#and as always if you have something to add or contribute let me know!

[beatcroc]

sonic scribbles of varying ages and intents. surge from mid 2022 when i was first catchin' up on idw, silver from a few months ago when i was trying to figure him out, the rest from late 2022 from memory with stylization and redesigning where i couldn't be assed to try and stay on-model

[fuckmatpat]

Community and blog resources:

Matpat Replacement List (or creators to watch INSTEAD of matpat)

Matpat's Transgressions. (WIP)

[simpxxstan]

svt + nerdy y/n!!

a/n: this is absolutely self-indulgent. i'm sorry if i'm writing slower than usual, i'm trying to get back on track!

sfw content. gender neutral reader and established relationship.

very mildly suggestive (pg13 audience only!). nerd here refers to anyone with academic interests or a general high level of interest in uncommon/niche topics. i've tried to make the concept of nerd as inclusive as possible.

seungcheol

not a nerd himself but will encourage you 100% to be a nerd- buys you new pair of glasses when your eyesight worsens, new documentary CDs and even membership of a hundred foreign journals.

defo has a sapiosexuality kink- you can guess how attracted he is to your intelligence. but he's the smarter one on the streets, so he'll take care of you in every way possible while you stay in your little geeky bubble.

it's always baby let me recharge your phone bill for you; baby please eat your meals on time; baby you can't stop drinking water because of exam stress; baby if you're pulling an all-nighter, call me over, i don't want you to stay up all night alone.

jeonghan

loving jeonghan involves so much cuddling and lazy time when you both just lie under the blankets, his head is on your stomach and your fingers in his hair. it's at these moments that he encourages you to read out for him and he hums along whenever you pause to check if he's fallen asleep.

but jeonghan draws the line sometimes. he is supportive- but only when you're not trading off your time with him for the sake of peering into books.

you can sit with me and solve bivariate normal distributions or whatever you have to do, he whines into your ear. but you keep tickling me and i mess up the calculations! he laughs at this, i can't help it if you're just so ticklish, baby.

joshua

three years ago, joshua would've laughed if someone told him he would be more interested in the latest discoveries of astrophysics than in who's winning the la liga matches. but here he is- successfully converted into a nerd entirely because of your influence.

joshua was ridiculously easy to convert. all it had taken was the shiny, lovesick look in your eyes when you'd ask him if he wanted to watch a documentary on alternate universe theories with you, and he'd said yes in a heartbeat. and then it had just been a spiral into the metaphorical black hole. and he does NOT regret it, as long as he gets to spend time with you.

josh is this getting too boring? you'd quietly ask after an hour of the documentary, guilty for being too absorbed in it to even look at your boyfriend and see how he's faring. but joshua is melting at your concern, so even if it was a little bit boring, he'll reassure you sweetly, not at all baby! this is so new and interesting!!

jun

yes he may be from china, but clearly you know more about his own roots than he does! whenever you're watching news, jun loves it when you fill him up on some quirky background info that he didn't know about, but adds so much value to the context of the news.

in awe of your academic capabilities and keeps bragging about you to everyone. feels so proud when he can contribute to something you're passionate about too. he CANNOT fathom why someone as nerdy and intellectual as you should want to be with him.

junie, you're so smart! you praise him after he reports a profit he's making on a stocks investment. he shyly giggles, not like you, baby. you shake your head, i may be book smart. but you're street-smart!

soonyoung

hyper and calm partners!!!! he used to get annoyed with how you would pore into your books all day and how focused you were on your studies, but now he sees the charm in it all. it makes you happy, and in turn, he gets to wrap himself around you and be as clingy as he likes.

he really tries to follow with your nerdiness, his enthusiasm is there he swears! it's just not his fault that his attention span is so low and he ends up staring at your lips more than actually listening to you.

baby are you even listening? you ask, pouting. it drive him even more insane and he ends up giving in to his instincts and kissing you. yes baby! i heard everything!

wonwoo

WILL BE GEEKY WITH YOU! i imagine the two of you sitting next to each other at a table, him focused on his games and you're focused on your studies, your feet in his lap, and you're both sharing the same cup of coffee.

he loves collecting pretty little diaries for you, because he knows you write little poems and trivia in those diaries. whenever he's out on tour, he's bringing a locally-made diary for you, and if possible, he customises it with your name imprinted on it too.

wonwoo, there's a new adaptation of pygmalion getting shown in the theatre! do you want to go watch? i want to take notes from this adaptation and write about it on my blog... you need not even explain so much, wonwoo bought the tickets already when you began to talk about it.

jihoon

feels so giddy when he comes home from work and the first thing you do (in between his kiss attacks) is tell him a new fact you learnt today in whatever is your latest obsession.

jihoon loves his personal space, so when he's found you who's equally fond of your personal space and interests, it's literally a match made in heaven. they say it'll put distance between the two of you, but it really does quite the opposite!

jihoonie, can you help me learn this table? maybe ask me randomly and i'll try to answer. jihoon wants to tell the table to self-destruct from the entire world because you're near to tears trying to mug it up. but he doesn't. instead he says, love, how about i make a song for you which simplifies this? like a mnemonic but nicer.

seokmin

man was too desperate to get out of school to understand why you choose to be a nerd. but it's hella cute, so he doesn't need to understand. he's obsessed with your quirky habits- the way you bite your lips when you're finding a topic difficult, the way your glasses slip down your nose and you irritatedly push it up again, the way you crave the hot chocolate he makes when you're under exam stress.

admires your smartness so much! WILL brag about it to everyone he meets. WILL bring up the fact you told him yesterday, in today's conversation with his members just to show off your smartness.

posts stories about you being so cute while working hard for your exams but it's just you with oiled hair, acne breaking out like hellfire, and cramming notes at breakneck speed (you don't talk to him for an hour after this, but he doesn't get why you're so embarrassed, he only sees cuteness.)

mingyu

another one who WILL be nerdy with you. mingyu's always been a curious boy- even as a child, he would be drawn into new ideas easily. nothing is different now, and mingyu sits with you often when you're studying, his hands often wandering to your shoulders to massage them, and bringing you a regular supply of ramen and snacks.

you have a habit of repeating to yourself what you read, so mingyu steps in and asks you to talk to him and explain the topics to him as if you're teaching him. safe to say, he gets VERY turned on after such mock 'teaching' lessons and eventually loses focus on what you're saying.

gyu do you remember that paper i wrote last month? yeah, it got selected for a journal. you say it so nonchalantly that any other person would think you're showing off. but mingyu knows how much it means to you, and you're only downplaying it because you think mingyu won't think it to be a big deal, as most academic snobs tend to do. but lucky for you, mingyu knows exactly how precious an achievement it is to you, so he shows his appreciation to you instead of merely saying it (by showering you with kisses that make you tingle all over).

minghao

OH oh. will listen to your rants with the sweetest subtle smile on his face. will buy encyclopedias and reference books for your mini library. will take you to speaker sessions, workshops and other such informative events across the city, even places you've no idea about.

the most ardent supporter you could have asked for, he is in awe of your mental capabilities and your intelligence. you both have a lot of quality time where you're just sitting together and doing your things, but minghao values it like no other activity in the world.

hao? there's a new parcel at the door. you call him when a delivery arrives and he's at work. open it. he may not be around to see your reaction, but he can sure imagine the grin that's bursting out on your face when you squeal his name into the phone on seeing the hardcover special edition version of your favourite collection of essays.

seungkwan

lots of wide-eyed wondering at why you would want to stay rooted at a spot and read books over playing badminton with him. he wants to complain that you've chosen your academics over him, but that'd be a lie, so he can only half-heartedly whine about it.

comes around to your point of view as soon as you start showing him documentaries (on animals living in the Himalayas, as per your latest obsession). it begins with him finding the animals cute, to eventually finding you cute when you animatedly talk about them. and once he's totally converted, it's fairly easy for you to convince him to help you with exams.

expect eye rolls, smug smiles and hair being brushed back nonchalantly when the questions he had asked last night from your texts actually matched with the ones asked in the exam. i told you, baby, he whispers in your ear. now i want my reward, you've been drowned in books for way too long and not paying any attention to your boyfriend.

vernon

it was a surprise to him as well when he realised he's got a massive sapiosexuality kink. as someone who's run as far away from the education system as he could, he doesn't even know why he finds it so attractive when you're being nerdy. but, well, he does.

he loves hearing you talk about whatever it is that you're learning lately, and sometimes something or the other catches his attention. and then, you know he'll dive right deep into it to know all about it, until his curiosity is satisfied.

nonie, what's the video you sent me? you ask him when you return home from uni. i wondered if you've watched this one. it explains the theories of why the harappan civilization disappeared so well. you can only smile at his enthusiasm, i bet you've been looking at conspiracy theories again, nonie. the guilty grin on his face says it all.

chan

chan listens so well, but you can't really blame him if he doesn't retain the information. he's elated simply to have you wrapped in his arms as you talk about what happened in your classes today, and his nose in the crook of your neck so he can smell your lovely scent. intermittently nods his head (just wants to rub his nose on the soft skin of your neck) and hums in agreement of what you just said (suppressing moans when he can feel your heartbeat quicken when he presses kisses to your neck too).

it doesn't matter what your new niche is, but he's indulging it. he admires your ability to stay focused in a field as demanding as academia, and he's all for you to go ahead with your interests and education as long as you want to learn.

you wake up to post-its on your forehead every day when chan has had to leave early for work: get out of the house and get fresh air. shampoo hair today, interview tomorrow. practice the introduction speech again. drink water and take vitamins. STOP DRINKING COFFEE. and you giggle at each of them, because they're all things you've tried to remember for yourself and forgotten, so chan reminds you like this, but his cute handwriting and the little XOXOXOs he's drawn all over make your heart melt.

[steddieas-shegoes]

He’s not sure why he even comes to these parties anymore. He used to sell at the frat houses, made his rounds until he was out of product, made more money than any minimum wage job he could find near campus.

But he hasn’t in a while. Months, at this point.

It’s just that every time he came to one of these idiotic showing of riches and popularity, the most beautiful man he’d ever seen was sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Sometimes he stood in a group of people in the living room, but never contributed to the conversation. Once, Eddie saw him swinging his feet back and forth in the water of the hot tub on the back patio with three different couples making out inside it, completely zoned out.

Eddie needs to keep an eye on him. Hence, he attends the stupid parties.

And it’s stupid, to go through so much trouble for a guy he doesn’t even know, who probably doesn’t even notice him back. It’s stupid, but Eddie’s never claimed to be very bright.

Which is probably why he walks up to the guy when he’s about two seconds from punching Tommy Hagan, grabs his wrists, and tugs.

“The fuck are you?” He asks Eddie, reasonably confused and angry at being interrupted by a stranger.

