#always measuring himself by his service to those he loves

[kg-clark-inthedark]

Chapter 11 of Beyond the Spheres by kg_clark on Ao3

Corvo Attano/The Outsider

Chapter preview below the cut…

I still remember my first fight like it was yesterday. It was within a year or two of my father’s death. A neighborhood kid was taunting my older sister Beatrici and, even though I was only five at the time, I already felt it was my responsibility to defend her. Void knows Father wasn’t around to do it anymore. And Mother was busy making ends meet.

We were both so young, me and that other boy. He was maybe seven at the oldest, yet I went after him with such brutality. What sweet satisfaction I got from the blood that gushed from his nose and the way he cried out for his parents. It felt good to hurt someone who deserved it, and it felt even better to have been of benefit to Beatrici. But what really hooked me on it all was what she said to me afterwards.

“My brave little Corvo. I’ll always be safe with you by my side, won’t I?”

That was it for me. From that point on, I defended her with everything I had during our rough upbringing. We were scrappy and inseparable in the mean streets of the Batista Mining District. It was with childish hope that she dreamed of seeking out a more adventurous life for herself away from Karnaca. And it was my own childish hope that let me think she would take me with her.

So much of my boyhood was defined by my relationship with her - my only true friend, the only person who I believed understood me. Then she simply disappeared. She boarded one of those ships we used to always watch together without a word to anyone. Not even to me…

I naively thought I’d always be able to protect Beatrici from danger. And, likely to humor her simple little brother, she let me believe I was needed for such a purpose. But it seemed I had been a burden to her the whole time. Just a little kid shadowing her around the city.

By the Void, I was so lost after she left. So I just kept doing the only thing I felt I was good at. I fought, and I put all of myself into it. I accomplished so much through just that one skill. My Blade Verbana victory, my time as a Grand Serkonan Guard soldier, my acknowledgement by the Duke himself. But it didn’t quite feel the same doing all those things for myself. After all, I was just Corvo Attano.

But then came Jessamine. I fell so easily into the role of Royal Protector, it was as if I’d been made for the position. After all, I’d already spent most of my childhood trailing after someone with bigger dreams than myself and scaring off anyone who dared threaten her. Protecting Jessamine gave me purpose again.

Then of course there was Emily. Our beautiful daughter, perfect in every way. The first time I held her, slumbering sweetly mere hours after her birth, I told myself that I’d finally done it. I’d brought into my life people I loved who wanted and valued my protection. I was needed. Life was as perfect as it could get for someone like me. I wouldn’t be cast aside, not as long as I remained of use to them…

But somewhere along the way I started falling short. I failed to protect Jessamine. It took me months to retrieve Emily after that. And all those years later I once again let my daughter fall victim to those who wished to harm her for their personal gain.

The one thing I thought myself good at, the one thing that I was able to offer to my loved ones, I failed at. Time and time again I let them down. Perhaps I’ve never been any good at protecting people in the first place. Beatrici must have seen the writing on the wall and left before I had the chance to disappoint.

So truth be told, I’ve been suspecting most of my life that I may be good for nothing. But what finally solidifies it for me is this current moment I find myself in. I’m lying in a growing pool of my own blood and looking up to see my only remaining family directing her blade at the man I love.

It’s clear that I've failed once again.

Continue reading on Archive of Our Own…

[torialefay]

"you've never had someone be this good to you before?"

perv!changbin x fem!reader

✨ synopsis: changbin couldn't help but to offer his services when he found out that the object of his obsessive thoughts had never been properly taken care of.

✨ word count: ~3.2k

✨ warnings: perv changbin, orgasm control, oral (fem receiving); minors DNI 🔞

✨ note: you can pop over to my masterlist & scroll toward the bottom to find the smut request info & prompts. i would love to receive some prompts that aren't strictly fem!reader (but ofc those are welcome too) <3

• you'd been friends for well over a year, yes. so how could you not have known that this entire time, changbin had been watching you?

• it had started as innocent, really. simply watching the way you walked and how your hips moved side to side with each step. he watched the way your shorts would ride up your thighs every time you sat down. he noticed the way your eyes got so big for him each time you raised your head to look up.

• and slowly, it started to drive him crazy.

• in his head, it was only natural- inevitable really. there was no harm in giving you a little bit of extra attention. nothing wrong with that.

• but before he knew it, he was going to lengths he'd never dreamed.

• friendly banter turned into more extreme measures, like him pulling you into his lap. "playfully" of course, and *not* because of the rush he got knowing that your pussy had just been resting so close to him... only thin fabric separating the two of you.

• although he would never admit it to anyone, he'd secretly taken photos of you. any time you were sitting in your chair, legs wrapped behind the chair legs, which made your ass stick out perfectly in his view. any time your top was low-cut enough to make out the lines between your breasts. any time you were innocently sucking up your drink, licking your lollipop, or licking your lips. he always had his camera at the ready, meticulous in making sure the flash had been turned off. he'd never blow his cover so carelessly.

• he'd "accidentally" drop things next to you just so he could bend down close to you and savor the sight as he came back up. your legs... they looked so soft. he wondered if a day would ever come that you would let him touch them... willingly.

• he'd even go as far as to say something spilled in the seat you were about to go to, so he could lay his jacket down for you to sit on and collect your scent for later.

• when he could finally be alone at the end of the day, he'd make sure he had all of his prized possessions out before he got to work on himself. the photos of you pulled up on his phone. his jacket held up to his face so he could take it in as he began to furiously pump his cock. and before he knew it, he was busting everywhere- his body overwhelmed, begging, and wholly giving in to the thought of you.

• but he didn't think that he'd ever be able to *actually* act on his urges... that is, until you'd messaged him one night that you needed help with something. moving some furniture or something like that- he didn't take the time to read much of the text past "hey, is there any chance you'd be able to come over-." that's all he needed to spring up and out the door.

• after taking care of what you needed, he'd hung around on the couch for a chat. he listened to all of your stories. he admired the amount of information that you entrusted to him. and for you, all of this felt like de-stressing in the most natural way.

• after talking vulnerably about past relationships (at this point, you weren't even aware how you'd gotten to this level of comfort), changbin had managed to squeeze out of you a more intimate conversation- one in which you told him you'd never actually been properly eaten out before.

• his brain couldn't comprehend it. someone as... perfect as you? with those few words, he lost it. all inhibition had left his body now that he'd gotten you to this point.

• "i could, ya know? if you want to of course," he said, his heart leaping inside his chest. he was high off of the adrenaline.

• "what?" you almost laughed in both embarrassment and disbelief. changbin was your friend, nothing more. why would he even joke about something like that?... well, unless he wasn't.

• "i said i could eat you out. show you it can feel good... if you want." his voice remain firm and steady.

• "where is this coming from?" you asked, your mind full of confusion.

• "nowhere, i-" he cleared his throat, now the wobbliness beginning to catch up with him. "nowhere. i just never would have thought that you hadn't, uhh.. had that before. i'm sorry if i made you feel weird," he mumbled in a rush, beginning to stand up.

• "no changbin, it's okay!" you held your hand out, motioning for him to stay. "i just... wasn't expecting that i guess? you've been such a good friend to me, i never thought..." your train of thought ran off. "i mean i'm just surprised is all. i don't want this to come between us. a spur-of-the-moment thing," you voiced nervously. you still weren't sure of the situation, so why were you saying this?

• "spur of the moment?" he chuckled, shaking his head with a smile. "you don't know how badly i've wanted you? you've had no clue this whole time?"

• "no..." your voice went shaky. "you never said anything." you looked down, not sure what to do.

• "what should i have said? that i've thought about fucking you every day for months on end? that i've spent my days doing everything i can to get closer to you... to want you so badly to the point that i cannot physically stand it? and to get anything possible from you because it turns me on? is that what i should have said?"

• you were taken aback. "get anything possible? what do you mean?"

• "nothing," he huffed defensively. you could tell that he was trying to calm himself down. you didn't think he meant to scare you. "just drop it. please. i shouldn't have said anything in the first place... but now here we are."

• "but..." you started, taking a moment to collect the words in your head. "but what if i do want it?" you looked up at him with nervous but hopeful eyes.

• changbin could feel his pulse begin to heighten. "say the word then, and i'll show you." he tried his best to contain the smile that so badly wanted to spread across his face.

• turns out, you didn't need to say anything. you put on a shy grin as you nodded your head, signaling your readiness. within a second, changbin was springing up, eager to finally turn his fantasies into reality.

• "okay, we can go slow if you want?" he half-smirked, looking down at you now. he'd never seen a more perfect sight.

• "yeah, i think that'd be good," you said, still a bit shy. you weren't quite sure where to go from here, so you gladly let him take the lead.

• "turn this way for me," he instructed, holding his hand out for you to grab onto. you took it, and he pulled slightly towards himself, helping you to rotate so that your body was now turned toward the front of the couch.

• changbin followed up with a satisfied smile at how well you were listening to him. just like his fantasies.

• "can i?" he asked, running his hand down gently to rest at the waist band of your shorts.

• you nodded, nibbling at your lips in anticipation.

• gently, changbin lowered himself to begin removing your shorts. slowly but with smooth hands, he removed your legs, one by one. he was careful with watching you- he'd studied your face far too well to miss out on any changing expressions he could coax out.

• throwing your shorts to the side, he sank to his knees so that he was now almost eye level with your pussy. suddenly, you felt exposed. intimidated. suddenly not quite sure how you'd gotten here.

• you closed your thighs together tightly, the red embarrassment evident on your face.

• "here, don't be shy," changbin said, sensing your hesitancy. he softly placed each hand on the inside of either thigh, applying slight pressure to move them apart. although you were fighting through the nerves, his gentleness washed over you with a much needed calming sensation.

• you let out a deep breath, not sure how long you'd been holding it in. you wiggled yourself a bit, trying to adjust to the newness of the situation as you settled into your position.

• changbin smiled up at you in return, his eyes endearing yet full of excitement. a sense of fulfillment had his brain clouded over.

• he wasted no time in running one hand up until it found the heat of your clothed core. you could tell that his hand was slightly shaking in his bout of disbelief, no matter how hard he was trying to cover it up.

• you shuddered a bit at the feeling of his thumb lightly grazing you, making momentary contact with your clit. it sent a bolt down your spine from a feeling that you'd been missing for far too long.

• changbin started slowly, rubbing up and down, then left and right, then in small, dredgingly slow circles trying to figure out what you liked.

• and if you were being honest, at this point, even you didn't know what you liked. no one had ever touched you like this before- so softly, so tenderly. every movement felt like it was the best sensation you'd ever experienced.

• changbin tried unsuccessfully to jerk his smile down while looking at the sight of you beginning to grind your hips down onto his fingers. you were silently begging him for even more contact. seeing you like this... it was better than he could have ever imagined.

• "let's take these off?" changbin whispered, pulling slightly at the hem of your underwear.

• you nodded, your mind coming out of its haze. you tilted your head just enough to watch as changbin slid them down with ease. almost as if he'd trained to do this all so perfectly... for you.

• the look on his face when he finally came in contact with your core, now entirely unclothed, was something you would never forget. his jaw dropped a bit, as if he couldn't believe what was in front of him. but following, barely a moment after, was a face full of determination. determination for what?... well you hoped you knew the answer.

• changbin again decided to rest his hands on the insides of your thighs so that he could spread you open as wide as possible. he wanted to see all of you. have access to every last inch. he was going to do this right.

• "you have to tell me what feels good, okay?" he cooed, looking up from in between your legs.

• you gave a bashful nod in response, signaling that you understood.

• carefully, changbin brought his fingers back to you, letting you get used to the feeling of his contact without moving. once he could tell that your tension was gone, he slowly started to rub up and down, one inch at a time. the fact that you were so wet for him almost made a gasp fall from his mouth. but it didn't. he wouldn't let it. he was going to have to fight the urge for now, not wanting you to feel overwhelmed by him so quickly. he wanted to savor every second he'd get with you.

• almost painfully slow, he continued to let his fingers slide along, getting you more and more worked up with each movement.

• it wasn't until he was completely sure that you were ready when he moved to land over your clit, which had been throbbing by this point. he remained calm, drawing gentle and slow circles around you to gage your reaction. as you strain out an inhaled breath, he knew he was right where he needed to be.

• he brought his face down to your core, mentally preparing to hold himself back. he didn't know how you'd respond, but he knew this was his only chance. he placed a few soft kisses on your inner thigh, acclimating you to his mouth. the kisses grew lighter and lower as he picked your leg up, kissing down to your knees as he went. he settled with resting your leg over his shoulder, granting him better access to you.

• just like the first time, he positioned his face at the opposite thigh, taking his time with soft pecks and temptingly letting his teeth graze your skin. he calmly lifted your leg to position it in parallel to the other, effectively caging himself in.

• you took a deep breath as you felt his tongue on your core, licking its way up. he didn't take much time before finding your clit and proceeding to roll his tongue up and down, trying to gage your reaction.

• as you gradually let yourself relax, you leaned into the feeling that he was providing you. you focused solely on his movements and how each of them made you tingle in a different way.

• you almost lost your breath entirely as he began sucking in, making the wildest noises and moaning on the spot once he heard you let out a tiny whine yourself. the tingles that were being sent into your thighs was proof enough that you'd never experienced something that felt like... well, this before.

• your heart skipped a beat each time he nipped at you in your most sensitive spot. slowly, you were burning for him. you wanted to scream out- to beg to him to do it again. over and over. but at the same time, you didn't know how you'd be able to bear it.

• but changbin knew you well. a small smirk crept across his face as he realized what he'd done to you. it only made him want to work harder to please you. to make you understand exactly what he's been working for for all of these months.

• "mmm, feels good?" he hummed into you, sending shock waves that only added to the feeling.

• "ye- yes," you strained out, trying to hold back.

• "you like it when i eat you out, huh?" he pulled off just long enough to give you a short smirk. something about his tone almost caused you to convulse on the spot. you were fighting back the urge to throw your knees together entirely.

• "yes," you whined now, grinding down onto his tongue as you went. you wanted so badly to let go.

• "mmm, are you gonna cum for me?" his voice rang out, darker now.

• you reflexively bucked your hips. this was exactly what you needed to spiral. you felt your toes begin to tingle, preparing to lose yourself.

• "yes, -fuck!" you arched a bit, feeling a particularly sharp jolt. "fuck, i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum-"

• "no you're not," he stated, fixated on your pussy with his lips still attached. "need you to keep going. cum when i tell you to."

• your eyes shot open. no? what did he mean no? you knew you weren't going to be able to hold it back. this was a side of changbin you'd never seen before.

• as the sensation built, a tear started to build up in the corner of your eye. this was too good. too too good. your legs were beginning to shake already. this was getting to be too much.

• as changbin's eyes came up to connect with yours, you were sure you were gone. you quickly threw one hand down to his hair, pushing his face further into you, while the other hand gripped tightly to the blanket next to you. you watched the tiny smirk in his gaze as you threw yourself down onto him.

• "please, please," you moaned, louder than you'd intended. "please, i'm gonna cum. i have- have to."

• "mmm? you've never had someone be this good to you before?" was all that he responded with, sending the vibrations along with it.

• "please," you cried. "please, i-- OH FUCK," you yelled one last time.

• the joints in your hand began to ache, giving in to the pressure put on it from bunching into the cushions around you.

• this was it. whatever he said, you weren't going to be able to hold it off any more. this was all you could take.

• noticing your shift, changbin smiled. "you can cum now, princess." his tongue returned once more to your clit, holding his lips taut to you. "cum on me right now," he ordered.

• finally, you were able to relish in the quick bolts that were shooting up from the bottoms of your feet and into your core.

• you couldn't stop yourself from yelling out, sending changbin into doing the same

• moans sang out in choirs, each hitting its note precisely as instructed. your hips moved accordingly, trying to ride out your full high, but trembling in the process.

• this was bliss. pure and utter euphoria like you'd never experienced before. in a jolt of a moment, your neck shivered, feeling a tingle working it's way up your spine. and before you knew it, your brain caught up to the feeling, blanking out and turning to static.

• your body reflexively arched, losing control of itself entirely. it was now a slave to the feeling that changbin was giving you. your body reacted to him like he was the only man in the world. and maybe now, to you, he was.

• fighting to finally throw yourself off of him, you wanted to cry. you never knew it could feel this good- so all consuming, so deep. to feel totally and completely taken care of.

• it was then, in your shaking, quivering state that you realized that a few tears had actually been spilled out. you took deep breaths, wiping your eyes as quickly as you could.

• as your mind slowly started to return, you couldn't believe what you'd just experienced. your body was spent. your brain was spent. you didn't know what you could possibly say or do at this point. it's as if you weren't even in the world.

• changbin snaked himself up slowly, wrapping his arms around yours in an attempt to sooth you. "was it okay?" he asked, the tiniest bit of pride in his voice.

• you couldn't help but to laugh in response. "yeah," you blinked as you sniffled. "yeah, i think it was okay."

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✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

✨ i promise y'all, one day i will figure out which formatting i like the best & then i will stick to it. i have problems 😭

[cower-before-power]

Holy, Holy, Lover Divine

Pairing: Gale x Fem Reader

Summary: You've never felt worthy of praise, until it's Gale kneeling at your feet.

Warnings: Implied sexual content, religious imagery, Gale may get a bit blasphemous ha

Word Count: approx 1300

A/N: Just another little Gale ficlet because I love him so much and this idea has been in my head for ages. Thanks for reading!

In this moment, you feel divine.

The term has followed you around, exaltations such as “saviour”, or “goddess” leaving the lips of those you’d saved. But it had never felt right, never felt like such praise should be heaped upon a mere mortal. Right place, right time, is what you always assumed should be your words. A simple soul who simply had the means to do what needed to be done. Hardly god-like, hardly worthy of the celestial.

But here, in the privacy of your bedchamber, under the gaze of your beloved, you finally understand that you are holy.

“You are beautiful,” Gale breathes, dark eyes roving over your face, your body, “I swear, there is no more magnificent creature on this plane or any other.” You feel your skin heat beneath your new nightgown, a flimsy scrap of gossamer lace you’d chosen with him in mind. It seems to be well appreciated.

“Don’t let the gods hear such blasphemy,” you murmur, wanting to both further expose yourself to him as well as shyly hide away, “a few of them might disagree.”

Gale shrugs, and you watch the motion of his broad shoulders greedily. “Let them hear me. I no longer care what she….what any of them think of me, of who and what I devote myself to. That right was lost long ago.”

Your eyebrows raise, but you are not surprised. Magic may still be bound to a goddess, but your lover has long stopped bending a knee. Prayers are offered not out of love, but duty, necessity. He gives thanks for the Weave, for spells and knowledge. But he hungers for her treasures no more.

She has long lost his piety, and you do not complain.

“Oh?”, you say coyly, shifting so your gown slides further up your thighs. You do not miss Gale’s eyes following the movement intently, and your skin burns with want. “And what are you devoted to now, Gale of Waterdeep? Where does your worship lie?”

Gale strides towards you, slow and measured, like a cat waiting to pounce. You know what he will say, but you want to hear it all the same. You want to bathe in it, this new feeling of righteousness, of being the idol of such great love and passion. This man makes you feel as if you have wings on your back and a halo over your head.

You vow you will not squander it.

“I am in service of a new goddess now,” he says, and mirth twinkles in his lust-glazed eyes. Your lips quirk upward-your wizard of words is about display his prowess.

“This,” he gestures to the room you share, to the bed you’ve come together in more times than you can count, “this is my temple. The sacred place I give my humble sacrifices, make my loving prayers, pledge my undying service.”

He’s close enough to touch now, bare chest within reach of your gluttonous fingers. Before you can grasp what you crave, his catches your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press small kisses to your fingertips.

“These are my offerings,” he guides your hand to touch his temple, down to his chest, and further, further, until your finger brush over his desire. You whimper eagerly. “My mind, my heart and my body, all given freely and eagerly to please the one who has saved me time and time again from my own folly.”

He drops your hand and nudges your legs apart, sinking to his knees as he slots himself between them. You think you might combust with how hot the flame of passion is burning within you. Gale never fails to set you on fire from the inside out, but it seems tonight he aims to upstage himself.

“This is my altar,” his voice grows more sinful, his eyes even darker, “the place I will kneel in reverence eternal. Day after day, night after night, I will worship here, a thrall in my Lady’s service. For as long as she will have me.”

He leans forward, lips pressing against your inner thigh. You mewl softly, threading your fingers through his silky hair. Encouraged by your ragged breaths, he roams the giving flesh freely, littering your thighs with warm, bruising kisses.

“These are my hymns, my canticles of homage. I will bestow them upon every inch of this heavenly flesh. As many and as often as my Lady allows."

A gentle, teasing kiss is placed over your smallcothes. You gasp and tug him closer, a spark of white hot pleasure shooting up your spine.

“Gale,” you beg, thinking you may just go mad from his teasing, his honeyed words. “Gale, please-“

But instead of continuing, Gale pulls back and surges upwards, capturing your mouth in a heady kiss. You delightedly take what you are given, groaning as his taste explodes on your tongue. You will never get enough of kissing him, you decide. Gale always kisses you like he’s trying to crawl inside of you. Like he's trying to merge not only your bodies, but your very souls as well.

It never fails to set you on fire.

“This is my baptism,” he pants as he breaks your kiss, fingers flexing on your thighs, barely concealed restraint pulled taught like a bowstring. “I am cleansed of my sins, my foolish ideals, my bitter and lonely existence. To feel my Lady's love and desire in every kiss, every touch, every time I am inside of her- it is to be born anew."

Gale does not stay parted from you for long; his lips soon find their way to your neck, his fingers brushing your sensitive skin reverently.

And you are drowning. You whine and whimper and mumble intelligible pleas as your lover ravishes you with lovebites and praises. You fingers tangle in his hair and you pull-the groan that rumbles from his throat nearly makes your eyes kiss the back of your skull.

“Let me worship you,” Gale moans into your skin, pushing the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders. His mouth ghosts over the tops of your breasts. Gooseflesh rises in it wake. "Let me show you my supplication."

"As if you aren't already," you giggle breathlessly, falling back on the bed as Gale crawls over you. You welcome the heat of his body as it hovers above yours, close but not nearly close enough.

"Oh, you know I can do so much more," he grins wolfishly, eager hands helping you to slip off your nightgown. When you are spread nude before him, he slides out of his own trousers, laughing as your eager hands grope at every inch of bare skin they can reach.

"Shall I love you now, my Lady?" he asks, settling between your legs. A gentle hand cups your cheek, and you melt into the tender touch. "It is all I desire."

You brush a stray lock of hair away from his beautiful brown eyes. Happiness bleeds through the air around you, encasing the two of you in a world all your own. A sanctum most sacred and blessed.

"Love me then,” you sigh dreamily, “love me, and know how much I love you in return, you darling, wonderful, worthy man.”

And oh, how you are adored! How your lover makes your body and soul sing, more radiant and joyous than a choir of angels. How he plays your desire over and over, bliss unending, until you are left boneless and spent, a puddle of happiness in his arms.

And as you lay cradled carefully against Gale, enveloped in his ardor, you feel as if you are weightless. There is no more stain upon your soul, no mortal tarnish on your skin. No fear, no insecurity, no wondering. You are eternal. You are blessed.

You are divine.

[temmtamm]

couldddd you POSSIBLY!.!!.!!! do a gravity falls yandere platonic ford which any age with a son!reader? Maybe around the age of 14 or younger. IF NOT THATS COMPLETELY FINE!

or if not that maybe a platonic yandere teen ford and stan with a younger brother?

Hii pookie!!

Friendly reminder once again, I do not do gender specific asks/headcanons!! Check my Gravity Falls ‘Asks Open’ post if anyone has any confusion on what I will/wont do!

As for a parental Ford…let’s see..

Well, at least in my opinion, Ford probably wouldn’t take that care of a child. He can barely take care of himself, let alone a kid.

But, if we are talking after the portal and everything, then I think that might be different.

Once again, Ford doesn’t have much of any parental bones in his body, but he does display more care and affection for the twins than I think he would’ve before the portal. I feel like he had matured and grown a lot through all the dimensions he had been in, and was able to recognize how poorly he was raised.

So, let’s say your home life wasn’t as great either, whether it be something as simple as your father being emotionally constipated, or your family just fights more than ‘normal’ ones, Ford WILL draw parallels to your home and his.

And Ford, after all he has learned, doesn’t want another person to wind up like him; craving validation and praise from others, to the point where he—I mean, you, seek it out from dangerous sources.

So…Ford starts hanging around you more.

He’s very…subtle with it. He knows kids, especially teenagers don’t care for adults getting all up in their business, so he tried to take it slow.

He didn’t expect how closed off you were, however. Your walls were completely up…So, he had to take some extra measures to get some details out of you.

Y’know the fun fact about all the weirdness in Grvaity Falls?? It means that there’s a lot of bugs that can repeat what it hears—So, it wasn’t that hard to sneak one of these copyroaches into your home and listen in on it repeating all that was heard in the home.

All the nasty fights, all the lonesome crying, all the times you’d gush to yourself or your friends on call about your special interests.

Don’t worry, he’s a good dad, he’ll let you keep SOME privacy…Just, a very, very, VERRYY small portion of it.

Slowly, you two start to bond more and more with him becoming more of a father figure to you with how he seems to always know what’s troubling you and the answers you need to hear in that moment…Not to mention, with him not being great with emotions, he tried to win your love with acts of service, such as making you dinner, saving the shoes you like on his DVR, and letting you spend the night at the shack when your parents fight.

Soon, he started to notice you staying at the shack more and more.

And more and more…He couldn’t help but grow discontent with the way your family treats you.

As said before, it doesn’t matter how small the issue is, if Ford had it his way, not a foul word should be spoken in your vicinity. Haven’t they already done enough damage to this child?? Do they want you to grow up in a broken home?!

In fact…He doesn’t think they’re fit to be parents. Not even in the slightest!!

He would be so much better…He’d actually take care of you, and he is smarter than any school they have been putting you in for that matter—All those kids are just so cruel to you, even if you don’t know it yet.

That…actually gives him an idea.

“So…anything happen at school today, champ?” Ford mumbled in his usual low, raspy voice as he scrubbed at the dishes in the sink, his apron still tied around his waist from cooking.

“Uh…Ford?” He didn’t even bat an eye or look up at you as you started to feel queasy, pushing the bowl of soup away from you at the dinner table. “I think the vegetables in this went bad…I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Ford just let out a good, hearty laugh. “Don’t be silly, I made it with all fresh ingredients. Have a look for yourself. Only the best for you.”

You could feel your stomach start to churn and growl, with the sight that greeted you when you looked down at your bowl not making you feel any better.

Was that an…eye?!

…

It’s the same shade as your mother’s.

“O-Oh god..” You bit down on your lip, bile starting to creep up in the back of your throat at the sight…and that’s when the melatonin had started to kick in, making your vision grow spotty. It was hard for Ford to find a dosage of that where it was not only over the required limit for a young teen, but also able to be hidden in food. He did it though. Better that than rat poison for his little baby.

“Aww, oh no? Are you having a stomach bug?? Don’t worry, I’ll make it all better.”

That’s the sick part. He genuinely believes it’s better locked in the shack for you. Why wouldn’t it be?? He’ll spoil you with all the care and love a child deserves, not to mention he will be sure to intellectually stimulate your brain as well.