Eddie could feel his pulse against his fingers, swore he could feel a spark of electricity flow between them.

“Eddie. Just leave him. Whatever he did isn’t worth it,” he said through clenched teeth.

His fingers tightened around Steve’s wrists as he considered trying to pick him up, throw him over his shoulder, and walk out of this party entirely.

“How the hell do you know?” Steve wasn’t trying to pull away.

Eddie didn’t let himself think about that too much.

“I just know nothing Hagan does is ever worth trouble for you. C’mon,” Eddie tugged on his wrists again, and this time, it seemed to catch the guy off guard.

“Didn’t know you were into freaks, Harrington,” Tommy said as they took a few steps away from him. “If you’re gonna be gay, you could at least have taste.”

Eddie froze.

The guy, Harrington, tried to pull his wrists loose, but Eddie didn’t let him.

He turned to Tommy, the guy who almost got him arrested for selling at his party only a few months ago, and smirked.

If he was gonna out someone to a stranger, Eddie had no problem doing the same right now.

“And you just sucked my dick because you wanted to add it to your résumé?” Eddie grinned at Tommy, who quickly looked around to make sure no one else heard.

“As if I would-“ he tried to say, but Harrington cut him off.

“You forget you say shit when you’re high. You told me about it already. I think your exact words were, ‘he had the best dick I’ve ever seen, Steve.’ Or am I mixing that up with another dick?” Steve pulled one arm loose from Eddie’s grip, brushed hair from his face, and let it relax at his side.

Eddie could let go now, he was sure if anyone would start something at this point it would be Tommy. But Steve wasn’t trying to pull his other wrist loose and Eddie liked the warmth of him in his hand.

“Whatever man, just go. You don’t even wanna be here,” Tommy turned and left before Steve could respond.

Eddie finally let go, but he didn’t like the immediate sense of loss that filled his chest.

“You always interrupt strangers before they fight?” Steve asked him, hands shoved into his pockets.

Eddie really looked at him, inspected him. He only ever saw him at these parties, so the lighting was shit, but he’d noticed the dark shadows under his eyes a while ago. He noticed that he held himself in a way that showed he was always ready for a fight. Steve’s hair had gone flat over the last month or so, not nearly as voluminous or shiny as it had been at the start of the year.

“Are you okay?” He asked instead of answering the question.

“I’m fine, dude.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t seem okay.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Just seems like something is bothering you,” Eddie wouldn’t push more, not if Steve was actually gonna get mad. But something told him that nobody pushed Steve to talk enough.

Eddie had Wayne back home, and his friends in his band here, and a couple coworkers at the bar he worked at twice a week now that he could joke around with. Steve didn’t even seem to have the people he hung around with.

“Why does it matter to you if something is bothering me?”

That’s a fair question. Why does it matter to him?

“Maybe because I just wanted to help. That’s what people do, right?”

“Not for me, usually.”

Eddie stepped closer, barely leaving space between them. “Well, I am.”

Steve stared back at him, shoulders dropping and eyes losing that angry fire.

“Why?”

Eddie was an idiot sometimes, but he was able to read people pretty well. It’s what kept him safe for most of middle and high school, and made him friends in college.

He knew what it looked like to be lonely and depressed, and Steve had check marks next to both of those.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie asked, once again avoiding his question.

“And go where?”

“I’ll show you my favorite getting high spot.”

“I don’t really smoke with strangers,” Steve seemed nervous.

“You don’t have to smoke. I’m just gonna show you the place.”

He watched Steve think about it, noting the way his brows scrunched together, how he bit his bottom lip, how he looked at the ground instead of at Eddie.

“Fine. But if you murder me in the woods, my mom will have you hanged,” Steve finally said.

“Hanged? Do they even do that anymore?”

Steve giggled. “Probably not. But she’d find a way.”

“Well, I’ve got no interest in murdering you, big boy.”

The blush that filled Steve’s cheeks was stunning. A perfect pink dusting his skin, giving him a healthier glow than what he’d had for a while.

“What do you have interest in?”

Eddie could say any number of things to flirt, make his true intentions clear, maybe even go straight back to his single dorm instead of showing Steve anywhere.

But Eddie figured that’s all Steve was used to, or maybe he was always the one who had to put an effort into things.

Maybe he wasn’t used to getting treated like a human being.

“I’d like to get to know you. Parties like this aren’t really a good place to learn about someone’s favorite song or what they snack on when they wake up in the middle of the night.”

Steve seemed shocked by this answer, but his features quickly melted into a soft smile, one Eddie would want to see every single day.

“Fine. But it’s not a date,” Steve held out his hand, ready to be led.

Instead of lacing his fingers with Steve’s, or even just grabbing his hand in his palm, he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist again.

“We’ll see.”

———

On graduation day, Steve and Eddie found their way back to their spot, one they’d probably never visit again.

Eddie’s fingers were curled around Steve’s wrist as they stood facing each other, close enough to feel each other’s breaths against their lips.

Nearly two years together, nearly 300 trips to this spot, and more than 500 dates that they never called dates.

And it was just the beginning.

Eddie leaned in to press his lips to Steve’s gently, keeping it soft so they wouldn’t get carried away.

They had to meet Wayne at the Italian restaurant in less than an hour and then Steve’s mom expected them back at Steve’s apartment for a wine and dessert celebration.

They wouldn’t be properly alone like this again for at least a couple days, but they didn’t have time to do much about it right now.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered as he rested his forehead against Steve’s.

“I love you, too,” Steve said back.

He didn’t have dark shadows under his eyes anymore, spending more nights sleeping in bed with Eddie than awake at parties he didn’t want to be at. His hair had most of its shine back. He’d put on a few pounds after joining the gym again, using it as an outlet for stress instead of hiding in corners at parties where he would drink just enough to get buzzed four times a week.

He made friends with Eddie’s friends, plus some of his own when he got a part time job at the coffee shop on campus.

Steve never spoke to Tommy again, at least as far as Eddie knew. He didn’t seem interested in being his friend again, and once he told Eddie more about their “friendship”, he couldn’t really blame him.

“You ready to go see Wayne?” Steve asked him, probably more excited than even Eddie was.

Wayne and Steve bonded quickly and they’d probably spend most of the lunch talking about sports and where they would go fishing this summer.

Eddie nodded, but he pulled something from his pocket before Steve could pull away and start walking back to the car they now shared.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, pointing towards the envelope in Eddie’s hand.

“It’s a gift from me to you. Well, I guess both of us, but I really got it for you.”

He handed it to Steve, who opened it quickly.

He pulled out the paper inside and Eddie watched his eyes fly across the words written there.

“Eddie.”

“Stevie.”

“You got us a trip to Italy? How the fuck did you get us a trip to Italy?” Steve was looking at him, eyes wet with tears.

“Doesn’t matter how. Wayne gave us some money for it, so did your mom. I’ve been saving for a year. Want us to have something special before we have to start working.” Eddie kissed his forehead. “Plus I want any excuse to see you in some of those see-through linen shorts.”

Steve’s lips were on his, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him there.

“I’ll wear them every day,” he gasped as he leaned in for another kiss.

Eddie laughed. “You won’t hear any complaints from me, sugar.”

“I can’t believe you did this. All I got you was a t-shirt.”

“You know I love t-shirts. I know you love Italy. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but kissed him again.

His eyes widened. “Oh my god. Are you gonna propose in Italy?”

Eddie snorted. “Why would I answer that question?”

“Because! I have to know!”

“Why?”

“So I can make sure I have a nice outfit for pictures, dumbass.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. You look good in everything,” Eddie kissed the top of his head before he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist and tugged on it once. “Let’s get to Wayne before he sends a search party.”

Eddie smiled to himself as they walked to the car, Steve’s rambling about what he wanted to do in Italy keeping his mind from wandering too far. He couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had stashed away in his guitar case, though.

Italy was the perfect place to propose.

[yoon-kooks]

paired & pierced | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.

⛓️word count: 5.3k

⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she's tight, he's big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: this is a request from @screamertannie !💖 im not used to writing dom/sub stuff but i tried!! paired & puppy-eyed is jungkook's pov✨

It’s become somewhat of a pre-class ritual for the gals to gather around your desk to discuss anything from the latest frat party hookups to guessing the lengths of your male classmates. The gossip doesn’t particularly interest you, and you’ve never once contributed to the cock talk. But who are you to tell them to leave you alone? If people naturally gravitate toward you, you should see it as a good thing.

“I heard that hottie Tim is single again,” Blue Hair Girl says, turning to you with the curious eyes of a true gossiper. “Y/N, you were hanging out with him at that party last weekend, weren’t you? Is he as big as they say?”

“Didn’t see it.” And you’re glad you didn’t. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when he approached you, but he kept pulling you in for PDA conveniently when his ex was in sight. He was clearly using you for something you want no part of. In the end, you let him off easy by saying you had to leave early to feed your fish (you don’t have any fucking fish).

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Blue Hair Girl and the others give you a few pouty frowns.

“Yep.” Not really.

“Well, speaking of hotties, I’ve been trying to get Hoseok’s attention for a week now,” Nose Ring Girl sighs. She suddenly grasps your hands and pleads, “Wait, Y/N, you’re friends with him, right? Think you can give me his number?”

You wouldn’t call Hoseok a “friend”—he’s more of an acquaintance you happen to be friendly with, much like everyone sitting around you. But you do have his number. You have a lot of people’s numbers on your phone even though you can’t match any of their names to their faces.

“Here.” You flash your phone screen with Hoseok’s contact info before Nose Ring Girl. Her eyes light up like fireworks.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re the best!” she squeals.

Toward the end of class, your professor announces something that makes your stomach turn.

“The midterm will be a partner project where you have to debug the code I assign to you and add on to it in a creative way,” she explains. “And because I’m nice, I’ll let everyone choose their own partners. Please let me know who you’ll be working with before taking off.”

You hate this. You’re surprisingly okay about the debugging part because the masochist in you kind of enjoys it, but you’re not okay with the partner part. When it comes to choosing partners, it never ends well for you. Because despite how many people you surround yourself with, you always struggle to find someone who chooses you before anyone else. 

You’re no one’s number one.

This time is no different. The girls who were so happy to be gossiping at your desk an hour ago are partnering up with one another on the other side of the room. Among them, Nose Ring Girl doesn’t appear to have coupled up yet, so she might be your only shot. Besides, you did her a favor earlier by giving her Hoseok’s number. The least she can do is partner up with you.

“Y/N, guess what?” She skips over to your desk with a big fat smile on her face. “I just texted Hoseok, and he asked to partner up with me. It’s all thanks to you, babe!”

“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound so disheartened.