You’ll see. He’ll be the perfect father for you.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Nikto’s commandments

Content: Sexual Desire, Dissociation, Depersonalization, Codependency, Acts of Service, Masturbation

You moan his name sometimes in your sleep.

Usually just before you wake up, panting and overheated, shooting wide-eyed glances his way. Lying to you would be a sin beyond redemption so he always lets you know that he’s awake. You often apologize, sometimes you assure him you’re alright. It takes him a while to identify the look in your eyes those nights — he was unfamiliar with it even before: guilt.

You feel guilty.

Puzzling out the why of that takes longer still. You’re a mystery to him, ineffable. The way god is supposed to be. Unlike the Christian one, you almost always have a purpose behind what you do, and you’ll answer Nikto whenever he dares to ask. (He’s not going to ask about this.)

He first thought that you were calling for his help in dreamt pain. That your blown out pupils, trembling hands, and flushed face were products of fear and imagined torture.

But then you started to lean into his neck in your sleep, making soft, high noises. Would press your ass into the cradle of his hips, grind against his thigh. Alien as his body is to him now, he can recognize emotion in others. Lust, desire.

Coming to terms that you feel these things for him has been another challenge altogether. (But you are a loving god, a compassionate keeper. The sweetness and mercy and nobility found in the viscera of his world. If there is anything of him worth wanting, you would find it.) If you are attracted to this… vessel he inhabits, who is he to question you?

The guilt, though. That he is still puzzling out.

If anyone should feel guilt, it is him (though he doesn’t, isn’t even sure if he can). Now that you’ve made him more aware of his body, of his desires, there’s a constant buzz of arousal in his blood. For you. He craves you constantly. Your touch, your voice, your scent in his nose. He could suffocate on you.

It’s selfish, it’s sinful. To desire anything of you when you have given him everything and asked for nothing in return. Not even his loyalty, freely given. It is why he could not say yes when you offered to slake his desire; it would have been akin to blasphemy.

Unless.

Unless you have asked something of him.

“Whoa!” A giggle as you tilt your head back to him, amused and curious. “What was that for?”

He feels wooden as he glances down at you. His arm is around your waist, nearly crushing you to him. Hadn’t even realized he moved. You don’t seem to mind, palms light on his forearm. Still looking to him.

He does not answer. Can’t find the words past the panic clawing at his throat. Lets you go slowly, finger by finger. You don’t step away once free.

You say something else. Something about rain maybe? He’s too busy staring at the deft hands you cup around your mouth.

How soft and gentle they are on his skin, skipping over the worst scars. The first thing you always do is touch him. When he’s out of a shower, just changed, climbing into bed, waking up. You reach for him, as if you can’t bear to be parted with the same intensity he feels.

Do you crave to touch him in other ways? Has he denied you, unwitting as it may have been?

It would be one thing to ask anything of you, especially for his own sake. But to give you something… even if it’s such an unworthy offering as himself…

“Nikto?”

His eyes flick down to yours. You smile at him, point at your own temple.

“Busy up there today, huh?” It’s not even a tease, but he feels as if he’s made another misstep.

“Sorry.”

You shake your head, bump your shoulder into his arm. “I’m just checking that you’re alright.”

“Alright” being relative. He objectively understands that he is broken and damaged. That he does not operate at full capacity all — or even most — of the time.

But with your help he’s established a baseline, a “normal.” Something to measure his body, and more importantly his damaged mind by.

“I am… alright,” he decides finally. “Just thinking.”

“Okay,” you answer, easy as that. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen — but you don’t have to.”

You don’t have to is your favorite thing to say to him. He would laugh if he remembered how.

He grunts an affirmative and follows you to wherever you’re headed next.

—

That night, your ankle is hurting. Nothing serious, you assure Nikto. Just rolled it a bit. You promise it just needs rest, low level painkillers, and a bit of elevation.

Nikto is unpracticed at care. For all he practically lives in your pocket, medical care is unusual for you. He spends so much time keeping you safe, protected, alive and unharmed. He has little direction when it comes to your discomfort.

Luckily, you provide direction in spades.

“Two pills from the bottle with the red cap and a glass of water please.”

His cock twitches hard. Fills out almost dizzyingly fast in the confines of his tac pants.

He fetches both for you, holding each in turn as you pluck the pills from his hand and sip the water. You sigh gratefully and tell him to set the glass on the nightstand. Another bolt of pleasure to obey, while you like droplets from your bottom lip.

“Can you grab my computer and the charger? I want to watch something before bed.”

He brings them, stands waiting while you fiddle with it. Waiting for another request. He’s achingly hard now. Throbbing in his underwear.

“Oh! Hairbrush too, please?”

When he hands it to you this time, hand almost to the point of shaking, you give him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, I keep making you run around.”

“Don’t be.” His voice is gruff, but it so often is that you don’t seem to find anything amiss. “More?”

“Ah… well, if it’s not too much trouble, could you grab the extra blanket? It’s cold tonight.”

He tries to pace himself. To balance the pleasure of obeying against the speed of completing the task. You hum in delight as he drapes it over you — a fluffy monstrosity of a thing. Utterly decadent, he’d never even entertain the idea of having one. But you deserve a dozen of them if you wanted them. He’d retrieve them now for you if only you asked.

(He wishes you would ask.)

He is harder than he ever remembers being. (Granted, there are many gaps in his memory, even now. But there is enough there to know this is true.)

“Okay that should be the last thing for a bit.” You’re looking away and don’t see the minute deflation of his shoulders. He’s nearly panting. “Come snuggle in?”

“In a moment,” he says, surprising himself. You seem a bit (pleasantly) surprised too. He’s never denied you anything for even a moment. But if he sits next to you now…

“Ah, gotcha,” you say when he turns for the bathroom.

You start playing whatever tv show you have queued up to offer him privacy. He closes the door after himself and for the first time since regaining his freedom, takes himself in hand.

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Masterlist

[cjrae]

Stunted Love. Or: The Theme of MaoMao's little finger.

Maomao's little finger is a recurring motif in the Apothecary Diaries, and it receives even more emphasis in the anime's first season - it represents her belief that romantic love leads to pain and destruction. Spoilers primarily for the anime, but also the epilogue of light novel four and Chapter 15 of light novel six below.

Love In A Cage

The motif is first introduced in "The Unsettling Matter of the Spirit" - Concubine Fuyou's story. Maomao has already noted the parallels between the red light district and the Inner Palace, but here we see what happens when romantic love is introduced into the mix. On paper, Concubine Fuyou is a literal object of pity. Her personhood is being gifted to an officer who recently distinguished himself on the front lines, discarded after having failed to please the Emperor. It's telling that this is one of the first times we see Jinshi interacting with a consort where he is completely serious, without bringing his charm to bear. We never hear him say anything, but it's clear that he's communicating the Emperor's order with respect and understanding the gravity of the consequences for Fuyou.

As the events of the episode unfold, the parallels between courtesans and consorts get stronger as Maomao introduces the concept of having a contract bought out - if a man wants a courtesan enough, she is also an object to be purchased, albeit at potentially astronomical price. At first glance, it would seem like these women have absolutely no power in these scenarios - but by the end of the episode, Maomao shows us the feminine side of this transaction - how a woman can manipulate the system she is trapped by in order to get what she wants. All she has to do is lower her value - a rather counterintuitive measure that can go horribly wrong all too easily, as we see later.

And what Concubine Fuyou wants is to escape the Inner Palace to be with the man she loves - a task that she succeeds at. She has played a long, patient game in the service of freedom. Trapped in the cage of the Inner Palace herself, Maomao holds her scarred finger against the freedom of the sky and wonders what kind of medicine love would make.

Devotion

We see further flashbacks to Maomao's past through multiple episodes, but the next time the concept of love is brought up is when Fengming is confessing her role in the death of Consort Ah-Duo's baby in "Honey" (episode 11). Maomao is brought up short by Fengming's confession - she flat out says to the audience that she's never loved anyone with that depth of devotion Fengming displays toward Ah-Duo, so she doesn't know how Fengming feels. But if she doesn't have empathy to offer, she does have a rough kindness. Another person might have said that Ah-Duo deserved to know why her son died, that the knowledge might have provided closure. Maomao, however, believes that knowing the baby's cause of death would only cause more pain (it's never the crime and always about the cover-up) without providing any actual benefit.

With these two episodes framing her early character development we see that, whatever Maomao's natural inclinations are (and I will leave discussion of neuro divergency to those better qualified to discuss it), there is a certain distance between Maomao and her emotions most of the time. It is implied that this distancing from her emotions is a trauma response as the image of a woman holding a knife above her head while kneeling on a bed is shown but not explained (it is the only recurring image during the montage before the discussion about her potential execution with Jinshi).

Lakan and Fengxian

In "Lakan" (episode 18) the motif begins recurring more often as Maomao's parentage is revealed. We've caught glimpses of the sick woman in the annex before, but as the camera pans over the bed, it's clear that this is Maomao's mother (as always in anime, the hair is a dead giveaway). We've seen Maomao in this room, always curled in a fetal position, staring with blank eyes, but here we see Maomao actually caring for a woman who she describes as driving her out over and over again. The camera's focus is on Maomao's eyes as she watches her mother continuing to deteriorate - they're blank yet again, echoing her earlier line of "This is stupid. She's gone."

This is not the look of a girl who genuinely doesn't care about her mother. The image of her mother with the knife upraised is straight out of recurring nightmares that wake her gasping with terror and continue to haunt her after she's returned to work. While there is no AFFECTION involved, there are certainly very strong emotions here. Later, in the bath with Meimei, Maomao wonders if Meimei's in love - and immediately shies away from the thought, insisting that "love is an emotion I'm sure I left behind in the womb."

Interestingly, this is immediately belied as the Three Princesses (the women who took on the maternal role that her mother discarded) begin to pamper Maomao in the bath, and she relaxes into their touch, flushed with belonging and pleasure at their attention.

Confrontation

In "Blue Roses," (episode 22), everything has built to a head. By hiding Maomao back into the Rear Palace, Jinshi is acting as her shield - and Lakan responds with a power play. Both he and Jinshi are aware that Lakan knows his true identity, so Lakan provokes Jinshi with a political test. "Nothing is impossible" for a man with Jinshi's power - so providing some blue roses at a garden party in early spring should be simple, right? It's a near impossible task and Lakan knows it - even if Jinshi were to figure out how to dye the roses to be the appropriate color, they're still out of season.

Up until now, Maomao's response to Lakan has been to hide. But, with Jinshi's reputation on the line and seeing how worn out he is, Maomao has finally had enough. So she takes Lakan's challenge on and, while she's in the process of growing the hothouse roses so that Jinshi can best Lakan, she diverts unwanted attention from the Crystal Palace's handmaidens by showing Xiaolan how to do a manicure - something that draws attention to the deformed pinky on her hand and changes her perspective of the damage to the finger.

The art should be paid attention to here - we see close up shots of two other people's hands after having the manicure done - Xiaolan and Consort Lihua. In both of these shots, there's some subtle detail paid to their little fingers as well - Xiaolan's is ever so slightly crooked rather than perfectly straight, while Lihua flexes her fingers so that the pinky is extended as she looks at her hands. In the next shot, Maomao has done her nails as well - and when Jinshi draws attention to the fact that he's surprised she would do her nails (like Hongiang, Maomao usually prefers work over fashion), she looks at the finger and remarks that, even though her little finger is twisted and scarred, it looks better than it did before - an acknowledgement that the finger is not actually a hindrance, but a piece of her identity.

Healing

Giving Lakan the opportunity to finally do right by Fengxian is the most grace and forgiveness that Maomao can extend to either of her parents. Their romantic love is certainly sympathetic to an outsider, but Maomao was shaped by the consequences. Lakan's carelessness and Fengxian's willingness to break the rules of the pleasure district in order to deliberately lower her value so that she could be with the man she loved, is the guiding cautionary tale of her life.

But Maomao has also grown over the season. She is neither the terrified little girl, abandoned by mother and father alike (however unintentionally on Lakan's part) nor a teenager full of fear fueled rage at Lakan's persistence. She is Luomen's daughter and proud of that fact - she has found her family and a place in the world. It is with that more adult understanding of the world around her that she dances atop the wall of the Rear Palace, giving her parents the only thing she can, which is her blessing and best wishes for their short future, as she sends her mother off.

Sure enough, who is watching her as she takes a step toward a more mature identity but Jinshi? Other characters have provided a shield between Maomao and Lakan - Verdigris' madam, Meimei and even Luomen. But it is on Jinshi's behalf that Maomao decided to face Lakan herself. She loves her adoptive dad and granny and sisters with all the affection she never received from Fengxian, but Maomao's actions have always spoken much louder than her words - Jinshi protected her and she, in turn, chose to face her childhood bogeyman to help him.

Is it stating the obvious that Maomao tripping and Jinshi catching her is an obvious metaphor for falling in love?

As she dances on the wall, we see the two seemingly disparate sides of her identity coalesce into a whole. The moment she lets down her hair is a uniquely Japanese moment of eroticism (this is why maiko and geisha use the oshiroi that bare the nape of their necks), even as she's also deliberately reapplied her freckles.

The moment she realizes that Jinshi truly sees all of her in a uniquely emotional moment, she trips and is made terrifyingly vulnerable as she nearly goes over the edge - only to be caught safely in Jinshi's arms.

Safely back atop the wall, the little finger comes up one more time - except that this time, instead of looking at the damage inflicted and seeing the scar, Maomao looks at her pinky and shows it to Jinshi, telling him what sounds like a strangely gruesome medical fact. That a fingertip can regrow if cut off. For all the trauma that her biological parents caused her, for all that her pinky will be scarred for the rest of her life, the wound did heal. Maomao has healed - she is capable of friendship, loyalty and love that can inspire devotion - even if she rarely displays open affection.