She gives you a quick hug before heading back to the boy you indirectly set her up with. You’re happy for her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck. Whether intentional or not, it feels like everyone who comes near you just wants something from you—love advice, a boy’s number, PDA to make their ex jealous, or even answers to the homework—which is fine to an extent. The problem is that people keep taking, and you’re tired of not even getting the bare minimum in return.

To top it all off, Big Tim is headed your way. Yes, you want a partner. No, it’s not going to be him. You’ll pick literally anyone else in the class over him. The question is: who else doesn’t have a partner yet? People are paired up left and right. 

Except for maybe the boy sleeping in the seat right next to you.

“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed half-hurried voice. The boy doesn’t move an inch. Maybe he’s dead.

You hop out of your chair, stand in front of his desk, and tap on the wooden surface in front of his face. Still no response.

Aware that Big Tim is inching his way closer, you crouch down to hide as if that’ll buy you more time. The boy in front of you needs to wake up right now.

You reach toward his slumped-over body and peel off his hood. There’s a good chance he isn’t dead and just didn’t hear you because he had earbuds in or something. You hope.

No earbuds. But you do find something worth noting—a trail of empty piercing holes up his earlobe. You don’t know Jungkook all that well, but he’s been in a bunch of your comp sci classes and you’ve never seen any piercings on him. You’d remember something like that because you’re a huge sucker for boys covered in piercings and body art. All you remember is that he’s quiet and always gets the highest grades on exams because he’s a genius or whatever.

“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper into his ear and tap one of his fingers. A sleepy eye finally peeks at you. Thank god he isn’t dead. “Wanna be partners?”

He sits up slowly, adjusts his glasses, and looks around the classroom before turning back to your puppy eyes. “Sure, I guess.”

“Good, good,” you sing, scurrying back to your seat. Partner secured. Mission accomplished. Just in the nick of time.

“Y/N, still looking for a partner?” Big Tim asks at your desk.

“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry.” You give an apologetic smile. You really need to stop that. If you had just been brutally honest with him the other day at the party, he wouldn’t be here bugging you now.

“That kid asked you to be his partner?” He points a finger at “that kid” who appears to have gone back to sleep.

You nod even though you were the one who technically asked Jungkook.

“And you said yes?”

You nod again. Big Tim continues to stare as if he’s waiting for you to abandon Jungkook for him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole in the first place, you wouldn't be actively avoiding him like the plague. He had his chance.

After several awkward seconds, he finally backs off and Jungkook rises from the dead once more.

“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you,” Jungkook yawns as he fluffs his bedhead around. He looks so nice and toasty in that hoodie. No wonder why he falls asleep in class so easily.

“That’s not what he wanted.” He wanted to use you to hurt someone else. And you don’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.

“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” That’s just the illusion you’ve created. It feels so fake.

You shake your head. “Let’s just say, if a house were on fire and these people had a choice to save either me or one of their actual friends, I’d burn down with the house 10/10 times.”

“And who would you save?” he challenges you. That’s an easy question.

“No one.”

“Good answer.” The edge of his lips curves upward ever so slightly. “Alright, if it’s cool with you, I’ll just do the project myself and slap your name on it. Shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”

“Wait, I wanna contribute too, you know,” you argue. He might be a smartypants, but you’re not the type of person to slack off and make him do all the work. You wouldn’t be surprised if other people take advantage of him on group projects like this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t even bother with fake social interactions with peers the way you do. You admire him for that. “We should meet up and work on it together over the weekend.”

“I’m busy,” he says. Bullshit. You can tell when people make up excuses to get out of things because you’re guilty of it too. The difference is that Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat it with coverup stories like needing to feed your nonexistent fish. Why do you find that so attractive?

“Busy with what?” You flutter your eyelashes and challenge him the way he challenged you. The fact that you’re fighting over the right to help with the project is both silly and refreshing. Usually, it’s the opposite where you’re forced to plead with your group to pull their own weight. But here you are, practically begging the boy to let you do some coding with him. Him pushing you away is a huge turn-on.

“My newborn.” He says it with such a straight face that you take his word for it.

“You have a child?” Your eyes sparkle. That either makes him a young single dilf or a committed family man you probably shouldn’t be batting your eyes at. For everyone’s sake, you hope it’s the former. “If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?”

For a long while, he just blinks at you like you’ve said something horribly wrong. Oh no. Maybe he’s still with the kid’s mom and now he thinks you’re trying to invade their space and be some kind of homewrecker.

“I was just fucking with you…” he admits. Why does it feel like he has secondhand embarrassment from your gullible ass? It’s fine, though. You much prefer being gullible over the homewrecker angle. Then he inputs his number and address into your phone. “But if it makes you feel better, come babysit my kid tomorrow.”

The next day, you wake up a little earlier, dress a little cuter, and feel a little more excited than usual. You’re usually indifferent (if not stressed) about hangouts and parties, but Jungkook is different. It’s fun talking to him, and you don’t have to put on a fake smile around him. He’s even got that hot grumpy boy vibe that you’re determined to win over.

After knocking on his door, you wait for a good minute but there’s no response. Maybe he’s still asleep or butt-naked in the shower. You would’ve messaged him that you were on the way, but you were scared he might have second thoughts and cancel the meetup altogether. You’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened to you in your college career.

Just as you lift your fist to knock again, the door swings open. The boy who stands before you has a full sleeve of tattoos, too many piercings to count, a whole man bun, and a handsome face that looks exactly like Jeon Jungkook’s. You didn’t know he had an identical twin with a totally different style. If he wore glasses with a hoodie and took the man bun and piercings out, he’d literally be your quiet neighbor from coding class. It’s fascinating.

“Isn’t it common courtesy to give someone a heads-up before showing up at their door?” he says with his phone in hand. Same grouchy attitude though. You love it.

Wait. You suddenly remember all those mysterious piercing holes you discovered on Jungkook’s ear less than 24 hours ago.

“Why do you look like that?” You point a finger at him as if your question isn’t already rude enough. Maybe you should rephrase it. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”

“Maybe.” He lets you into his home, but you’re more concerned about all the sick art on his arm. If he ever rolled up his sleeves in class, you know you’d be too distracted to focus on the lecture. Perhaps that’s why he keeps it all hidden. He’s just looking out for you and your higher education. Yeah right.

“Why do you hide all of this at school?” You’re sure everyone would be coming to you for his number if they knew what he was hiding up his sleeve.

“Tattoos and piercings give people something to talk about,” he explains. “And I’m not really a fan of compliments or small talk.”

Oh. He’s aware of the physical and emotional impact his body art would have on anyone lucky enough to see it with their own eyes. Your poor body is already aching to see more.

“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” Or about how hot you find his lip piercing. You’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a lip ring. You’re feeling pouty all of a sudden so you bring out the puppy eyes again.

He studies the way you shamelessly work your charm on him, and you wonder if he picks up on the temptation in your pupils. “I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment,” he huffs, finally giving in.

You’re quick to wrap your eager paws around his arm and examine it like it’s your most prized possession. The problem is, he has way too many tatts and piercings to fit into a single compliment. You could write a whole essay expressing your love for each piece you see, and that doesn’t even include the ones still buried beneath his clothes.

“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” Funny how he’s acting all impatient and bothered by the “fondling” but doesn’t shrug you off of him. In fact, he was the one who lent you his arm in the first place!

“I wish I could see all of them.” That’s your compliment. Because you love the lusting implications behind it.

You flick your eyes up from his arm to his face, and sure enough, he’s got his eye on you as well. It’s almost a crime that it took this long for the two of you to come together like this. You’ve been neighbors in coding class for the past few weeks, and yet you were too busy with the popular crowd and he was too busy not giving a fuck about them. All you want to do now is make up for lost time.

The only thing that distracts you from the boy is a puffy tail minding its own business in the corner of your eye. When you look down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the tiniest fluffball dropping a mouse toy at your feet.

“Ooh kitty,” you squeal as you squat down to play with the pink-nosed darling. It’s so tiny it fits in the palm of your hand, and its meows sound more like squeaks. “Wait, is this the newborn you were talking about?”

Jungkook nods. “I found her about a week ago and she’s been a menace ever since. Especially in the middle of the night.”

“Is that why you’ve been falling asleep in class lately?” You like the thought of him scolding the kitten for zooming around at 4AM only to fall back asleep with her on his chest. You’ll take a cat dilf any day.

“Yeah. But it also doesn’t help that the professor never says anything important.” He picks up the mouse toy and drops it off with her stash of goodies including a pink bed, a pink blanket, and a pink bunny plushie. The kitten hops into the bed, cuddles up with her bunny, and has the boy cover her up with the blanket. What a spoiled little thing. “So what’s this project about again?”

“You’d know if you were listening!” Gosh, you can’t stand smart people who sleep through every lecture and still come out on top while you’re taking notes and working your ass off. You still want to fuck him though.

“I’m just fucking with you again.” He finally cracks a whole ass smile and it’s beautiful. You’re mesmerized by it as he scoots you over to the computer in his room. “I already finished it, by the way.”

So much for fulfilling your dreams of coding with an exceptionally handsome boy. With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, you run the program on his screen.

As expected, it runs smoothly, free of any bugs. He even threw in an interactive portion with a sleeping kitty. Total cat dad vibes. It’s great, and there’s really no need for you to tamper with the work he’s done. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being the one to carry you on this project. Besides, you have an idea of how you can spice up the program and expand on the kitty part.

You spend a good amount of time going through the code line-by-line and inserting small bits here and there. Once you get to the kitty part, you add in a function to wake up the cat and have it start dancing around to a few different songs from your favorite kpop group. When it’s all set, you run it back, earn Jungkook’s stamp of approval, and submit it for your professor to grade.

“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd.” He leans on the chair over your shoulder. You’d correct him on Big Tim’s name, but you’re too focused on the way he looks at you with such gorgeous dark eyes.

“If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd,” you fire back. This is the kind of banter that results from putting two smartasses and an immense amount of sexual tension in the same room together. You want more of it.

“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him,” he says rather casually. “Doubt you would be either, judging by that game of dodgeball you were playing yesterday.”

“Well yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You shudder at the thought of almost being stuck as Big Tim’s partner. It’s thanks to Jungkook that you escaped that fate. 

“Why do you hang out with those people anyway?” He spins your chair around to face outward and lays himself down on his bed next to the kitten who just woke up from her nap. She’s cleaning her paws like a good girl.

“I know I have a lot of shallow connections, but I figure if I surround myself with enough people, I’ll eventually have to run into someone I genuinely like, right?” You hop out of the chair, sit your ass on the edge of the bed, and convince yourself it’s to play with the kitty. She jumps down right away to catch a fly but you don’t chase after her.

“Found anyone yet?” he asks, gazing up at the ceiling like it’s the night sky. What did you ever do to deserve seeing this handsome boy and his tattoos all laid out on the bed like this? You’d do it a million more times.

“There might be a boy I’m interested in,” you hum.

“I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it?” he laughs. Why is “Jim” the one name this guy knows from your class? “You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”

“Fuck no.” You shimmy your ass closer to him and block his scenic view of the ceiling with your face. Now it’s you he’s gazing up at. You’re free to admire the tempting ring around his soft lip, the glimmering piercing through his brow, and all his beautiful features that have drawn you to him. You look him in the eye and lie because you know he already knows the truth. “Never mind, it’s no one.”

“Really?” All of a sudden, he pulls your body down against the mattress and climbs on top of you. One hand holds your wrists above your head while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in close but stops half a centimeter from your lips. “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were begging to work on this project with me yesterday, fondling my arm as soon as you got here, practically eyefucking me a minute ago,” he pauses as his hand unzips your jeans and presses into the folds between your legs. “And you’re pretty wet for me right now.”

You want to lunge at him and devour his lips to prove how right he is, but your arms are still being held captive. He smirks at your failed attempt to bite him. For now, you have to settle for squeezing your thighs against his hand to get the tiniest bit of stimulation. 

“So if it’s not me, who’s this boy you’re interested in?” he whispers into your ear as you feel his hand slipping out from your pleasure spot. “I won’t continue until I get an answer.”

It’d be kinda badass if you had the willpower to keep your lips sealed for at least a minute, but you give in after 0.3 seconds. You never had a fighting chance anyway. “It’s you, Jungkook.”

He smashes his lips against yours, his tongue practically down your throat when he says, “Good girl.”

The ring around his lower lip is cold to the touch, but you keep going in for more. You love the way he tastes—like sweet alcohol that encourages you to keep indulging in the high. He’s so addicting.

At the same time, he helps you kick off your jeans and slides his whole hand back into your panties. He swirls his fingers around, coating them in your lust before rubbing over your clit. The jolt of pleasure draws a soft moan from your mouth and gets your body nice and hot. Normally, you’d be eager to get your hands back to join in on the fun, but the boy somehow knows exactly how you like being touched and toyed with. Plus, you kinda like the idea of being so helpless beneath him.

Eventually, your panties come off, followed by your shirt and his. You get the perfect view of his full sleeve as well as the big shark tattoo on his ribs. If you weren’t so horny, you’d drop everything to analyze each piece in depth. But right now, all your weak mind can handle is admiring the shark.

As soon as he lets your wrists breathe, you run your fingers along his ribs, tracing the tattoo from head to tail. The lines are so smooth and pretty. He has great taste in art and apex predators. You’ll have to ask him for the artist later so you can get yourself a baby shark at your hip.

“Got any others I should know of?” you ask with two paws ready to tear his black jeans off of him. 

“Just one.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and sucks hard to mark you as his. You can’t wait for Big Tim to see it on Monday. “You’re gonna have to earn it, though.”

You’ll do anything to get his pants off and find that final tattoo. You need to see his bare body in full, and you have an idea of how to earn it.

“Please?” For the hundredth time, you bring out the puppy eyes because that might be his only weakness. His body twitches a tiny bit, but you realize you have to take it up a notch with the dilf angle. “Please, daddy?”

The word not only makes your face hot but also taunts the bulge ready to burst out of his pants. He watches with immense focus as you unbuckle him and free his hard cock from all the fabric standing in its way. 

You assumed you would’ve had to search his skin for that last tattoo, but it’s staring you right in the face. A fat snake slithers along his cock, tempting you to stroke it with its seductive glare. You’d appreciate the design more if not for the fact that snakes eat cute little lizards like salamanders and chameleons, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly hot.

Without thinking, you wrap both of your hands around his length the same way you had with his arm. Jungkook would probably use the term “fondling” again if he wasn’t so entranced by your touch. If he’s like this with just your hands, you wonder how he’d fare with your whole mouth around him.

Just as you lick the drool from the corner of your lips, he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. “If you do good today, I’ll let you have a taste tomorrow, yeah?”

Tomorrow is too long of a wait for a starved babe like yourself, but you nod anyway because you want to be praised again.

“Good girl,” he purrs as he removes the final piece of clothing over your breasts. Then he leans back to get your whole bare body in sight. “Can you show daddy how you want to be touched?”

You start by squeezing your breasts together and working your way down to your core. Your legs spread themselves open and your fingers glide right in. One hand pumps in and out of your hole while the other strokes your clit. You’re so wet you’d think you’d already orgasmed several times if you didn’t know any better.

With shy eyes, you glance up at the boy watching your every move. This is the first time someone has ever dropped everything to watch you touch yourself. You usually just tease your clit a little if the cock inside you isn’t enough, but never once has a boy given you his full attention like this. He might not take any notes in class, but he’s definitely jotting a few things down for the next time it’s his turn to play with you.

Your fingers speed up and your panting gets louder. How long is he going to make you suffer before he takes over? The one thing you need right now is for him to fuck you senseless.

But instead of getting handsy with you, he grabs his cock and forces you to watch—not that you’d look away anyway.

“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he says rather calmly as he jerks off.

You nod as a gasp for more pleasure escapes you.

“Beg for it.”

“Please daddy,” you whimper, giving up the last of your dignity. “I need you inside my tight little pussy.”

“Such a good girl.” He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you. It’s definitely a tight fit, but your body adjusts to him accordingly. You almost lose it when you hear the way he grunts your name. 

As he pounds in and out of you, you feel yourself getting dangerously close. “Jungkook, I’m—”

“Don’t cum yet,” he warns. “Not until I say so.”

You wish you’d known he was the type to torture you for one single release. If you’d known sooner, you would’ve tried to pace yourself. Now you’re stuck on the edge without permission to orgasm. You love it here.

In the meantime, he gives you some more sloppy kisses. His tongue doesn’t have to fight for dominance over your docile one, but he’s certainly not holding back. That, in combination with the forceful thrusting down below, is your definition of the best rough sex.

At some point, the pleasure begins to melt altogether into a foggy haze of feral lust. Your moans have been reduced to a broken record machine, and your poor body is just waiting to hear the word to finally hit its high. You don’t even know how much time has passed.

“You poor thing,” he growls into your mouth. On pure instinct, you tighten around him and feel him tense up. “Do you enjoy it when I tease you like this?”

You nod without thinking too hard about it.

“Think you can go another hour?”

Hell no, but you nod anyway.

“I’m not that mean,” he chuckles as his hands slide up and down your limp legs. “But good to know.”

He quickens the pace to build the pleasure back up with you still so tight around him. Your obnoxious moans and whimpers give porn star vibes. He better let you get your release soon if he doesn’t want any complaints from his neighbors.

“Please, Jungkook, I can’t—” you gasp, biting back the impending wave of pleasure. Your claw marks are etched into his ribs. “Please let me cum.”

Satisfied with your begging, he nods with the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen and gives you the okay. It feels like your whole body breaks into a million pieces of pure pleasure. Your back arches, your walls tighten even more around him, and your chest heaves up and down as you ride the wave out.

Not long after, he pulls out and pumps his fat cock over your breasts until they’re covered in his lust like two glazed donuts. He admires your glossy worn-out body for a good while before tossing you a hand towel to clean up. You feel timid and small all of a sudden. What if there’s nothing left to say after the excitement of sex has come and gone? What if he shrugs you aside like everyone else does once they get what they want from you?

“Did you really call me daddy?” He throws his pants back on and joins you back on the bed. You can tell he’s trying his best to hide a smile, but you see through him. It’s adorable.

“I thought you were into it, no?” Your face is flushed with heat again as you slip back into your outfit.

“It’s cute coming from you, I guess,” he shrugs as if he’s not aware of how weak he is to your baby girl charm. “I was just going with it because you said it first.”

“Well if you don’t like it, I won’t say it next time.” You give him a hmph for extra emphasis.

“I didn’t say that,” he clarifies, almost a little too quickly. You knew it. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Your voice is soft.

“Go for it.”

“Why did you invite me over even though you finished most of the project yourself?” It’s been in the back of your mind all day, although you did shove it away during the sex.

“Well, my little demon cat kept me up all night so I thought I might as well work on it. And you were hard set on coming here, weren’t you?” he says. You nod for him to continue. “But also, I wanted you to know that there’s at least one person in our class who’d save you from that house on fire.”

He’d choose you. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.

“Yeah, but you hate everyone else, so I’m your only option.” Your smartass can’t help but point out the flaw in his statement. If anything, it’s you challenging him one last time.

“Maybe you’re the only option that matters,” he hums to himself as if those words don’t mean a thing. Who knew a grumpy boy could say such soft things? And who knew you’d fall for it? 

If a hundred shallow friendships is what it took to bring you to this moment—this boy on this bed—then you’re glad you took that route. And you’re even happier that that route ends where this new one begins.

[7seas-of-ryy]

New Family

I Need You Part 1

Author’s Note: This is set in the 'I Need You' storyline, starting from when the reader joins the IC! It can be read as a stand alone!!

Summary: A few different moments after Azriel saved you and you moved to the Night Court!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, platonic!IC x Reader

Warnings: none, let me know if I need to add any :)

The Night Court was your new home and you were so appreciative of everything your new friends had done for you.

You had only been with the IC for about a month. After settling in, you offered to start helping out with whatever they needed and Rhys had a job that was perfect for you.

Amren had been working on translating an old text in order to figure out a spell. She thought she had it figured it out but for some reason it wasn't working.

Rhys thought it would be good for you to go over her work and see if you could figure it out, so he brought you into the room where Amren was working.

"Here girl," she spoke handing you the notebook, "not that you'll be much help. This language is older than I am and has been dead for almost as long. If I can't get it, you won't either."

With a nod, you took off to the library to work.

You had only met Amren a few times before this and she wasn't the most welcoming. You were a little intimidated by her but you wanted to make a good impression so you got to work right away.

As you were going through the texts, you noticed something that had been translated incorrectly.

You were so happy to contribute, so you took off to go tell Amren.

"I got it!" You all but shouted entering the room but stopped short once you looked up.

Rhys, Amren, Azriel, Cassian, and Mor stood in the room now, all eyes on you. Rhys smiled kindly at you to help put you at ease.

"You figured something out?" He prompted you

"Oh right! Um this word right here is supposed to be 'in' and not 'on'." You spoke, pointing to the word in the notebook.

"What did you say to me?" Amren asked

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Cassian chuckled, enjoying the show. Az stayed quiet, keeping his eyes on you.

"How about checking to see if she's correct before attacking, hm?" Rhys told her

Amren walked over to you and you handed her the notebook.

"All I'm saying is I have been working on this for months and this girl comes along and thinks she knows better than me? I was taught this language at a young age and if she thinks-" the words died on her lips as she read over the text.