Love Creates Fear

This motif comes back again, at the end of light novel 4 (what will be the end of Season 2, if the studio continues to stick to two light novels a season for pacing, which I expect they will). Jinshi has officially cast aside his cover as a eunuch and stepped into the political limelight as the Imperial Brother. Maomao, as a result of their adventures, has returned home, to her apothecary shop and, as she works she thinks about how everything has changed.

"Jinshi must have finally gone back to being whoever he really was. Maomao didn't know his real name: she couldn't have used it even if she did. The worlds they lived in were simply too different…Anyway, now that Jinshi was no longer a eunuch, he couldn't get away with keeping some lowborn girl around him…So it was for the best, really, that Maomao had come back to the apothecary's shop in the pleasure district."

As Maomao ruminates to herself about how she will never see Jinshi again, she retreats to what she knows best - medicine. She's got her emotions under lock and key and she's begun experimenting, working on creating a more potent painkiller. However, her pain tolerance is too high to work with her previous methods.

Or, to lay the metaphor bare, Maomao has dealt with abandonment before, but not like this. Her usual methods aren't working - so it's time to up the ante. What she does next is extremely telling.

"'Got to cut deeper if I want to be sure'. Maomao looked at her left hand, then tied some string firmly around her pinky. She stood and took a small knife from a cabinet. 'Here goes!'

Just as she was about to bring the knife down, a beautiful voice interrupted her: 'WHAT are you doing?'

Without a word, she turned to see a man in an unusual mask standing in the entryway of the shop…'Done with all your work?' Maomao asked, undoing the string around her finger and putting the knife back in the cabinet."

The thought that she and Jinshi are now living in such different worlds that they will never see each other again is painful enough that cutting her finger off in a thinly justified experiment is preferable to feeling her own emotions. What Maomao wants in this moment is a return to the emotional numbness of the past - only this time, she will do the damage herself.

But Jinshi is not Lakan and abandoning Maomao for any reason is simply not an option. Just as he caught her on the wall, Jinshi catches her again. A prince is standing in an apothecary shop on the edges of the red-light district, a place where he should not be - except for the fact that it's where Maomao is.

Connection and Communication

Finally, as a callback toward the end of light novel six, Jinshi and Maomao are beginning to reconnect after Jinshi screwed up and lost a lot of emotional ground in light novel five's epilogue, and he does the following.

"She reached out for the package, which Jinshi had put behind his back, but he planted a palm on her belly to keep her from sitting up and she couldn't reach it. She kicked her legs from sheer frustration and this time he grabbed her ankle. She was just trying to decide what he might be planning when he brushed the tip of his pinky finger along the back of her foot.

'Hrk?!' Maomao choked, squirming...The back of her foot, and her back as well, were hopelessly vulnerable to a gentle brush of the fingers.

'M-Master Jinshi...That's...not...fair!'"

While Jinshi is still the instigator in this scene, this is the the first instance of romantic and sexual contact that Maomao accepts, eventually bursting out laughing - and when he gets that laughter, Jinshi also immediately backs off, accepting that he has pushed her as far as she can go right now. But that first contact was via that tiny fingertip representing love.

His hard-learned patience is rewarded when Maomao is finally willing to speak to Jinshi about how she's feeling about his desire to marry her, first obliquely as they discuss the plot of a very familiar tragic romance, before she addresses the issue directly.

"Instead of answering, she murmured, 'I don't want to be an enemy.' Jinshi gave her a sidelong look as if to ask whose enemy she meant. 'To Empress Gyokuyou,' she said.

Would Jinshi understand what she was saying? If not, that was fine, Maomao thought. There were things even he didn't know.

'You - '

He seemed about to ask her something else when a horse whinnied outside..."

Maomao may be hesitant, she may feel very confused, but she finally gives Jinshi something to work with here - communicating to him not that she simply doesn't care about him that way, but that she has a very real, concrete fear about what a romantic relationship with him would mean, not only for them, but for everyone else around them.

That's a lot to balance on the tip of a pinky.

[remember-to-be-gentle]

Friend, I just screamed. SCREAMED.

How about this~ if I may request an Enji that happens to see a perfect little darling happening by and can't help himself...

...I'll happily write a request for you in exchange!

You'll get yours 😈 when I think of one

Subject: BNHA, Enji Todoroki aka Endeavor

Title: Future

Trigger Warning: Obsessive behavior, kidnapping, fantasizing, breeding (mentioned), Enji is a Karen confirmed

Enji fumed walking to his tailor. He had received a message from one of his sidekicks stating that his presence was "unnegotiable" at tonight's charity gala and worse, he needed a new suit within a handful of hours because he'd put on so much muscle mass that he'd burst out of his old one. It was turning out to be a rough and irritating day.

He shoved open the door to the shop, the little bell jingling to make his presence known--as if he needed it when his heavy footsteps.

A tiny figure popped up from behind the counter. "Just a minute! Mr. Ao is currently working with another client but I'll be more than happy to help when I put these swatches away."

Great, the apprentice. Well, it didn't matter to him as long as you sewed his suit correctly. He was paying good money for the best possible service, after all.

He didn't pay much attention when you lead him to a private fitting room. It wasn't until you closed the door that he remembered where he was. The private room was decently sized with a rack of premade jackets to the side, three mirrors that caught every angle in the room, a small table full of sewing equipment, and of course the dark wooded chair for Enji to sit in.

In this room alone with you, he finally processed who he was looking at. You. With your pretty little sewing apron and messy hair. Your tiny but nimble hands unwrapping the measuring tape. The way you politely commanded him to lift his arms as if you could possibly command him to do anything...

He wanted you. Bad.

Feeling your hard-working hands wrap around the meat of his muscles, giving a gentle squeeze to measure the give for the fabric. Your short arms struggling to wrap around his waist, pulling the measuring tape taught against the planes of his abs and dragging it up to the full curves of his sculpted pecs. He shivered when the tape scraped his nipples through his shirt.

"Are you cold?" You asked.

God, even your voice was cute.

"I don't get cold," Enji said. He was still grumpy, you being the cutest thing he'd ever seen hadn't changed that.

"Oh, okay." You picked up his old suit and examined it, comparing your new measurements with the old recorded in Ao's customer book. "Wow, you sure gained a lot of muscle Mr. Todoroki. Looks about a whole three inches of girth all around."

Why did you have to say girth? Now he was thinking about those little hands wrapped around the meat of his cock. Would those tiny hands of yours even be able to wrap around his balls? God, feeling you cup them would be amazing, desperately trying to wring his cum from them--

Now was not the time to be fantasizing, he reminded himself.

"Where's my tea?" Enji demanded, trying to get his mind off of you. "Mr. Ao always has tea prepared for his guests."

"Right! Sorry, sir." You skittered out of the room and returned with a paper cup of steaming green tea. When your hands brushed his for that split second of transference, Enji could have sworn he felt sparks.

When he married Rei it hadn't been for love. It had been about power when he spread her open and bred her. Enji knew of love and saw it everything and everyone but himself. But now... He felt it. This was love. Or at the very least, this was his breeding instincts begging for one last round in the ring.

Would you be a good girl for him, like Rei? Or would you fight him every step of the way? He could imagine you clawing at the wide expanse of his back, your tiny legs wrapped around his waist as he plowed into you hard enough to ensure you couldn't escape him the next day. You wouldn't want for anything under him, nothing but freedom--assuming you were coherent enough from his cock that you remembered you wanted it.

Shit, you were talking again. Oh you pretty little thing, didn't you know what you were doing to him? You had to know.

It took him everything to focus on what you were saying, "Since we don't have time to make a whole new suit, I thought maybe we could change the design to add more fabric in a fashionable capacity." You picked up a tablet and showed him a rough sketch of his jacket with red fabric inlaid in the seams to accommodate his size. Frankly he knew nothing about fashion so it looked good to him.

He just wanted you to touch him again.

"That's fine," he said. "As long as I have full use of my arms and legs. You wouldn't know anything about being a hero, but even the clothes we wear outside of work need to accommodate our movement as well as be quirk resistant."

"Of course, sir! Hero work is really intense. I can get started on your suit right away and have it delivered to your address with time to spare. Should I have Mr. Ao bill to the usual account?"

"Will you be the one delivering it?"

"Ah, no. We usually outsource deliveries, sir."

"Hm. I think it would be best if you did. That way you can come with me to the gala." What was he saying! "It would be... Uh, it would be a good way for you to show off your work, maybe make some connections. People from all walks of life will be there, I'm sure that this could be a good opportunity for you."

"I... I don't know what to say." You blushed, sweet and shy, confidence slipping in the face of opportunity. "I would love to."

"Excellent, my driver can take us there and back. Just dress nicely."

"Of course, sir, and thank you again. I'm going to get started on the modifications."

"Please do." Enji stood up, turning away from you quickly and coldy to walk out the door so you couldn't see the outline of his hardening cock in his pants.

He reminded himself to be patient.

Later that night when you arrived in your pretty, slim fitting dress and his bold but fashionable tux, Enji said, "You're a little early. Please come in. I'll make you some tea before I change."

"Oh, I don't want to bother you Mr. Todoroki!"

"It's no bother." He gestured for you to come inside and the moment your foot crossed the threshold of your new home, Enji firmly closed the door and locked it. "Now, why don't we talk about your future?"

[fanaticsnail]

Snail,,,,,

It's been a low swing so I haven't been interacting as much but know that I love you and you bring joy everytime you appear on my dash

I did get a creative burst recently so have some domestic / acts of love headcanons for *spins wheel* Dracula Mihawk!

Receiving:

- shaving his beard

- the greatest swordsman knows how to wield blades but let's you do it anyway

- he likes the intimacy and trust of allowing you to hold a blade so close to his throat

- he also thinks you're hot when you hold blades, something he has sculpted himself to be the master of

- some kind of almost submission where he gets aroused by being a master swordsman, having spent his whole life sculpting his body to wield blades with the utmost pinnacle of precision and power, and sitting beneath you as he lets you (less skilled) wield a blade against him. Especially as he watches you improve; steadier, more confident and precise as time passes. But he would dare admit an arousal he can't put a name to or explain

- he gets to stare at your concentrated face without being too weird/overt. (Usually it's "Mihawk what do you think of these earrings?" 👁️ 👁️)

Giving:

- buying you souvenirs from his travels

- he personally doesn't like knick knacks or novelties, but he likes to let you know he's thinking of you in every moment

- and it's a way to keep you in his thoughts, bringing you with him for his sake and yours on his trying journeys

- oh the cross guild meeting gave him a preemptive hangover? At least he gets to spend an hour picking something out for his darling

- even if you don't like touristy things, he takes notice of what it is you do like and gets you that (e.g, perfume, jewellery, foods)

- the act of knowing you is another one of his love languages

Reciprocated:

- pouring eachothers wine/drink

- it's literally the same amount of effort for him to pour yours and you to pour his as it would be to do it yourselves, perhaps even more

- but he just loves it

- it's the small act of service without the pressure of grandeur that he revels in. He would level ships if you asked. You would freeze hell over so he didn't sweat in his jacket when he went down there. But you both don't have to go to those lengths to appreciate each other and know/feel appreciated

- coordinating outfits

- he gets to show you off while still staking a claim

- ties into bringing you things he thinks you'll like, he gets to show off how well he knows his partner by getting them something tailor-made with the right measurements and style

OH MY GOSH ITS SNAIL!!! HI!!!

Oh, I missed you so, so much. I am glad you're back, my love.

That image of Mihawk's yellow eyes lovingly falling half-lidded as he submits to the handle of his lover's blade has me in a choke hold. I am obsessed with this. Beautiful analysis of shared love languages. You're amazing, and you always come through when I need you, Snail.

Literally today, my sister was bullying me into the final chapter of Sapsorrow and I needed a little shove more to get me there. I will be looking at this whimsically while I fixate on it 🖤.

Thank you for sharing your creative burst with me 🖤🖤

[villains-core]

An Understanding

pairing: Thrawn x f!reader word count: 1.1k words warnings: grief & loss, not beta'd summary: something has been weighing on your husband's mind the past few days and you try to seek out the route of this stress. even if it was not quite something you expected. a/n: this is my first fic, so if you have any tips. they are welcome :)

At first glance, you see him hunched over his desk reading his datapad. But upon greater inspection, you find that his shoulder muscles were tight against the white uniform. A sigh exits your lips as you beg to run your fingers across the crisp white material, hoping to relieve some of that pressure.

He had been distant the last few days, only slipping into bed in the later hours. His warmer form pressed up against your back as he nuzzled your head, seeking to smell your sweet feminine scent. He would let out a sigh and hold you tighter.

Unaware that he had woke you, you would lay there staring into the dark of your shared room, wondering what was bothering him so much. The possible cause had to be the ever-growing Rebellion sweeping across the galaxy, but something else seemed to trouble him apart from that. You beg to wake him up and ask but decide against it as his body is completely relaxed, and his breathing indicates he was finally asleep.

Though tonight you would take it upon yourself to ask him. Ask him what was troubling him so. Why was he burying himself in his work and not in your comfort like he always did?

You take a few steps away from the comfort of the threshold over to him, your pace measured. He was sure to hear you coming soon and would turn to greet you. But as you got closer, he did not turn and was still glued to the datapad. Your stomach grew in knots and anxiety rose in your chest.

Your hand reached out to touch his shoulder as you became at arm's length. His tense shoulder loosened and he sat up. Thrawn turned in the chair, his crimson gaze looking up at you. Softening slightly as he took you in before opening his mouth to speak.

“Did I wake you, ch’acah?” he asked, sitting the datapad on the desk. You took that as your cue to move to sit down in his lap. His warm arms encased you as you moved to touch his cheek. You investigated the glowing gaze for any clue of what was bothering him, but they were still as impassive and inquisitive as ever. 

“No,” you reply, as your finger caresses his cheek. He shutters slightly at the coolness of your hand against his warmer skin. Thrawn’s arms moved to encase you as he held you in his lap. “I just finished my book and thought I’d come to check on you.”

“I am alright,” he whispered, his eyes breaking their lock from yours for a moment. This was his usual phrase for ‘do not concern yourself with my troubles’, you knew. But being the good faithful spouse you were, you always dug a little too deep sometimes.

“You are not alright, love,” you pause and pull his gaze back to yours. “You are burying yourself in this busy work. Coming to bed tense and with so much on your mind. Tell me what is bothering you, so I may take that stress off–” Before you can continue, he places a caste kiss on your lips. His arms squeeze you tightly against him.

He broke away and moved to grip your chin softly before speaking. “You would never understand,” he said, his crimson gaze searching yours again as you raised a brow at him. 

You would never understand. 

What was that supposed to mean? You thought mildly as his grip on your chin grew a little tighter.

“If you never tell me. I will never understand, Thrawn.” You pause, collect your thoughts and continue on. “I am here for you and if you keep shutting me out, keeping those walls up I will never be able to understand. Let me help you, please.” Your eyes softened as did his.

In all your years together, he had always been very closed about his life before the Empire. Never really talking about his childhood, his family, nor his prior military service. Just little things here and there that were equally as vague as the man who spoke them. 

You thought that since he chose to love you and take you as his partner things would come out easier. But that had never been the case and he seemed even more closed off, but you pressed on and wanted to know more.

“Ch’acah,” he breathed with a sigh. “I wish not to worry you with my troubles.”

“Worry me, husband.” you breath against his lips. “That is what I am here for.” Your lips connected with his briefly as your arms wrapped around his neck before he pulled back and ran his hand up your back.

His eyes softened as he moved to speak. “Today was the anniversary of my brother’s death. I dread when it comes, so I bury myself in my work to alleviate some of the guilt. But it has been weighing very heavily on my mind as of late.” You feel tears well up in your eyes as you see the look in his eyes change for the first time.

Hurt and agony crossed them quickly as you ran your fingers up through the hair at the base of his skull. “Thrawn,” you breathe softly, sadness creeping into your voice.

“I miss him very much, and this day always weighs heavy on my mind. I try not to let you suffer in my grief, but I see I have caused a greater concern by doing so.” You kissed his lips softly at first but grew in passion over time. His hands moved to skate across the silky fabric of your sleep pants as he returned the passionate kiss you started.

You wished to take away this grief in any way possible right now but knew it was probably not the best idea to deal with grief in that way.

“He would not want you to burden yourself with this grief, Thrawn; he would probably want you to celebrate his life and his achievements.” You place your forehead on his and hold him tight. Trying so hard to take the pain out of his voice and body.

You both were quiet for a moment as he relaxed into your embrace. “Thank you,” he finally breathed. “Letting myself be vulnerable in front of the person I love has always been difficult; Thrass knew that, but now you do as well.”

“I’ve always known, Thrawn,” You breathed as you smiled at him. “I’ve always seen that in you, and I’ve let you decide on your terms if you were ready to let me in or not.” A slight smile crossed his lips as he gazed at you. 

“I am lucky to have you,” he breathed. “So lucky to have found you,” Your face warmed at his compliment.

“And I’m lucky to have you, husband,”

[t4tpumpkinduo]

OK not to be guy who's once again annoying abt lore and fanon misinterpretations but. ok v mild nsfw warning under the cut. it's just a critique of a very popular fanon ctnt dynamic that pisses me oawf so bad and i don't want to be misinterpreted in the process of critiquing it. ok.

-----

y'know how i always complain abt like...how cq is v susceptible to being reduced to a "hot dom role" so much?

the thing is. i actually do think he is largely a top. a lot of his character straight up lines up w it. he's a pouncer, he's eager to please, he likes indulging his partners that's just like. true. that's not the probble, however. 🤚 it's how it's being talked about, WHO it's being done by, and WHY. things of that nature.

first off, cq isn't like. a violent guy in the specific way fanon tends to portray him as.

the thing is. he's Ruthless. he's more than willing to take drastic measure, but outside of those situations, it's mostly just mc mechanics? he swats people playfully, he chases people w axes, but none of it is ever treated in any kind of different way, and especially not in a way unique to him. many, if not most, other characters do this as well, to him, to eachother. everyone on the dsmp is kind of annoying, and most enjoy a little minecraft coded rough housing, but to code it a certain way, towards THIS character, especially in lnv where he's explicitly trying to come across as more perfessional, and therefore ditching most of that rough housing and the inherent playfulness that it holds...

if you turn this specifically brown character into a domineering hair trigger physically violent freak at the expense of explicitly shown and stated character traits of his... all in service of sm white guy getting off about it.... do you like get what i'm saying....

another point i must mention: the fundimental misunderstanding sm ppl have abt las nevadas in the first place.

q is like 😭. not having a good time there. las nevadas in the first place, while objectively a labor of love, was also a gesture of desperation, same with him getting engaged to karlnap as quickly as he did. he wants to settle down w them as soon as possible so they won't leave him. that's what it is.👍 and then he gets left behind anyways. and with the compounding of everything, the gesture turns into a grave like immediately. it's shitty, it's bad, cq explicitly starts recreating the actions of actual shitheads (ctech cdrm), and ppl who warped his pov, even if unintentionally (cwilb cschlatt), because he doesn't know what else to do with himself. that's the reality.

but he also doesn't like doing it. 👍 that's the reality too, that's the wholeee. fucking point. he doesn't LIKE torturing dream, he doesn't LIKE manipulating people to the extent he does, he doesn't LIKE being alone and isolated. and while there are parts where he does find a twisted senses of catharsis about things sometimes, being the wielder for once instead of the guy being attacked like. it's still cornered prey animal trying to kill you swag. and the reason he's even be able to be pushed that far in the first place. is because he wants to and is actively planning on killing himself. legacy this, i won't be around long anyways. she sunk on my cost, this is all i have left to try, what's one more repulsive thing. my final stand.

so to then frame all this as like. actually super hot and super cool and. uuwgrurgrurgrueuURGRURYRGH. ok. hold on.

to make it abundantly clear: I DO NOT THINK CSCHLATT IS AN ABUSER. 👍 i never will. he narratively is not. he's an asshole, sure, and makes some terrible mistakes but. it's very very much not some unique evil. everyone on this server is an asshole. he wasn't an abuser to the cabinet, and especially not to cquackity.

i think to interpret this addict character, who has over and over shown to be sympathetic and more complex that ppl want to engage with, is still liked and vitally important to sm other characters, doesn't lay his hands on ppl in any way different than others do, as being a behind the scenes violent disgusting freak abuser is reductive and shitty and. bad. (and ableist. but yk.)

and even if somehow you want to interpret him as something else, despite the everything in the show telling you it's not true, you don't get to then turn around and make hypocritical handwavey arguments for cwilb when he and cschlatt are the exact same. they are direct narrative parallels, unignorably so. the pit = the festival. they're both deeply paranoid, deeply suicidal people who were genuinely psychotic for most of their worse actions, and if you can understand that cwilb doesn't deserve condemnation bcs of being put in a shitty situation and lashing out about it then you can very easily understand the same for cschlatt. 👍

i bring both of these points up to make my next point even clearer. cschlatt is *not* an abuser, but many ctntduoers are more than willing and happy to interpret him that way. and it's 👍 uhm. well. to layer on that point of lnv and its direct ties to self harm.

i like. very often see not only the complete dismissal of cq's issues with that. and. ugh. if you somehow see cschlatt as abusive. if you can get that cq's replication of behaviors in lnv are self destruction he doesn't actually like in pursuit of being "enough." why do i so so so often see. him replicating behaviors you're interpreting as abusive. specifically to get this white guy off. in his self harm context. completely uncritically. do i really need to explain. why that's not like. cool. lmao.

and even under the benefit of the doubt, the thing is, i never see exploration for it. i never see anything about how doing something like that would affect cq, how his mindset would lend to things, what he feels or thinks. there's no "reclamation", no restitution, there's no thought to him at all. this character who had direct issues with hating being treated like an object if he doesn't ask for it, being treated like an object. but don't worry guys it's actually ok this time. because i get to see my blorbo on the ground at the expense of everything this character stands for. i won't unpack the like obvious glaring bigotry rotting it's way through everything abt it too btw dw abt it dw abt it. it's fine lol.

idk. i hope i'm making sense, that i am explaining clearly and thoroughly enough. it's just so. tiring and deeply alienating and frustrating, and the absolute insistence to reduce poc to nothing but violent sex object caretakers and extentions to white characters is sooo i need to rip my hair out core. and to reiterate, i do think cq is largely a top, i don't think there's anything wrong writing certain dynamics or whatever the hell, it doesn't have to be a big deal. but can we. for once. with the brains that we have. try to think abt how things come across sometimes maybe. thanks.

[silverbladexyz]

Hi love! How are you? How have you been? Sorry for bothering, can I request Chuuya boyfriend headcanons please?

Thank you! Have a nice day/night!! 💞💞

Hiiii I'm alright, just kind of stressed recently because of life :') but I'm surviving! How about you?

The image does not belong to me. It belongs to it's original owner.

TW: Mentions of death, violence, slight suggestiveness. Gender neutral reader

Chuuya boyfriend headcanons

-Let's see... to win Chuuya's love and trust is no easy feat. To start off with, he's a Port Mafia executive, which means that he barely has any time for friendships, let alone love. And to top it all off, he himself has lost too many people in his life, something which made him put up all those walls around himself in fear of losing someone else again

-Be prepared for a lot of denial and internal conflict once he realises his feelings for you. Chuuya is not one that is entirely in tune with his emotions, and to express what he is feeling proves to be an even harder feat for him. He might give shorter and more curt answers back to you, and might even distance himself from you if he's overwhelmed with this foreign feeling called 'love'

-But once you do get into a relationship with him, it is one full of passion and sacrifices. Chuuya's loyalty knows no bounds, and trust me when I say that he will commit everything to you. He holds onto you like you were something that could be blown away from him by a mere breeze, yet he holds you as if you were a fragile treasure, one so hardly acquired and easily lost

-He is quite protective. Desperate to not lose you, he will take extra measures to ensure that you are safe whenever he is not around you. Whether you were another Mafia executive or just a normal civilian, Chuuya will always make sure that another Mafia member was around your area should you run into trouble when he was not there

-It will take Chuuya a while to get used to being in a relationship with you. He's still learning, so he would really appreciate it if you told him what he could improve on or what your opinion on some of his actions in the relationship was. He wants to be the perfect boyfriend for you, and he will try his absolute hardest to learn and make himself someone deserving of your love and attention. Please assure him that he is enough already

-Affection isn't something he is used to as well. Even his friends in the Mafia only did as far as to give him a pat on his shoulder, or even a hug in the rarest of instances. So if you suddenly give him a kiss out of nowhere, or brush your fingers against his lovingly, he will freeze a little bit before slowly reciprocating it. But over time, he does become more comfortable with affection, as long as you don't overdo it

-Now his love language would either be acts of service or quality time. Chuuya isn't the best at words or affection, and he does get you gifts every now and then, but since this relationship is so foreign for him it would take a while for him to use other ways to show his love for you. He would be more than happy to learn how to tell you 'I love you' through actions and thoughts

-Chuuya would definitely be a lot more gentle and vulnerable in a relationship. He trusts you completely, and he isn't one to hide secrets from you as he values honesty. While he may be brash and temperamental, he is also perfectly capable of showing that soft side he locks away in himself, and he shows it to you and you only

-Further on into the relationship, be prepared for Chuuya to tell you everything. His past, his insecurities, his trauma, everything. He doesn't expect you to comfort him or help him, he just wants someone whom he can talk to and not worry about being betrayed or judged. So when you hugged him and assure him of how strong he was and how lucky you were to have him, it's from there on that Chuuya appreciates you the most he has ever appreciated you before

-Chuuya has a few hobbies that he likes to do in his free time, but he is interested in your hobbies as well, and often does them with you as he gets to spend more time with his beloved. His favourite things to do with you include taking you on motorcycle rides, have friendly sparring matches with you, wine-tasting, and even just shopping for exquisite and high-end clothes. He'd involuntarily spoil you since he has a lot of money, but he doesn't mind it if you spoil him too

-Kissing was a whole new experience. He will start off a bit rough and awkward at first, so it is mostly up to you to guide him with small movements of your lips and fleeting touches with your fingertips. Chuuya is surprised at how much he likes to kiss you, and you do note that his kisses do eventually get a bit softer as time goes on

-But if you wanted to make out with him? He's down for it and will mostly take the lead. His hands will grip you firmly but gently on your waist as he dominates the kiss. Spice it up a little by fighting back or by teasingly running your fingers along some more of his sensitive spots on his neck. However, he will get you back for it

-Love him, and he will love you back infinite times more than your love for him. Chuuya Nakahara is but a man; a man who has had everyone leave him; a man who doesn't let his past define who he is. His love for you will forever burn brighter than the flames of passion that consume his very being

So I feel like this was more deeper and serious than all my other posts. Chuuya to me is such a complex and deep character and it gives me a rare sense of thrill to write for him, especially when I get to analyse the other parts of his character that is not explicitly shown or told.

@circinuus @nekokinax @xxsigmakinniexx @xxelfmamaxx @yuugen-benni @ashthemadwriter @lakeside-paradise @catzlivedforbsd @sariel626 @yukitomybeloved @irethepotato @voyagewiththesatan @arisu-chan4646 @chuuyas-beloved

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Special Ch. - Rex x F!Reader - Birthday

Summary: It's your birthday on Coruscant, and the Bad Batch gave you the best present ever.