Amren saw her mistake and knew you were right. In order to make the spell work, you had to insert flame inside of the warded box and not on top of it.

"Well?" Rhys drawled with a grin.

"She's correct." Amren spoke bluntly leaving the room.

Cassian began to howl with laughter, "She couldn't figure it out for months and you got it in what? An hour?!"

Rhys chuckled, knowing Amren wasn't truly upset with you. She was just frustrated with herself for not realizing sooner.

A smile grew on Azriel's face, he was impressed with your knowledge. His shadows shot out and wrapped around your legs and moved up your body. It seemed they were impressed with you as well.

---

You have now been living at the Night Court for a couple months and everything was going smoothly. You had already grown close to Rhys, Cassian, and Mor. Amren respected you more after that day and appreciated your help so you often worked with her. Azriel was the only one that you hadn't spoken much to, yet you spent the most amount of time together.

He hung out with you in the library all the time. He would sit and read or do his own work with you, yet you rarely spoke. It was comfortable between you two.

One night everyone in the IC was having dinner together. You always appreciated these nights.

Conversation was flowing and the topic changed to romance. Cassian and Mor were bragging about their most recent flings and Rhys would only say "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell".

Eventually Cassian decided Az needed to add something into the conversation and wouldn't leave him alone.

"Oh come on, THE shadowsinger isn't seeing anyone? Not even sleeping with anyone?!" Cassian asked

Azriel stayed silent, a bored look on his face.

"Yes, please do tell us. I'm actually quite interested in this." Rhys added with a smirk.

You could see Azriel beginning to get uncomfortable and you felt the need to save him.

"No one wants to know about my love life?!" You blurted out hoping they would leave Az alone.

Every one turned to look at you, Rhys and Cassian both had an excited look on their face.

"I'm pretty hopeless actually, a couple days ago a male asked to take me to dinner and I... made a sort of squeaking sound and ran away." you told the group, hoping your embarrassment would preoccupy the males enough to leave the shadowsinger alone.

The truth was, you were beginning to grow a crush on Azriel and no other male peaked your interest. You had never been more content in your life than when you were sitting silently with him as you both worked. But there was absolutely no chance you would tell anyone that.

"You ran away?!" Mor questioned while laughing

Cassian and Rhys started laughing, making light hearted jokes at your expense and you just laughed along, your face turning red.

You could feel the spymaster's eyes on you and and while everyone else was busy laughing at your unfortunate situation, you glanced over at him. He gave you a small smile and a nod, grateful you saved him. You felt the coolness from his shadows wrap around your torso and they spent the rest of the night with you.

---

After a couple years of living with the Night Court, you were so glad Az had saved you and brought you here. You don't know what you would have done without everyone. You had decided to get a gift for each of your friends, to show your gratitude.

You asked all of them to come to the sitting area so you could hand them out. You had bought Mor a stunning red dress. You got Amren the most luxurious necklace you could find and for Rhys, Cas, and Az you had gotten them brand new leathers.

They all thanked you and continued to examine the pieces you had given to them, admiring the details put in.

"There is more to this gift. I learned a special ward and used it on all of these clothes. It is a protection ward. When you wear these, it will be like you have a shield on and you won't have to put as much of your own effort into shielding yourself." You explained to the group

"You are amazing!" Cass shouted and pulled you into a hug, lifting you so your feet were no longer on the ground. He gave you a big kiss on your cheek.

"Thank you so much, it is truly a gorgeous dress." Mor told you as she gave you a gentle but firm hug.

"You are beginning to be one of my favorites" Amren stated and gave you a nod

"This is so very thoughtful, thank you for this and everything you do for the Night Court. Your work has helped us so much already." Rhy spoke and gave you a hug and a big smile

One after the other, they all left to go try on their gifts and continue examining them until it was only you and Azriel in the room.

"You are brilliant." He softly spoke

"Thank you," you blushed, "I actually have one more gift for you. I just didn't want to give it to you in front of them because Cassian would complain he only got one."

You both laughed and you grabbed the gift and handed it to him.

It was a dagger with what appeared to be shadows engraved into the handle. He looked at you in awe.

"I have grown really fond of your shadows and I just thought you would like it..." your voice getting more shy with every word.

Azriel didn't speak but instead pulled you in for a tight hug. He rested his head in your neck and you could swear you felt a tear fall on you.

He sniffled and spoke, "Thank you, for this and for everything. You have cared for me in a way no one else has and it means more than you will ever know."

You felt your own eyes start to water at his words and you pulled him into you even tighter.

"I will always be here for you, no matter what." you told him

After a few moments, you both pulled away and smiled at each other. It was such a beautiful moment between the two of you until-

"This ward you created...could you put it on my underwear in case I want to walk around the house in only that??" Cass asked as he reentered the room.

Both your and Azriel's faces scrunched up in disgust.

"I am not warding your underwear" you told Cassian

"What is wrong with you?" Az asked him

The three of you laughed and despite the horrible thought in your mind of Cassian's underwear, you felt at peace.

You had found your new home and loved your new family.

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[mybworlds]

Fathoms below

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Warnings: use of you, you’re a mermaid, I won't give any details except for nice long legs and very long hair, nudity, violence (a little?), use of both pov. If I missed smt please let me know.

Summary: Marcus Acacius is a fighter and a conqueror, he's returning to Rome when a mysterious girl saves him from a shipwreck.

Masterlist

A/N New story, new (?) characters, I hope you like it as much as I do and if you don't like it, please be merciful. Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️ Have you seen Gladiator II? What do you think? I'm quite disappointed, if you want we can talk about it in a separate post.

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Taglist @harriedandharassed; @orcasoul; @blazeflays; @ijustlovemensm; @duck-duck-goose2

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

His whole life has been on a battlefield. His skin is now dark from all the dust soaked in sweat and spilled blood, his skin burned under the scorching sun. His hair a mass perpetually disheveled by the wind, by the many battles won over the years.

Marcus Acacius is the general of the Roman army, the most intelligent, the most ruthless. His hands are now a perpetual red, too many lives had been taken by his sword, no matter how many baths he takes and the considerable amount of perfumes and oils used, the battle is a part of him.

The battles faced in Numidia and Egypt had contributed to the extension of the glory and power of Rome. Acacius, after his last victory, is ordered to return to Rome where he would be celebrated and would have the great honor of becoming one of the most important men in Rome.

What the emperors order, the general performs. No matter how brutal or inhumane it is, he obeys. He doesn't always love what he does, sometimes it is senseless. But in Rome he could never say no, no one can.

Once, at the end of one of his many military campaigns, Acacius is on the coast of Sicily with his men — the province of Sicily was the first to be created and an important land of meetings and trade for the glory of Rome. He has just finished yet another campaign and cannot help but think of how many men have been killed at the whim of two mad emperors.

Acacius only follows orders, but he can't take it anymore. He fights, he kills, sometimes he takes prisoners if that's what he's ordered to do, sometimes not. He doesn't care about glory or having statues dedicated to him, he just wants some peace for himself and his life. He’d like to live peacefully at least for a while, “General!” one of his subordinates calls him back to reality “We are ready for interrogation.” he sighs before joining his men.

That day, the General has to interrogate one of the prisoners to find out if they’re plotting against the empire, the man's face is desperate. Acacius, even if he doesn't fully understand their language, can clearly see the fear in the man's eyes. He speaks and asks what they are organizing against Rome, but the only words are "mercy, I know nothing", he looks at him and the more he looks at him the more he feels disgusted by all this. At yet another futile attempt to learn something from him, his subordinate kills him.

Acacius looks at him shocked and completely incredulous, “He wouldn't have said anything anyway.” the other justifies his action.

He’s about to reply when a noise catches his attention and then two frightened eyes catch him, then he sees you fleeing. Your gait is awkward almost as if you’re in some kind of pain.

Without raising the alarm of an intruder in the camp, he walks away from the scene of the murder and starts following you into the woods with his trusty dagger still in his hand. He knows, in fact, that you could be a bait and that you could be used to lure him away from his men.

“Stop.” he shouts at you “Don’t run away!” he adds.

You stop and look at him, your gaze still terrified as if you’ve a monster before you. Marcus Acacius has long seen himself as a dog faithful to his masters, always ready to obey no matter what, even if his actions were monstrous enough to make him feel like a monster.

He looks around for the presence of other men who were lurking around there ready to attack him, but the nature around them doesn’t suggest the presence of other people except them.

Your gaze is still terrified, however you don’t stop looking into Acacius' eyes, feeling as if he’s being scrutinized in the depths of his tormented soul.

Then a completely unexpected gesture, you touch his face. Your skin is cold as sea water, “You’re freezing, are you okay?” he asks you, jumping at the unexpected cold on that hot summer day.

You look at him confused, “Where are you from?” he asks you curiously.

But your look is confused, “You don't understand me, do you? ¿De dónde es? Waar kom jy vandaan?” Acacius tries to establish contact with you, but with the result that you shake your head and look at him, both surprised and curious at the same time.

He puts away his dagger and raises his hands in surrender, “Sorry, if I scared you,” he tells you.

Oh, if his subordinates had heard that, they would have called him a wimp!

There’s something about you, something terribly beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Your beauty is unmatched and yet the General had met all sorts of women, but none as beautiful as you are.

Then, you both look at each other for a long, silent look before you start caressing his face with both hands, who knows if you want to tell him something and he doesn’t understand what you want to tell him!

Acacius finds himself closing his eyes in a moment of total abandon, something he had never allowed himself to do before. Because of his role, he could never let his guard down, he always have to be vigilant and wary, but at that moment he doesn’t even know why he feels so captivated by you, a mysterious girl.

Your touch is so gentle it almost sends shivers down his spine and for a moment he feels like he's in the right place at the right time where no war or duty calls him back to his place, he feels an absolute peace even if it lasts until you move your hands away and he opens his eyes again.

Your eyes are a mixture of confusion, fear, curiosity and beauty. Acacius wants to do the same thing you did with him, but then he thinks that maybe you would have been afraid and you would have run away.

“What’s your name?” he asks again, hoping that your name comes out of your lips, the name of a girl who seems to have hypnotized him.

You look at him again, opening your lips slightly as if to speak to him, but no sound comes out of your mouth.

Are you mute?

His expression softens and a faint smile curves his lips. You imitate his expression, “I have to go now.” he tells you slowly in the hope that you could understand and taking a step back.

Oh, how much he’d have given to stay and not have to return to Rome, he knows what awaits him!

You too move away from him, lowering your gaze for a moment and then looking up again.

After a last silent glance, everyone goes their own way. Who knows if you live there!

The next day, Marcus, much to his embarrassment, was gifted a new marble statue as a result of his latest conquest for the Empire. It’s beautiful and the sculptor seems to know him very well since he managed to depict in detail every single wrinkle and war scar. He thanks the man, but deep down he doesn't feel comfortable taking that gift with him, but he can't refuse it either as it would mean offending the sculptor.

A few weeks later, he's on the ship headed to Rome. Acacius had thought about you several times, but without finding you, and yet there aren’t many villages in the surrounding area and he finds himself very disappointed at not being able to at least say goodbye to you before returning to his home. The General is near the bow of the ship, reading important documents in which his last enterprise is documented, when there’s a strange splashing sound that takes his focus off from the papyrus. Marcus looks up from his papers and walks over to the railing. Nothing special except some ripples and probably a few dolphins here and there.

The Sun dips into the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, when the man goes to sleep. Despite his tiredness, he can't sleep because on the one hand he’s happy to return home and live his city again, but on the other he knows that with this his latest victory, the emperors will force him to marry some domina. And Marcus knows that, although he's a man and enjoys certain freedoms, in the end he will have to give in and marry so as to contribute to the birth of other powerful men who will contribute to the glory of Rome.

The man must have fallen asleep because suddenly he feels a jolt to the ship, he gets up with difficulty staggering from one side to the other. The sea is definitely stormy. When he leaves his quarters, his men are screaming for mercy from the god Neptune. The waves reach the deck, wetting everything and everyone, and the ship rocks more and more violently.

“General, we’re lost!” someone shouts “We’re still too far from Rome and we can’t even go back! This will be our tomb.”

Although he wants to encourage his men, the situation is truly desperate. The waves are crashing onto the deck with great violence, wetting everyone, and the sky is torn by flashes of lightning. Then, everything changes for the worse in a few moments, a lightning struck the mainmast which breaks and catch fire. Some men throw themselves into the sea in desperation, others remain clinging everywhere could. General Acacius is hit in the head by bow mast and ends up in the water.

The man doesn’t even know how he doesn’t faint after receiving that strong blow to the head and tries to surface despite the high waves, but his clothes and the fury of the sea don’t help him at all. He begins to drink saltwater and drown in the depths of the sea, when something seems to grab him and drag him away. The man faints.

When Marcus regains consciousness, he feels the gravel and the sand of the coast beneath him. He opens his eyes, barely raising his head, he feels overwhelmed and confused, when he sees a girl — that same girl, you — next to him, he's about to say something, but you place a finger on his lips, your skin is soft and cold as he remembered it, you look at him with a pleading and worried look, you smile at him as if you are happy to know he’s safe and after looking into his eyes again as if to make sure he's okay, Marcus watches you go away and disappear into the waves. A few moments later a fishtail appears where you disappeared.

It can't be!

No one can understand how much you love the world above the surface, the sun, the wind, you love every sound that comes from it.

You are a mermaid, but you want so much to live up there.

You are looking out more and more often, running the risk of being seen by humans. According to your father, they are the worst creatures in the world, always hostile and destructive to each other and to you. But not according to your aunt, Mira, she loves humans and in fact she encourages you to go up and explore the terrestrial world.

When you were still a baby, you went up to the surface with her. It was your first time and you loved every moment, at least until a galley almost saw you and this led to a furious argument between the two brothers which then led to Mira exile.

From that day on, your father prevented you not only from seeing her, but also from imitating her. You should never have come to the surface again.

You obeyed, at least until the renewed curiosity towards the surface and humans came back forcefully to make its way inside you and since then you’ve started secretly collecting everything related to the human world, they are so beautiful, they do so many wonderful things and they write so much. One day you’ll learn to read in their language, maybe you can ask your aunt Mira for help, she knows a lot of things.

You mostly come up to the surface in the evening or at night, this is because it's the safest moment not only because your father isn't around, but also because you are less likely to be seen by humans.

And that evening is no exception even though there is a strong wind and the currents are quite strong even down there in your world. It's one of those days, that humans call summer, the first time you see him.

In the evening you like to watch what your aunt explained to you is called Moon reflected in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The water becomes so bright on the surface that creates a strange play of light. That summer evening, you surface cautiously and very carefully, looking left and right, you come out of the water. Your beautiful fish tail gradually disappears as you surface and is replaced by nice long legs.

Your aunt had explained to you that this magic happens for you mermaids. You can go up to the surface, but you can't stay there for long. Magic always comes with a price, she told you. In fact, if it was possible to have legs, then you would also feel great pain in having them.

Effectively, your legs always hurt a little and it's not always pleasant to walk on them, but walking on the ground makes up for that pain. You immediately notice a small group of men at a certain distance, they seem to be soldiers from the way they are dressed. Your aunt Mira told you everything about them, even though she always warned you not to get close to them because it's too dangerous. Watch them from afar, but never get close to them, these were your aunt's words. But you want to touch them, see them, talk to them. It can't be that they are just murderers like your daddy says.

Your father told you that humans are always fighting among themselves, always ready to kill each other, to hurt each other, to prevail over each other and he once told you about a large group of humans wandering around from one corner of the sea to the other who does nothing but crave power and claim their dominion over that territory. Mira told you that when they don't live in their beautiful houses, they move from one place to another and use tents to sleep and several tents together form a camp.

Oh, it must be wonderful to move on ships or living in beautiful houses like the ones you've seen in the books you keep in a little nook away from everything and everyone!

You see many tents in the distance, so you know that further ahead there are many humans around. You look around you cautiously, close your eyes and strain your ears: there are some who speak of something and others who say something else, someone silence someone else and others are making strange thudding noises.

You open your eyes and step out of the water completely. After a few steps you turn toward the sea and see your home from the human perspective: a mass of dark water tossed by the wind. You turn around and look for something to cover yourself, you are completely naked and you aren’t sure if humans go around like that.

After getting dressed, you move silently and approach those voices that are gradually becoming louder and louder.

Then, you see him: a man with a grim and sharp look, his eyes are dark and he looks at the man at his feet with a serious expression. The kneeling man is shaking and says something you don’t understand, but the man in front of him continue to stare at him coldly, then someone behind the man with the cold gaze, approaches with something in his hands that has every appearance of being something dangerous. In a few seconds something happens that you never thought you'd see: the third man with that stuff in his hands, quickly approaches the kneeling man and hit him with that same item he has in his hands. The man falls on his side almost screaming, you open your eyes wide, amazed and scared at the same time by the speed of the gesture and by that dull scream emitted by the man on the ground who doesn’t move anymore.

You look at the cold-eyed man and the third man, the first one has an annoyed tone of voice towards the other one who in turn answers with great speed. Who knows what they are saying to each other!

Then, you look back at the man on the ground and only then you notice what what appears to be blood. You’ve seen enough, it's time to go back. But as you step back, you step on something that catch the eye of the cold-looking man who turns his head in your direction. Your eyes meet for the first time and you feel a strange sensation that make you run away quickly in the same direction you’ve taken to reach that field.

You can't run as your legs still hurt too much. A burning disappointment spread in your chest, maybe your father is right about humans and your aunt is wrong. You’ve almost reached the beach, when you hear the same voice behind you. His voice isn’t cold this time, he seems surprised. You don’t understand what he's telling you, it's the first time you hear a human speak. It's a strange language theirs, but for some reason, even though you don’t understand anything he's saying, you turn around towards him and his dark eyes almost freeze you in place as if he has cast a spell on you.

His voice don’t seem to be threatening at that moment, yet you see and hear how he addressed the others, who is the man in front of you? You press yourself against a tree behind you with a frightened look. You see him put away what he has in his hands and lift them up as if to reassure you, he speaks to you, his tone of voice is calm. It gives you the shivers. He starts to come towards you, approaching with a slow pace, you want to run away, but your legs don’t seem to respond to your desire to escape.

He's telling you something, his voice is warm and peaceful. Beautiful, almost musical. It reminds you of the echo that seashells produce on windy days. It's a nice sound, but it makes you shiver. He's now one step away from you, his eyes are so dark. His stained face has a strange color, his skin color is so unique.

You find yourself reaching out to his face, his first reaction is to pull away and you pull your hand away in fear of his response. Then, he seems to relax and you stretch out your hand again.

His skin is a little damaged and warm to the touch, tingling where his beard is, you graze the outline of his lips and face with your fingertips, then follow the line of a scar under his eye as if to memorize every detail of him. Humans are so beautiful, so fascinating. You want to tell him he's beautiful, but you don’t know how.

Then, something inexplicable happens: by touching him you can feel and see what he saw, he really saw so much. How much blood he shed and how many people he saw, how many he argued with, talked with, you can even sense his deep torment, you feel even more curious about him now!

You look him straight in the eyes for a long time and he looks back at you in silence. For a moment the air seems to hang between you two, then you wake up from that spell and withdrew your hands.

He speaks to you so sweetly that you almost have trouble associating him with that man with the cold, authoritative look from earlier and the bloody memories you somehow saw. His eyes have a hint of sadness that contradicts his fury in battle.

Maybe he’s not happy doing what he does!

You'd like to tell him that he's beautiful and at the same time how beautiful and complicated human nature is, but you don't know how to tell him. You wish you could talk to him, understand him.

Then, he talks to you again, walking away from you and you realize he's leaving. You didn't want him to leave, but you can't force him and then now more than ever you want to know everything about humans, their culture, how they live, but above all you want to know what he will do, where he will go.

You do the same thing without ever leaving those dark eyes that in the light seem to be the color of the sandy bottoms of your home.

When you are sure he’s gone, you slowly reach the shoreline. You turn in the direction you came from and think back to that human, Marcus Acacius. You were very struck by how he hides his torment behind that almost cold and authoritarian mask. He’s such a fascinating creature.

You smile as you think back to what the human — Marcus — has seen and done, oh how you wish you could see some of the many things he sees, experience them with him. It would be incredibly fascinating.

You stay there for a while, then when the wind ripples the surface of the sea, you understand it's time to go. You place the soles of your feet in the water and at that moment a sensation of trembling mixed with cold spreads inside you, a sharp, painful sensation jolts you and runs through your legs, then gives way to an almost giving way feeling in your legs. You end up falling forward and at that moment you no longer feel your nice long legs, but your tail again. You drag yourself through the water until your tail is completely submerged and you can dive back into the depths of the sea.

Oh, you want to talk to your aunt Mira, you want to ask her if she knows of a way to get you to stay on the surface longer.

In the days that follow, you often return to the surface, barely peeking out of the water just to see him, you often see him on the beach, sometimes you see him sharpening what you’ve learned to be a dagger, you see him take off his armor and remain on more than one occasion with only a gray tunic and thoughtfully observe the horizon. He looks sad, thoughtful. You wish you could see again what is bothering him so much, you wish you could help him.

You still haven't found the courage to go to your aunt and ask for what's closest to your heart: to become part of his world. You hope your aunt can help you, she knows a lot of things.