Tags: Smutty mcsmutterson. 18+. NSFW. "Basically, all the good stuff."

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected, mentions of polyamory

Notes: So today is myyy birthday!! I've had this idea for quite awhile, and last week realized I wanted it to be my bday present to all of you. I wrote in the time I had, probably not as packed full of juice as I wanted it to, but I like it the way it is :) Enjoy, fellow clone hos. @dumfanting, @kaminocasey, as always, thank you for reading and ramping me up!

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

Its your birthday and you’re

On

LEAVE!!!!

IT'S AMAZING!!!!! Its rare and unheard of and a one in a MILLION chance, but somehow the stars have aligned so that you get to celebrate your birthday on solid ground, away from the war. 

Your parents, friends, extended family - everyone has been so happy that you’re alive to see another year, they pooled their credits and got you a luxury suite at one of the upper level hotels in Coruscant for the night. Oh, you feel like the Queen you are in here - a real bed, with SILKY sheets, a sitting area, a walk in shower, a massive bathtub- uh. Its EVERYTHING.

And as much as you love your boys - its a night WITHOUT THEM!!!

You had been very clear - you cared about them all very much, and they were NOT coming with you to this nice place. Tech would have made a mess everywhere, Echo would have felt uncomfortable in the lavish apartments, Wrecker would break everything and smell up the place, Crosshair would find some way to put a dampner on it, and Hunter would probably be affected by all of the scents and soap bubbles you planned to have in the air. So, while that meant you were sans snuggle buddy on your birthday, that was OK for the trade. 

Some of the boys in the 501st wouldn’t be this way. One in particular was used to the finery, would respect it, would enjoy it… what if he was here with you?

Mmm, but no. That ship had launched long ago. And you had your men. You were happy, and this one occasion wasn’t ruined just because you were alone. 

You starfish on the mattress and take a deep breath. Ooooo sleep was going to be so good. Strange, since you would be alone, but soooooo goooood. You order room service and start up the bath. Oh my, this oil scent was called “Goddess”...

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Collectively, Clone Force 99 has several strengths - charisma, uniqueness, nerve, talent, power, courage, tenacity, the list went on.

Buying gifts was not one of them.

“OOOOO!" Wrecker lightly hits their table by their favorite noodle stand. "Wha’ about flowers? Women like those, right?”

Tech keeps looking down at the table, chin in one hand as he thinks. “Potentially. But which are her favorites? And where would she put them? They would not last long in the Marauder with our lifestyle.”

Wrecker rubs the back of his neck. “Well then, what about, like, a necklace? Something real fancy she can wear for us?”

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “Oh yes, and with what credits would we buy her something like that?”

“UH…then, a book?”

Echo shakes his head. “For her birthday? We get those for her anyway. This needs to be special.”

“Maybe one of those, uh… special toys? Like the one Crosshair got?”

They’re all quiet, thinking about it, glancing at Tech.

“It is possible… though I would need time to plan, gain measurements and components - perhaps if I’d started a week ago-”

“Discussing work during shore leave, huh?” Commander Cody chuckles as they all glance to where he's standing just behind Tech. “Can’t say I blame you. Hard to get away from the war anywhere.”

“Commander." Hunter indicates a vacant spot for him to join them. "Didn’t know you were on Coruscant.”

"The Generals were called back for something important, so I’ve got a night or two in town." He says, sitting himself down. "Figured it was a good night to get out to 79s, loosen up, have a bit of fun." He glances around, making eye contact with everyone in greeting. "No Queen of yours tonight?"

"No. Today is her birthday, and her friends and family have gifted her some peace and quiet. Something we do not seem able to match."

Cody chuckles. "Ah, I'll have to send her a com. Pity though. Rex always brightens up a bit when she’s around- he could use a bit of happiness right now."

Echo glanced at his brothers, then back to the commander. "Is something wrong with Captain Rex?"

Cody sighs, shaking his head. "Nothing uncommon. The war is… its getting to him. Hasn’t had much to look forward to, I think. Since the Commander left, they’ve all been uneasy. And he hasn’t ever really sought out... female company before besides your medic. Wish he had someone planet side he could blow off some steam with, but... just not his thing, i guess."

Echo puts his hand on Cody's shoulder. "He’ll be alright, Commander. If there’s anything I, anything WE can do, just say the word."

Cody grins. "Thanks, Ech, I’ll do that. Ah," he looks towards the main thoroughfare "there he is." He stands, tucking his bucket under his arm. "How about you boys join us? Perhaps he just needs a night of 99’s brand of trouble.” He heads off with a nod, making for the Captain of the 501st.

As soon as he's out of ear shot, Hunter turns back to his squad with a grin. Tech nods with a small smile. Realization dawns in Echo's eyes, and he nods carefully. They all look to Crosshair, his arms crossed, mouth pursed in a terse line.

"No."

Echo runs his hand down his face. "Come on Crosshair-"

"No." Cross hisses. "No regs."

"I'M a reg-"

Tech cocks his head to the side. "Are you resistant because he has punched you in the face before?"

Echo's eyebrows shoot up as he looks to the sullen sniper. "He punched you in the face? Why? What did you do?!"

"………" Crosshair glares at Echo out of the side of his eyes, then leans forward, elbows sitting on the table, glaring at Hunter.

"Alright. One night." He glowers.

Hunter nods, barely hiding his amusement. "We’re agreed then? Her Majesty’s birthday present?"

“Yeah!" Wrecker says, punching his fist in the air before pausing to look at his brothers. "Wait, what’s happening?”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rex must be crazy. He must be CRAZY. What the hell was he doing, walking up these steps to this hotel, heading to the elevator, making for the door that SHE waited behind. The woman he’d dreamed of since she’d signed on with Kix. Fuck, was this really happening? They’d told him it was ok, that this was what she wanted, but she- did she really? Were they playing a prank on him? If it was, it was in poor kriffing taste and he would court marshall the fucking lot of them for getting his hopes up like this. 

He has to talk himself into walking up to the door several times. Twice he starts and then backs off again. Blast, he can head into uncharted enemy territory with a deep breath and a gun, but into a…a potential romantic encounter? 

He steels himself and knocks on the door before he can think about it.

Your voice, low and relaxed, comes from within. "Just a moment please." He feels his anxiety mount- and then the door opens before him.

You're standing there in a white silk bathrobe, tied loosely, and you are most definitely naked under it. His heart starts racing, his cock jumping to attention, pushing against his cod piece. He can see your curves through fabric outline, your cleavage glistening from the oil you're covered yourself with. The smell from your room is clean, perfumed, enticing, like a pleasure den inviting him in. He swallows a groan. A kriffing angel. Just WAITING for him. Deep breath. One step at a time.

"Captain!" You smile. You seem to realize what you're (not) wearing and cross your arms over your chest. Your smile turns bashful, but remains joyful. "What- how did you know- to what do I owe the pleasure?"

He swallows. Don't kriff this up, Rex. "U-Um. Good evening, your majesty. And Happy Birthday. I uh, well," he holds up a small bag, "I brought you some dessert, and a, uh… a note. From your squad." He hands both to you. You smile a thank you and place the bag on the table beside the door.

You look at him, amused and suspicious, as you take the note and start to read it over. He watches your eyes go wide as they dart across the page, your hand jumping to cover your mouth in surprise. You glance up at him bashfully, voice hushed. "Do you...um... know what this says?"

"Yes." His own voice is barely audible, searching for your answer in your eyes, in your body language. He'll leave in an instant if he sees any hesitance- but instead you step to the side, granting him entry, though reading the note again.

He steps inside - and he loses. He finally loses the long battle with himself about your role in his life. His eyes find yours as he closes the door, pushing you up against it, his arm leaning on the steel over your head. 

One last chance. "Tell me if this isn’t what you want, a-and I’ll walk away-"

He doesn’t get to finish, you’ve pulled him into a kiss that lights his veins on fire. You both groan, tongues entwining, impatient to make up for lost time. You jump up and he catches you, legs wrapping around his waist. Blessed stars, they were right. You moan against his lips as his cod piece presses against your core, giving him the perfect chance to bury his face in your neck, kissing and biting at the exposed skin. 

"Reeeex."

His hips rock at his name on your lips. How many times had he dreamed of you moaning for him? Too many. Far too many. 

"If this is a dream, please don’t let me wake up." He murmurs into your neck, completely caught in your scent, in your feel. He rocks against you again, your arms encircling around his neck as you whisper in his ear.

"Rex… I can’t wait, i’ve waited so long already, please don't make me wait."

Kriff, you'd been needing him too. "Here?"

"Yes. "

He reaches under your thigh to undo his codpiece, lips finding yours again, tongue slipping in to ravage you in his turn on. Karking hell, up against the door, so needy for him, his little medic, wanting him so badly-

He lines himself up and pushes in, and oh your MOAN. He can feel you stretching around him, but you’re rocking your hips, taking him further than he intended. You’re so wet that he slides in like he belonged there, bottoming out like you’d already been fucking for hours. 

"Kriff, like you’ve been waiting for me."

He can’t be away from your lips for long. He can’t stop himself from biting your lower lip, his hips gyrating feverishly to fill you up. But its not the angle he wants- its hard to focus here, vertical. 

He picks you up off the wall, still sheathed inside you, walks you over to the bed to lay you down. There. Much better. He’s still mostly in his armor, but he can’t stop for a second to take it off, not when you’re right here, when you feel so good. He’s back to your lips, kisses bruising as you pull him closer. 

"Yes, Rex, yes."

His moans into your kiss, his thrusts starting slow, but deep. You’re clutching at the back of his armor, doing everything you can to bring him closer in your frenzy, and hes losing his composure. Fuck, he wants more. His groans and thrusts are out of his control, simply needing to reach that ultimate moment of release. He can’t stop now, he’s lost himself to how DEEP you are, how well you take his cock. You’re ruining him for any other woman, he knows it, and he loves it. 

He feels you cum, you’re so TIGHT he can feel you coming around him. He groans as your walls squeeze him, sending him closer to his own release. 

"Mesh’la- kriff- I’m going to cum. Where-"

Surrendered, hungry. Lost like he is. "Inside me, Rex, please. As deep as you can." You look up to find his eyes, the connection you've both had gleaming through.

"Kiss me, Rex."

He finishes with a groan, his lips tangled with yours, tasting your tongue in his mouth as he spills as far in as he goes. He can feel your cervix as he empties himself, and something feral in him feels satisfied. 

He stills, but his lips can’t stop exploring yours, wanting to hold onto the moment as long as they can. His face eventually falls to your collar bone, panting with the effort your frenzied love making demanded as its toll. 

He hears a small laugh ringing from above him. He pulls himself up to look curiously down at you.

Your hand cups the side of his face as you playfully squeeze around his softening cock.

“Its good to see you too, Captain.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So you’re with all of them? Its not a rumor.”

You look up at him from your slice of cake, eyes tracing up over his armor-less form. You’d demanded that it was your birthday, and while you ate cake, HE was going to undress and give you a little show. Which he had. With a maddening little smirk. Now, he sits down next to you, shirtless, with only his compression pants keeping things…calm.

You hum with pleasure as his warm hand settles on your knee, your legs tucked up underneath you as you lean against the back of the couch, your elbow perched atop. You take a bite of cake with a flirty smile. He watches your lips with a slight intake of breath, eyes glancing down. You’re still wearing your white silk robe, albeit a bit…looser. 

“It started as a rumor, but we… liked the sound of it.”

“And…you’re happy?”

You take the last bite, letting your grin speak for you.

He shakes his head with a smile, still taking it in. “Well, that’s one way to show them.” He takes your plate and puts it on the coffee table. “Not sure I would have been able to think of that.” 

You gracefully swing your leg over to straddle him, hands tracing along his collar bone. “Blame Hunter. His senses and I have a love hate relationship”

He chuckles at that. “I forget how much he picks up. Though in this case, looks like it worked to your advantage.”

“This time.”

He chuckles again. Its good to see. The more he’s here, the more seems to melt off of him. It warms you to know you have that affect on him- it means you’re special to him. He’s always been important to you, and here… you’re becoming closer in a different way. It’s all out in the open. He meets your eyes- he must see something there, because his smile fades. He doesn’t look away.

“I wanted to say something, mesh’la.”

He looks down to where his hands rests on your hips.

“I did. I wanted to ever since you showed up ready for duty. You were everything I could have wanted in a woman. But I… I couldn’t. I just…” He struggles with his words for a moment.  “...The war. My brothers, my general, it all has to come first. And I didn’t…want you to resent me for it. I couldn’t bear that.” His hands clench around you slightly. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t enough for you. I’m sorry if I let you down.”

“Rex.”

He looks back to you. With a smile you bring your hand up to his neck. He leans into you, eyes closing for a moment before meeting yours again, waiting for what you have to say.

“I know.” You say softly. “That's one reason I like you so much- I know who you are. If you were any different, you wouldn’t be one of my favorite people in the galaxy. You could never let me down.” Your hand traces from his forehead back through his hair, gently massaging the scalp, eyes glancing back to his. “Its best this way, and I’ve always known it. I’m not your responsibility, Rex. I’m your respite. And if that’s how I can contribute to your happiness, that’s enough for me.”

He chuckles, nuzzling your chin. “I think we’ve found another way you’ve ‘contributed to my happiness’.”

You put on an exaggeratedly offended voice "Oh, Captain. You ain’t see nothin’ yet."

You move to slide down between his legs-but his hands on your hips keep you in place.

"Ah ah, mesh’la." Ooo, mischevious looks good on him. "You’ve had your dessert. Now I get mine."

His hands trace up your thighs and over your ass cheeks, massaging, pulling you further into his lap. You feel his thickening length trace against the outside of your lower lips. 