Every day now when the sun goes down, you come up to the surface just to see him. One day you see him sitting on a rock a few meters from the shore, you hide because you don't know how to explain to him of your fishtail, he probably wouldn't understand. You see him wearing a wet shirt completely adhered to his body, he’s all intent on washing his hands and arms, they are dirty with what appears to be mud. His hair is wet and his curls are matted and dripping with water, one curl falls untidily on his forehead. His features in the light of the sunset seem to be even more masculine and incredibly beautiful.

You reach out a hand towards his face even if from afar as if you wanted to caress him and at that moment a light wind rises and the man's hair is as if shaken by a tender breeze that leads him to look up towards the horizon and you to hide behind a rocky ridge.

Oh, Marcus..

“I'll find you,” you hear him whisper. It’s one of the first sentences you understand in the human language. In fact, in these days listening to them you have learned a lot and now you are starting to understand something too. You hope he's talking about you, though of course you're not sure.

Days go by and coming to the surface and being with him, even if at a considerable distance, has become a nice habit. You don't even care if your father sees you or not, you go to him. Unfortunately, a galley appears near the coast of the island and you understand that they have come to take the man away from there. Who knows where they're going... maybe if you followed them a little...

You don't regret following him, even if you go really far away from your home, but you don't care at all. You follow the ship at a distance fearing that someone might see you. You’ve been following him for almost three days and you often see him there on the deck. He often stands there staring at the horizon with a thoughtful expression, who knows what he's thinking about.

One day the sky is almost as black as the night sky, the clouds are so dark that they scare you and you are so afraid for him. The wind is so strong and the waves are getting so high that even swimming is difficult for you.

Then, everything changes in an instant. A bolt of lightning strikes the trunk of the ship, which breaks in two and hits Marcus who was not too far from the rail and falls overboard. You rush towards it, the water is so dark that for a moment you can't see anything.

A few moments later a noise reverberates in the sea waters and you see the ship sinking, it’s a disturbing sight. You move with difficulty through the waves, you see many objects that were surely on board end up down, then you see him.

You see him unconscious, whirling in the waves and ending up under. You swim as fast as you can and reach him, grabbing him and making him resurface.

“I’ll save you, don’t be afraid.” You tell him reassuringly, he opens his eyes for a moment and then closes them immediately and abandons himself on you.

You can't quantify the time that passes until you reach dry land. Without thinking that anyone might see the scene, you drag Marcus, still unconscious, to the shore.

You start to feel pain in your fish tail which is a sign that your tail has started to change and turning into legs, but it doesn’t matter now. You drag Marcus until he's almost completely out of the water, his hair is wet and full of sand and gravel, “Please, open your eyes,” you beg him, moving a wet curl that fell on his wet forehead. You look at him and notice his torn robe on his arm, there's a bloody cut and you immediately peel a scale off your tail to heal him.

“You are beautiful, Marcus,” you murmur, looking with a rapt air at his face, so beautiful that it reminds you of the one depicted in a book you have at the bottom of the sea. You caress his face, his burning lips, but this time you can't see anything, perhaps because he is unconscious. You put your head on his chest and you feel him breathing fortunately. Only now you give yourself a moment to relax and smile happily that he’s safe.

A few moments later when he starts to wake up, you lift your head from his chest and at that moment he opens his eyes. He has beautiful eyes, you can't help but smile at him, you murmur "You’ll be fine now, you’re safe.” You quickly let go of him when you hear a chatter approaching.

You leave him so quickly that you don't think he could have seen who you really are.When you are far enough away, you turn around and see him surrounded by a small group of people who have reached him and helped him, "Now you are safe." you repeat to yourself, casting one last glance towards him who never stops looking towards the sea.

You smile one last time before diving back in the bottomless blue of the sea and reaching your home again, but with the promise that you’ll soon return and see him again.

[whatbigotspost]

I’m gonna start coining tumblr specific cognitive biases and logical fallacy terms…here’s the first ones I’ve theorized so far. (I’m using “actor” here meaning “the person, acting out the fallacy or bias for us all to see.”)

1. The unique contribution fallacy—reading a post of over 10k notes and the actor thinks of something they surmise is very clever to add. The actor imagines themselves to be the first special unique soul to contribute this add, when OP has actually received this “clever” comment 5000 times of those 10,000 notes driving OP up the wall.

2. The whataboutism bias— reading a post on any given particular topic, and believing that OP should say every single thing that you could possibly say about that topic under said single post. The actor doesn’t know they have a personal agenda on the topic and expects OP would have that same bias to talk about the side of the given topic that correlates to the actor’s personal bias, instead of allowing OP to be somebody who just writes what they wanted to write. This often works in tandem with… 

3. The TLDR bias— seeing a post that is actually extremely long and thoroughly well written, often times with sources, numerous added threads of detail etc. but the actor doesn’t actually read the content of the FULL post. Then, in reblogging it or commenting on it, “adding” something that OP definitely originally said, and revealing oneself as somebody who doesn’t even read the detailed things that they re-blog or add on comments about.

3. The literal URL fallacy— not understanding the total chaos that is the Tumblr URL, in this fallacy the actor thinks that someone’s username is ALWAYS telling you exactly what the content of their blog might be. I’ll illustrate this one in like a totally random example way… Let’s say that you hypothetically made a blog that was all about calling out bigots back in the days of yore, the early twenty teens. And yet somehow, despite the fact that every other user around you seems to not be taken literally by their URLs, the actor decides that everything that you post is therefore bigotry…….even if what you’re posting is your own original content that you’re writing, calling out bigots. Too bad, so sad! Because in this fallacy, the actor is going to see you as what your URL says, literally, always.

4. The missed URL fallacy— this of course is the exact opposite of number three. It is where a blog has a very particular theme and format to it, that is the most important thing you can notice to understand the context of a post. So, again, just a random example here… But let’s just say that the intent of a blog is to always post submitted weird ass dreams people had, but the actor doesn’t realize this in their relogging and thinks that somebody is reporting a real life situation that was definitely, very specifically a wild fever dream.

5. The throw the baby out with the bathwater bias— a fan favorite among left leaning and social justice corners of the site, this bias is when the actor reads a post where somebody doesn’t use the most optimal, virtue signaling language for them personally, so the actor ignores the whole entire point of the post. It could be something as serious as and attention demanding as genocide, but somebody uses a word like “crazy” or “stupid” or “bitch” in it and so the actor’s worldview and general proclaimed values are casually tossed aside because the language that was used to deliver it was not “perfect.”

6. The choose your own reality bias—The actor reads a post and reblogs it, adding commentary that is responding to things that are definitely not said in the original post and definitely not anything in the realm of what OP was talking about. Close cousin to…

7. The this is definitely about me/self-own fallacy— this one is actually one of my favorites to spot out in the wild because it is SUCH a tell. It is like a slightly more specific version of the “choose your own reality bias” but this is when the actor reads a post and blogs it, adding commentary that is responding to things that are definitely not said in the original post as if OP is talking about them personally, and therefore revealing themselves as potentially shady or suspect in someway because why did they make it about them, if it’s not about them, you know?

8. The zombie post fallacy—in this one, the actor most likely does not have time stamps enabled on their dash because that isn’t something that happens here by default, and this site has a higher presence of zombie posts (by the way its designed and how it functions) than any other social media site I know. So when a zombie post from 2011 shambles across their dash in 2024, they react to that content as if it is completely new and relevant information or news or a situation to be dealt with in the modern era.

What needs added?

[ganondoodle]

totk is like a highly polished alpha build of a game to me

graphic- fantastic, i just love botws style of graphics, its the perfect blend of something more realistic but very stylized and timeless

visual design- great, i cant stand anything sonau (zonai), and ganondorfs concept art is better than final (and still involves lots of annyoing stereotypes) but overall still pretty solid

sound design- phenomenal, it really is, the underground, the rain on the parasail? unmatched, already loved botw but they really outdid themselves here

music- possibly best in the series to me, like ... theres so many fantastic tracks, in isolation i love so many of them so much ... which sucks bc being connected to such a lackluster rest sours them badly

mechanics- working but undercooked/unfit for the world, its impressive they got ultrahand working at all, but its still clunky/quickly frustrating and badly balanced also contributes to utterly destroying botws world design- this ability was simply not made for this world and is in the end both detrimental to it and itself, bc that mechanic could have truly shined in a game REALLY build around it (... if they could manage to balance it well and stop handing you the solution, it would be funyn if it werent so sad how many times the game literally doesnt even make you engage with its main gimmick bc it just hands you the prebuild thing) time reversal breaks every puzzle/challenge, also unbalanced, ceiling jump is the most harmless but i still think it lets you skip too much

writing- worst in the series, where would i even start with that, not a single character is written well/interestingly, most detrimentally the main characters, .. like all of them, zelda, ganondorf, rauru... and the "story", its barely even bare bones, its plain cardboard with an old divine right propaganda slogan written on, continuity in a direct sequel is non existant, there is no follow up on anything, why did they call it that when they dont seem to have any love for anything botw did given how much they trample over everything it established, i struggle to believe they actually thought this was good, theres has to have been trouble during development

world design/changes- a joke, ... i dont know how people dont feel scammed by how little was actually changed, no, a few rocks sprinkled througout are not meaningful changes, i was one of the people not worried about them reusing the world bc i loved this world and was sure theyd meaningfully change it- god how wrong i was; the sky and underground are both like the bare bones with textures and placeholder rewards/points of interest, they both do not matter at all and their potential is yet again utterly, painfully, wasted and only add more points of destruction to the map in case of the sky, and both add confusion about everything, not the good kind of intriguing confusion, the bad nothing makes sense confusion it really does seem like they put some quick changes into every main point of interest where most players would go to make them think they changed things when .. they only changed these parts, barely, either bc they knew everyone would skip around the world anyway so it wouldnt be worth it, or bc its ... unfinished

game design/structure- baffling (bad), connected to the point above, but it truly is beyond me why they repeated the exact same structure as botw while removing what made that work, why would you repeat every point of interest of the previous game, i know zelda games always have their regions and thats where stuff happens, but they REUSED THE SAME WORLD, you CANNOT repeat the exact same points in the same world, you just cant, its the same places, the same characters, the same structure (aka dungeons being less interesting/easier titans (divine beasts) with a paint job in structure), you basically erase the well integrated ancient tech civilization to replace it with another, not well integrated, more boring and overly pushed into your face, ancient tech civilization and make them the answer to everything that ever was (BORING), the same story structure (but worse, like the memory system but remove what made it work in botw)- AND THEN repeat the same points in the underground too? thats bonkers, literally baby bananas

dungeons/puzzles - worse than botw by FAR, as mentioned above, dungeons are less interesting titans with a paintjob (plus an extraordinarily awful cutscene, which is repeated like FIVE TIMES almost word for word), they serve no purpose but to act like they are totally real traditional dungeons when they are not, they are laughing at you, shrines are back with a paintjob with less interesting puzzles (if they even have one given how many just give you a spirit orb knock off) that can all be skipped, though the puzzles can often not even be called that (put log over gap WOOOAH puzzle) among many awful and unecessary tutorial ones (its not bad to have easy ones, but aside from the few ones that take all your stuff away -omg restrictions in MY freedom tm game??- which are the best ones, to have none be even a little challenging or not utterly skippable without even using glitches, its like they didnt even try to stop you from cheating, which is like being given a skip button with no strigns attached, doesnt even let you feel smart bc you dont have to try to cheat)