He lifts you up with him (just how strong IS this man? You swoon a bit more.) placing you on the table. He kisses down your neck, along your collarbone, down to your breasts. You expect him to bite, to leave his mark, but he doesn’t. It feels…respectful to your squad- a temporary visitor, not a claimant. Your heart soars even higher. 

He nuzzles between your breasts. "Light, firm, or not at all?"

You giggle to yourself- the epitome of a gentleman. "Gentle, please."

"As you wish, mesh’la."

He traces along your breasts, slowly playing with your nipples, lightly tracing his tongue along them, living for the small sighs and purrs as you pet his hair. When they’ve pebbled enough to look almost painful, he nuzzles the tip and keeps kissing down. He looks up at you, eyes amused, excited.

Happy.

"Gentle?"

"Yes, please." You breathe, taking in his ministrations, savoring everything with a bliss that can only be found in the finite first time. 

He licks a long strip from the bottom of your opening to the top, pulling a sharp, longing groan from your lips. "Oh, sweetheart, I can taste us both together."

So concentrated, so gentle, tracing your clit with his tongue, slowly… do you dare say lovingly?... sending shivers pulsing through you with every stroke.

"That’s right,” he hums into you, “let me taste you. Better than any cake I’ve ever had."

His tongue plays in earnest, no longer entrusting your clit to nuzzles and passing strokes. He WANTS it. It feels like he’s reaching for his pleasure instead of yours with the earnestness he eats you out. Your thighs involuntarily clamp around his head as he licks a particularly sensitive stop along the sensitive bud. 

Before you can apologize, he groans. “Don’t hold back, mesh’la.”

You can feel him slide a finger inside you, your hips rocking to suck him in deeper- its not nearly enough for how much you need him right now.

"Rex. Another one, please. I want to be so full of you."

A groaning growl as he nips your thigh. “Be careful what you wish for, mesh’la.”

His mouth goes back to your clit, sucking, pulsing, teasing it out of its hood. You feel another finger slide in- quickly followed by a third. His thick fingers… fuck so many inside of you, filling you up so full, stretching you out.

"That enough for you, mesh’la? Kriff, you’re so sweet for me, aren’t you? Ready for me to take you, fill you up for the rest of the night."

Your breath catches, your pussy squeezing aroud his fingers. “Rex…” You look down to meet his eyes gleaming up from between your thighs. “Don’t leave my side until morning. Please?”

He pauses for a moment, meeting your eyes. "Mesh'la." His lips find yours, fingers withdrawing to pump his cock with your slick, lining up with your entrance. He pulls away, his forehead to yours, taking in this blessed moment of being here with you.

“Tonight? Dooku himself couldn’t drag me away.”

He slides into you, pulling you closer to him, his hands in your hair as he kisses you. Your combined moans are the most beautiful music that only the two of you can make.

—------------------

What a NIGHT.

You are amazingly sore the next morning, kissing Rex in a way that should last him several cycles before heading down to meet your squad at the shipyard. You both linger, but you know the score- and you're both satisfied in knowing you have someone out there who cares about you, who wants only the best for you, who is excited to see you again.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A giggling laugh draws Crosshair to the top of the Marauder’s ramp, looking down at the happy reunion below him - Hunter spins you in his arms in welcome, kissing you as he sets you back down. He and Echo are adding a bit of character to the outside of the marauder - something tasteful, Echo insisted - and were able to greet you. Echo waits his turn. As you turn to him, reaching for him, he takes one hand and spins you around before dipping you into a kiss. 

Looks like they had completely different reactions to sharing you than he did. Great.

There you are, looking around for the rest of them, that’s probably Hunter telling you Tech and Wrecker were in the city. You glance up to see Crosshair waiting, leaning on the door frame of the ship. And Hunter’s saying something else to you. Something that makes your eyebrows pinch in worry before smoothing out. Great, now you know he’s been grumpy. Probably going to come up apologizing, making it worse. 

You take the steps up to him, fingers hooking into his utility belt. Your eyes are… wait, a little TOO innocent… what-

 “Good morning, Crossy. Did you miss me?”

Oh, you little BRAT.

His hand darts out and grabs your chin, making you gasp, but not in fear. He turns your head for him, looking along your neck at the faded bruises left by the batch. 

“Did he mark you?”

“No,” you purr, amused eyes teasing him. “Mo marks, no bruises, nothing. He knows who I belong to.”

The same hand flips and grabs the collar of your armor, pulling you closer to him. Fuck he was so hard - knew you were daring him to tame you, knew that’s what he needed to make this whole thing better. 

“Do you?”

Your eyes glint for a moment before you pretend to be thinking, looking up into space with a high pitched “Ummmm-”

His hand closes around your neck, lightly pressing against your breathy gasp. Your half lidded eyes look up into his sinister face. He takes his time removing his toothpick with the other hand and throwing it off the side of the marauder. 

“You’re confined to my bunk for the next three days. No touching yourself, no cumming- I’ll know, or the others will tell me. I’m going to take whatever I want from you, and maybe if you beg me enough, please me enough- after those three days I’ll let your pretty pussy cum all over my cock.”

He can feel you shiver in antici-"Have I made myself clear?"

Your voice is soft, breathy. "As crystal."

“Good. Then go.” 

He hesitates for a moment. He pulls you to his lips, kissing you far more tenderly than his hand on your throat would have you believe. He’s not grumpy anymore, not angry- he’s back in control. You knowingly gave him back the control. That deserves some sort of reward.

“Yes, Princess... I missed you. And I’m glad you’re back. Happy Birthday.”

Happy Unbirthday, tag list!

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[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing VII

Master list here (links to chapters, summary, and bios)

Warnings: blood, cuts, restraints, head injury, concussion

Dylan watched in the following weeks how alive Halle came on missions. How much Halle enjoyed leaving Tectus even if it was just for a car ride to the far side of the city. Everything excited Halle. Is it such a bad thing to be trapped in a tower with me?

Halle was a mystery to Dylan. You are so soft, so young. So new. And yet so hard. Halle was a hard ass, always pushing Dylan to share more and more about himself. “I need to know more so I can heal you better,” Halle said as she stitched up a cut on Dylan’s forearm one afternoon. There hadn’t been time on the mission to do so and Dylan hadn’t been that worried at the time. But the moment he was back and Thomas clapped the cuffs back on, Dylan could no longer put off being treated.

“There’s nothing in my past at this point that would help you stitch up a cut, Halle.”

“Are you a doctor?”

My aren’t you spicy today. “I think you already know the answer to that,” Dylan said as he tried not to smile.

“Then how do you know it’s not relevant? And sure, maybe I don’t need to know things for this cut, but I do for other things. You said you can’t get sick. How do you know that?”

I haven’t been sick in…well….it’s been a long time. “You’ve been here four months, Halle, have you seen me get sick?”

“No, but—“

“Exactly. Not even when everyone, including yourself, got food poisoning from those sandwiches that sat out too long did I get sick. And I ate four sandwiches.” It’s one of the few perks of what has happened to me, if I must say.

“Well what about allergies? Medications that work better for you?”

So persistent. “I don’t have any allergies that I’m aware of. All sedatives, pain killers, and other medications with sedating side effects wear off quickly. I think I metabolize them too quickly. And as for are other medications more efficacious? I don’t think so. No one’s ever really told me what they inject me with. And I don’t really care to ask so long as it works.”

And yet she was gentle and kind. But above all of things, Halle cared for Dylan. Albeit likely as a friend. “I brought you this,” Halle said as she brushed past Dylan through his open door. Halle held out a handful of small candies. “These were my favorite when I was a kid.”

“Thank you, that’s kind of you to share.”

“That’s what friends do. And I was thinking I could get more of these if you like for our next movie night. I think we need a marathon. I have the weekend off, which makes me think you do, too.”

I very much doubt that. Whatever mission they want to run is above your pay grade, Halle. “I would love to have a marathon. Though perhaps we can have a rain check until the next time I’m laid up on the off chance the Authority deems it necessary for my services.”

“Nonsense, I bet you have the weekend off, you’ll see.” Halle was very much wrong, but Dylan wasn’t surprised. Though Halle was extra gentle with Dylan after he returned. “I’m surprised you don’t have a skull fracture, Dylan, this is one of the worst concussions I’ve seen someone have without a skull fracture.”

Oh it very much was a fracture, fortunately it took us a while to get back, so no cuffs allowed the fracture to heal a little. It seems my brains were scrambled very quickly. “I’m very lucky I take it.” The room was spinning. He couldn’t read or watch tv. Everything made his eyes, and therefore brain, hurt.

“Let me read to you, you need to stay put for a while.”

“I know you wanted to do a movie marathon. You could—“

“I only want to watch it with you, Dylan. Besides, I think you’ll really enjoy this book.”

You are kind beyond measure. I am very lucky to know you. You are so kind to me. You treat me as a human. But I am not human. I am a miserable wretch. You’ll figure it out one day. And then you will recoil in horror like they always do. You’ll leave me just as they all do. And I’ll be alone once more. “Thank you, Halle,” Dylan said as he closed his eyes and leaned back against his pillows. He listened to Halle read the book as he drifted off to sleep.

But as Dylan spent more and more of his waking hours with Halle, he realized he may like Halle more than as a friend. You won’t ever reciprocate. How could anyone love a monster like me? But that’s ok. I can live off your kindness. I can live as your friend. Because that’s more than I could ever hope for.

“What do you think our next mission will be like? Do you think we’ll get to go somewhere cool?” Halle asked one evening as she sipped on her hot chocolate. It was the first cool evening Patricanus had and Dylan had begged Halle to go to the kitchen and get some hot chocolate. “I just want to go on adventures! It seemed like every deployed team came back with such tales. But we’ve only stayed within three hours of here. All I’ve seen is the countryside I know all too well.”

Yes, because they want to be sure I won’t scare you away before they reveal some serious secrets. “And that’s not adventurous?”

“I want to go on adventures, Dylan! I want to see the world. The world, Dylan! When do we get to see the world, Dylan?”

Dylan happily slurped away at his own mug of chocolate. “I don’t know, does it really matter?” I don’t want to talk about missions. I want to talk about you. About the world you live in. About anything besides this God forsaken place. Please.

“I would just like to go somewhere I haven’t been before. Which is a lot of places. I didn’t get to travel very much growing up.” Halle gripped her mug tightly.

“We didn’t have very much money to travel either. It was one of the perks of coming here.” Don’t be embarrassed. People have joined Scutus for a lot less. I know what it is to be hungry. To go to bed with an aching belly. And to hunger for a life bigger than the one you know. Of course I’ve had my fair share of hunger here as well.

“At least you’ve seen the ocean. I’ve never even been to a beach before.”

“I can take you,” Dylan said with a soft smile.

Halle stared at Dylan, eyes narrowing. “Dylan you can’t even leave this room unless Thomas takes you. How are you going to take me to the beach?”

The only way I know how. “Lay down, Halle.”

“Why?”

Dylan held out his hand for Halle’s mug. “Trust me, nothing bad will happen.” Please, believe in me.

Reluctantly Halle handed over her mug and flopped down onto Dylan’s bed. “Now what?”

“Close your eyes.”

Halle closed them. “Now what?”

So impatient. “I want you to picture with your mind’s eye water as far as your eye can see. Turquoise water. Cerulean water. Pale green foam. Water as far as you can see. The water surges towards you and retreats away. You stand on pale sand. The warm sand squishes beneath your feet as you walk towards the water.”

Dylan closed his own eyes as he was transported back to the last time he had gone to the beach before everything had fallen apart and he had been brought here. “You see little crabs running away from the waves. You can feel the spray of the sea. Smell its salty sweetness. The sun has warmed you and the sand. As you step into the water, its coolness is a relief. You let yourself be taken by the waves, floating weightless in the ocean’s embrace.” Something I will never have again. Something I sorely miss.

Halle suddenly sat up. “How did you do that? I was really there!”

Dylan smiled wistfully. “It’s one of the few things my memory is good for. I can enjoy them. I can imagine better ones. I can go to the beach any time I want.”

“I’d really like to go one day.”

Me too. “You’ll get to, I’m sure.”

“Do we ever get down time in missions?”

“Yes.” But I’m not allowed out of Thomas’s line of sight. Or whoever has been assigned to mind me. But you could go and enjoy the world and all it has to offer.

“So you could take me to the beach for real then!” Halle reached for her mug and took a big sip.

Dylan drank deeply from his own mug. Pretty to think that’s a possibility. I would love to take you to the beach, Halle. Take you anywhere. Just a chance to make you smile. See you experience something for the first time. Be apart of a memory. “Maybe,” he lied.

“You’ve got whipped cream on your nose,” Halle said with a big grin. She leaned over and wiped the tip of Dylan’s nose, sucking the sweet cream off her finger.

Dylan swallowed. That’s not fair. You have no idea what that does to me. This is cheating. But you don’t know. You aren’t cruel. You could never feel about me as I feel about you. That’s ok. I can live off the kindness. That is more than I could ever ask for. Thank you. I don’t deserve you. “Thanks.”

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[staledirt87]

What if Human!Au

Janus is the father of Virgil and Remus

Patton is the father of Logan and Roman

Logan and Roman are both adopted, as is Remus but Virgil is the bio son of Janus and unnamed ex. The foster house Roman and Remus were in refused to advertise them as siblings as Remus was a "problem child" and Roman was a "golden boy" so Patton and Janus had no idea they were seperating twins.

A lot more under the cut:

There's always music playing in Janus' house, every day he comes home and puts on a jazz or classical record on the old record player he got from an antique store. On relaxed days Janus will come home, put on a record, and read on his armchair with Virgil listening to the music on his lap and Remus drawing at his feet.

Patton makes sure there's always fresh pastries in the Hart household. There's never a limit to how much they can eat as long as they eat an actual meal along with it. Logan always offers to do the measurements and Roman doesn't let anyone else do the mixing. It's a good day when there's flour everywhere, at least one egg got dropped by Roman, and there's warm cookies on the cooling rack.

Logan talks and talks to Roman who writes and writes about what he's told and they excitedly present their work to Patton who is always chest-bursting proud no matter what. Roman and Logan only ever fight when they play together and Roman's ideas are too fanciful for Logan and Logan's ideas are too boring for Roman. Only Patton can settle those arguments by either distracting them with something else or saying "actually, that can work if you do this!"

Virgil is really reserved around Remus at first, clinging to Janus' leg whenever he was near, but then Remus showed him his drawings of monsters and demons and Virgil pointed out a spider and then they were best friends. One day Janus gets called to the school because Remus punched a kid because they were bullying Virgil for crying over a spider and Janus makes this big act of being disappointed and saying "I'll make sure he learns his lesson" for the principal when really he takes them both out for ice cream afterwards.

Janus takes Virgil out record shopping as he refines his music taste, buying him whatever records he wants. As a birthday present Janus and Remus buy and paint a record player for Virgil's room. Whenever Remus runs out of paint or pencils Janus takes him to all the art stores he can and buys like a year's worth of supplies. The best gift he ever got wasn't even for a special occasion, on a whim Virgil composed a playlist for one of Remus' smaller sketchbooks and Janus payed someone to press a vinyl of it with the cover art being the cover of the sketchbook. They have movie nights on an old projector of classic slasher films.

Patton makes days of things. Roman wants to see a play? They're going to the mall afterwards and maybe even going to the aquarium. Logan wants to see the meteor shower that night? They're watching documentaries about deep space objects and meteorites all day until it's time to star gaze. Unlike in the Lis household where the main love language is quality time the Harts excell in gift giving and acts of service. Logan got the box set for all of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's works and a poster of the observable universe on a random Tuesday and Saint Patrick's Day respectively. Roman comes home one day to see all of his scripts edited in eraseable ink and his favorite sweets on the kitchen table. Patton never gets tired of telling them stories at night, taking suggestions from both kids and expertly weaving a tale of magic and science and evolutionary pathways of dragons until both are asleep.

The kids meet in high school and Roman and Remus immediately have a bond. They don't recognize eachother as brothers yet but there's something there that they both feel. They write comics together and commonly argue about the plot and designs, but their relationship never really falters. Virgil attaches himself to Remus' side and because of that meets Logan. Their bond strikes much slower than the twins' but eventually Logan becomes the #1 person Virgil goes to when he's having a panic attack or anxious about something: whether it's talking him through excersices or just being present Virgil always thanks him with a song recommendation or a sneak peak of a song he's writing.

Janus comes home from work (defense attorney) to Remus' embellished tales of the four's escapades and Virgil listening to music, somehow hearing and correcting every time Remus tries to make Virgil look stupid. Occasionally they'll vent about a teacher that took away Remus' figdet toy because it was "distracting" or forced Virgil to present in front of the class. On those days Janus will make them their favorite foods and put on the special jazz record he only ever uses when it's been a tiring day or one of the kids had a nightmare. Janus doesn't hesitate when Virgil is having a bad anxiety day or Remus can't get gory explicit images out of his head to call them out of school with a forged doctor's note.

Patton works at an elementary school so Roman and Logan walk there after school and do homework in his classroom until school lets out. After Patton is able to leave Roman starts telling them an equally embellished story of the day with Logan's occasional correction when it starts getting too outlandish. On bad days where the students were rowdy and Roman got his notebook taken away for writing in class and Logan got picked on for taking slang literally they'll go home and bake whatever they have the ingredients for.

As the friendship goes on they start spending more and more time with eachother outside of school, Remus and Virgil taking the time that Janus is still at work to join Roman and Logan at the elementary school or the Hart kids visiting the Lis house to chill and listen to music. Janus and Patton never officially meet until it's 3 am and they're in the police station because the twins convinced the other two to jump a fence and Remus' sleeve got caught in the barbed wire and their combined yelling alerted someone walking their dog.

They get to talking more after that and notice some similarities in the twins when they were younger. While Remus used to talk about his "brother at the foster home" Roman would mumble in his sleep about "how unfair it is the knight has to save the dragon." Janus does some digging and finds out the truth. They discuss how best to tell them before eventually deciding on a conversation over a laid-back dinner.

It doesn't stay a laid-back dinner, as soon as they sit down Virgil immediately realizes something is up, which means Logan and Remus realize, which means Roman also knows. Logan asks what's wrong and Virgil just points to Janus: "the snake is gonna tell us something." Janus looks impressed and him and Patton tell them what they found out. Roman and Remus freak out and are split between being pissed they didn't realize before or ecstatic at finally reuniting.

[universitypenguin]

Hey Alice :) I don’t know if you’ve received this question before if so please feel free to ignore! But I was just wondering what do you think Lloyd and princess’s love languages are?

Thank you for asking this! It took me a minute to write an answer this because I had to re-read the story to find supporting evidence for my claims. Here's what I came up with for each character...

Lloyd’s Love Languages:

Physical Touch - I would say Lloyd’s primary love language is physical touch. For example, in chapter seven there’s a passage where Lloyd expresses how he feels about Princess taking his arm when they’re walking together that reads:

On the street, you slipped your hand into the crook of his elbow. He was surprised at how nice it felt. Here, you could show affection without worrying about being recognized by the wrong person. Anyone who looked at you right now would perceive you as a couple. He liked that.

And from chapter nine when Princess hugged him in the elevator:

A smile tugged at his mouth. He loved how assured your movements were as you curled yourself around him like a cat. Your hands darted under his dinner jacket as you nuzzled the open collar of his shirt.

2. Quality Time - Next to physical touch, Lloyd also highly values quality time spent with Princess. He likes having her in his space, even if the “quality time” is just them quietly working on separate projects. To him, it still counts as them being together and having a shared experience. With that said, what he likes most of all is having Princess’ undivided attention to himself. For example, take this sentence from Lloyd’s POV in chapter nine:

He loved basking in your attention and frequently soaked up every morsel of it that you could give.

3. Gifts - Lloyd finds gifts very meaningful. This is part of why he decided to participate in Valentine’s Day for Princess. Choosing the right gift, making sure it’s well-received is a huge part of what Lloyd enjoys about the process of gift giving. For example, his POV in chapter nine when he was waiting for the garment bag to be delivered:

... his focus was on the hotel room door. The clock had ticked past five-fifteen and his patience was running thin. He didn’t have much to spare in the patience department under the best circumstances. Since he was giddy with excitement, it was even thinner than usual.

A few of his other comments from that chapter also demonstrate how much thought he put into picking out thoughtful, considerate gifts for Princess:

“It’s for tonight. Go ahead, try it on. I had the store buyer compare measurements with the dresses I found in your luggage, so it should fit.” “The buyer picked your shoes. I told her the kinds of heels I’d seen you in before and said whatever she chose should be comfortable enough to walk in. The shoe collection was beyond my comprehension.”

4. Acts of Service - While I wouldn’t say that Lloyd dislikes acts of service, they’re not really his cup of tea. He can appreciate having things done for him, but because he’s spent so much of his life being independent, Lloyd is very efficient about doing things for himself. He’d rather be spending time with you than having you run an errand for him or take care of a detail he doesn’t want to do himself. Also, because taking care of things for Lloyd and generally making his life easier is something Princess has always done, those acts don’t mean much to Lloyd. He’s not dismissive of how much she helps him or anything, but he doesn’t consider those acts of love - just business as usual.

5. Words of Affirmation - Now, moving on to a love language Lloyd actively dislikes… words of affirmation. For him, spoken expressions of love and praise often feel insincere or artificial. Lloyd finds more reassurance in actions and tangible experiences, rather than in verbal declarations. He values authenticity and believes actions speak louder than words. Due to his childhood trauma, the vulnerability that comes with verbal affirmations makes him extremely uneasy, and he often interprets them as unnecessary embellishments. He’s worked on his emotional capacity but even so, he often finds other’s emotions (and even his own) confusing. Lloyd’s emotional lexicon isn’t great, either. So having the vocabulary to describe his emotions, assuming he could overcome his aversion to verbal declarations of love, is highly unlikely.

Princess’ Love Languages:

Quality Time - Similar to Lloyd, Princess places great importance on the time they spend together. She values sharing space with him, being around him, and talking to him, regardless of the topic. Her definition of “quality time” can mean anything from reading a book on the other end of the sofa while he watches a football game on T.V., or going on a fancy date that he’s planed for her. She especially likes it when he prioritizes spending time doing things she enjoys, such as going to the Botanical Gardens, visiting an art exhibit, or browsing through a bookstore.

2. Words of Affirmation - For Princess, words hold significant weight. Expressing love, appreciation, and reassurance with verbal affirmations strengthens her feelings of emotional intimacy. That said, it’s not just “I love you” that holds significance for Princess. She values Lloyd’s compliments and other verbal expressions of affection. For example, Lloyd having given her a special nickname is one of the acts that satisfies her craving for “verbal affirmations.” Him acknowledging out loud how much their relationship means to him also works. For example, take her reaction to what he said in chapter seventeen:

“But if you need me, I’d be there in an instant. You know that, right?” “It goes both ways. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” His words were spoken so tenderly that a lump the size of a golf ball swelled in your throat.

3. Physical Touch - While not her primary love language, physical touch is still important to Princess. Actions like holding hands, being hugged and kissed, and having Lloyd put his arm around her shoulders are meaningful to her, they’re just not the most important. She understands how much Lloyd values being touched and that makes her feel more connected to him, so through their relationship, physical touch as an expression of affection has become more important to her.

4. Acts of Service - Princess appreciates when Lloyd takes the initiative to help or support her. Being the oldest meant that the bulk of household chores fell on her, so when Lloyd does things like: grocery shopping, cooking, the dishes, or does her laundry without being asked, it gives Princess a thrill. Especially the laundry - that’s the chore she hates the most. The sight of Lloyd doing laundry always gives her butterflies. She really appreciates him doing these things because it contributes to the harmony of their relationship.

5. Gifts - Gifts rank lowest on Princess's love language list. She doesn’t prioritize material expressions of love very highly, but she still values thoughtful gestures and understands the sentiment behind the gifts she receives. Seeing how much thought Lloyd puts into the presents he chooses makes her feel valued and reminds Princess that he’s always paying attention to her wants and needs.

[hekateinhell]

Hi! I'm a show watcher that's been trying to get into the books. I have seen around that Armand vowed to never make a fledgling but broke this vow for Daniel. Why did he vow to never turn another person?

Hi! 🖤

Okay, just a head's up - there's no real way I can give a detailed answer without spoilers so save this for later if you'd like to avoid them for now!

Jumping in, Armand actually touches on this topic in TVA and gives a somewhat straightforward response:

I was a firm believer that those we make ourselves will always despise us for it. I cannot claim that I have never despised Marius, both for making me and never returning to me to assure me that he had survived the horrible fire created by the Roman Coven. I had sought Louis rather than create others.

Armand never wanted to create other vampires, which is really no surprise given how horrible most of his lived experience as a vampire had been.

He also seems to have a preference for communicating via the Mind Gift, almost as if comes easier to him than communicating verbally. When a vampire turns a human, it closes off their minds to each other forever — something Armand particularly emphasizes in his tirade to Lestat in TVL when he mentions 'the veil' aka 'veil of silence':

"Oh, but it's always a travesty, don't you see?" he [Armand] said with that same gentleness. "Each time the death and the awakening will ravage the mortal spirit, so that one will hate you for taking his life, another will run to excesses that you scorn. A third will emerge mad and raving, another a monster you cannot control. One will be jealous of your superiority, another shut you out." And here he shot his glance to Gabrielle again and half smiled. "And the veil will always come down between you. Make a legion. You will be, always and forever, alone!"

Armand will never be able to communicate with his fledglings the way he can Lestat and others besides his own maker.

And interestingly enough, Armand did accurately prophesize the outcomes of several of Lestat's fledglings over the next hundred years. Gabrielle (shuts Lestat out); Nicki (goes mad); Louis (resents him); Claudia (need I say more?).

Even if Armand didn't have so much trauma from his own life and his maker abandoning him, I have to imagine bearing such close witness as to how the maker/fledgling dynamics played out for Lestat would be enough to make anyone second guess the whole idea. For Armand it must have served to reinforce every preconceived notion he had on the matter. He even said to Lestat:

"Remember that when your dark children strike out at you, when they rise up against you. Remember me."

And we have still to broach the final layer (in this post — dissecting the entire topic will end with me writing a dissertation and nobody wants that). But Armand was torn away from his maker at a very young age and he did spend the next three hundred years of his life in service of a Satanic cult, which was instrumental in shaping his perspective and driving home the belief that vampirism is the ultimate condemnation.

Yet in the centuries of his long obedience, Armand kept two secrets to himself. These were his property, these secrets, more purely his than the coffin in which he locked himself by day, or the few amulets he wore. The first was that no matter how great his loneliness, or how long the search for brothers and sisters in whom he might find some comfort, he never worked the Dark Trick himself. He wouldn't give that to Satan, no Child of Darkness made by him. ~ Lestat passing on Armand's story as it was told to him in TVL

In a way, I think it was the only measure of autonomy Armand felt he might have had during the cult years. He wouldn't give that to Satan! He wouldn't do that to another being!

And yet, eventually... he did.

And yes, Armand was different person by the end of Devil's Minion but it was obviously still a decision that pained him. One that he said he did out of loneliness but also love, and it's up to the reader to decide how hyperbolic Armand thought he was being when he tells Daniel as he's offering him the choice: "We'll be in hell together after all."

As an aside: it fascinates me how Armand and Lestat both suffered from this agonizing loneliness and yet they each approached it in entirely opposite ways.