UI/controls- awful, you cant tell me this was tested by real people playing for longer than 10 minutes at once, how did the ghosty sage control scheme and arrow/weapon fusing get through this, HOW, its unbelievably tedious and detrimental to any fun (as im doing with my rewrite, a crafting system would have been so good here ..... like a proper simple crafting system, have the materials, craft your new arrow types in stacks etc) the ghost sages are not only utterly useless in combat, but clog your screen, play distracting animations as soon as you look at a slope, you constantly accidentally activate them or the wrong one bc its mapped to the main interact button!!! if you use them say goodbye to your framerate, fights are now spent chasing after some ghost guy whos actively running away from you, they do not invoke a feeling of 'connection' to my 'friends', they are invoking feelings of hatred and frustration

performance- ... passable (if you dont have the sages out .... well, it runs better than pokemon scarlet so i guess its fine, the lag when closing and opening the menu is rly annoying, especially combined with the finger and patience breaking menues and how often you need to open a game pasuing menue, but fights with a monster horde AND the sages out? yeah no its as bad as pokemon scarlet at its worst, not to mention the chaos of having five useless ghost scramble around you getting knocked around by enemies)

price- a scam, this game is not worth 70 bucks, its just not, if you get a used copy and dont spend more time in it than it takes for you to just go straight to the main points, or if you dont care about anything else but dicking around with a clunky building system ... then you can have some fun with it yeah ..... still not worth 70 money, theres probably better building games out there for less too

it jsut feels not done, not finished, its presentation and some parts are highly polished and their marketing for it is unlike anything i have ever seen, but its so .... unfinished, no amount of epic visuals is gonna let me not think of this game being half done at best, after what, 6 years of development no less? with most assets already being there and being reused unaltered??

(i am holding tightly onto the theory of it either having an extremely troubled development that is being hidden bc of their reputation, or some sort of neglect in order to focus on other more lucrative projects, this is just all too weird to me)

[eatommo]

Kisses of Fire [j.m.]

Summary: You and Joel get caught up in a champagne-filled domestic dream, and your impulses are too strong to resist. Aka, you and Joel sing and dance in the kitchen until you can't deny your feelings any longer.

C.w: slight dub con because of alcohol consumption, mentions of parental loss, age gap (reader is in her 20s), unprotected pinv, lots of praise, pet names, Joel is a sweet talker, fluffy dancing and cooking with Joel, size kink?, creampie, squirting, oral sex (f receive), mentions of oral sex (m receive), breeding kink if you squint, mutual pining?, idk I probably missed some let me know!

A/n: Hello! I am alive! I started a new job and it's been pretty crazy but I am pleased to bring you my first Joel Miller fic and my first contribution to the Dbf!joel subgenre that has been one my favorites lately. enjoy!

~3.5k

“Joel, the sauce is going to burn.” you stumble through a laugh, trying to focus the little clarity of your mind on the chicken browning in your ceramic pan. He had insisted on opening a glass of champagne to congratulate you on your new job. It was sweet and dry, exactly what you liked, and it went down easy.

You were sitting around the coffee table gushing and hardly letting the man get a word out, and then he asked if you were hungry, and well you hadn't yet eaten and with your stomach growling at his words, he was very insistent.

In truth, you'd always looked out for each other, you'd help pick up Sarah from school, on occasion try new recipes in his much larger kitchen, and in turn, he'd fix your sink leak, install a new shower head, or even build you a new coffee table.

Here standing in his kitchen you felt so comfortable, stirring the pasta with one hand and rummaging through his cabinets for oregano with the other. It could've been the alcohol or the decade-long crush on the older man that was driving you wild.

With a rush of melody, you realized where he disappeared as the fun rhythmic beat of Be My Baby echoes through the living room and into the kitchen. Joel's words barely call above the song, “Oldies okay?”

You turn to answer him, only to catch him jamming out to the song behind you as he strides cool as a cucumber back into the kitchen. “More than okay.” You’re beaming, enjoying the music and the laid-back demeanor of his slight dance and groove.

You've cherished the few moments of joy since your father passed away a few years ago, singing with him and Sarah in the car, bullying Joel onto a rollercoaster, and summertime BBQs complete with movie marathons.

This felt different. Not only was Sarah noticeably absent, but there was an electric hum of something between you, it was almost palpable. Chalking it up to the alcohol, you settle back into your rhythm of taking care of the food in front of you with extra sway to your hips and occasionally singing into the wooden spoon like a microphone.

Joel returns to your side, stirring the thick sauce before grabbing a spoon from a drawer and tasting it. He moans around the cheap metal, throwing his head back in exaggerated ecstasy.

Hoping the heat from the stove disguises your blush, you carefully accept a spoonful he offers you after he cools with a few quick purses of his lips, humming in agreement.

“What did you say this recipe was called?” When he's been drinking, his Texan drawl lengthens, and you swallow around the lump in your throat, lord have mercy.

“Marry me chicken? It's said to get a man to marry you on its own…” you try and let your voice trail off as he grabs a colander and begins to strain the noodles for you, and before you can think you add, “I thought it would be good practice.”

You catch something in his face as he looks toward you, now mouthing the words to a song by Simon and Garfunkel, but your brain is a little too fuzzy to dissect it completely. Turning off the heat, you quickly add bacon and parmesan before tossing the chicken and sauce mixture on top of Joel's freshly strained pasta.

He hovers over you like he hasn't eaten for days, grumbling something about sweet torture as you garnish his bowl with freshly grated cheese. Turning your attention to the table you see a second bottle of champagne adorning a small dining set, and your flukes full and awaiting your attention, and your blush returns, what is happening to you?

Dismissing himself to turn the music lower, you set his plate down and settle into your chair beside his. Briefly, you consider refusing another glass, you were supposed to drive home, but his slightly tousled curls and the nonplussed smirk on his face as he walks into your field of vision wash over your body like a cool shower on a hot Austin evening, refreshing, revitalizing, and rewarding you with his simplistic beauty.

The way his eyes fell to yours with each silly verse, speaking to each moment you’ve swooned over him in private and cementing the swell of your heart. He sits and you both immediately dive into the food, moaning in unison at the salty and creamy flavor. “I get it.”

“For sure.” You confirm, shoveling more into your mouth as delicately as you can in your haste. “I’ll keep it in my back pocket for sure.” You both laugh and reach for your champagne for a toast.

“To the luckiest man in the world.” This time, he does a piss poor job of covering his shock, and you don’t dare let the moment slip from your grasp, setting your fork down, and reaching to settle your hand on his forearm, tenderly running your fingers over the rough-tanned skin.

The affection seems to coach a weight from his shoulders, as the tension in them drops and he meets your eyes with a deep and wicked sense of playfulness. Holding his gaze, and touching the lips of the flukes together you smile innocently, and hum as the cool bubbles coat your tongue and lift your confidence higher with every passing moment.

In a flash you feel the energy in the room shift, as silence flirtatious eye contact is shared between smaller sips of champagne and groans of delight, you find your eyes lingering longer on the base of his throat and the purse of his lips around the tip of the glass.

In your stupor you miss his devilish grin, he’s chasing the feeling of your gaze on his skin, drinking in the slip of your guard, and suddenly the incredible food you prepared for him is not nearly enough to sate him.

It’s his turn to stare, watching as your lips part in a soft pant as he takes a lingering swig from his glass, imagining how delicious this could pair with the taste of your pussy. Fuck, he’s so hopeless, you could talk him into anything, yet you sit and torture yourself undressing him with your eyes and practically projecting your dirty thoughts onto his chest.

When your eyes meet again your breath catches in your throat, some snarky comment you bury beneath the burning fire on your cheeks. “Joel…” it’s an invitation, a plea, and your heart stands still in its cage in the breath between your words and his mouth on yours.

His beard and moustache are rough against your lips, but the kiss is hungry, and not nearly as vulnerable as you feel. It's a clash of tongues and teeth, your bodies are drawn together like the world is stitching them together with desperate rough movements.

You can taste the rich sweet champagne on his tongue as it drags over yours, tilting your head back with a soft hand on your throat. Standing to his feet, he breaks the kiss with a reluctance you feel, but he’s ushering the plates off the table in a single trip, setting them on the counter to be dealt with later. The complaint dies in your throat, as you let your brain devour him in a primal sense. The broad expanse of his chest rising and falling in heavy needy breath, the veins in his neck as he tilts his head to return the same hungry stare, you don’t make it past his biceps before his hands are on your sides, directing you to stand but only for a mere second as your practically lifted onto the kitchen table.

His mouth is on yours again, hot and determined, your mind is made up, and he can feel it in each little whine he swallows. Confidence surges through him, bolstered by the hum of alcohol in his system, and he leans over you guiding you to your back, while he slots himself between your legs.

You part them quickly, wanting to feel him pressed against you more than you want to breathe, and rather than following you he kisses down the smooth skin of your calves and begins working on the button of your shorts, yanking them up and off with a dexterity that would surprise you had it been anyone else.

The thin cotton panties are not your first choice of sexy intimates, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as his gaze holds at the growing wet spot pooling in the fabric. His index fingers ghost over the seam of your pussy. “Are you sure?” He kisses the words across your skin, moving along the inside of your thighs as his stubble draws the nerves in your skin taught.

You blink your eyes a few times, almost not believing and basking in the warmth of his breath. Your mouth falls open in a pant as you throw your head back onto the table, in any other circumstance it would've hurt. “Yes…Joel…please.” Each word takes a lungful of air worth of effort.

There's a dark chuckle as if taunting you for being so pathetic, as he nibbles on the skin of your inner thigh, you feel goosebumps spread across all your skin, unaware if it's from shame or the heat of his mouth muttering sweet nothings into your skin.

“So pretty,” he coos letting two fingers trace over your slick panties, “Spread out on my table for me,” he presses harder but slows his movements to a beautifully slow taunt, “A fucking meal.”

The chair moves sharply back with his movement, as he pulls your underwear to the side and licks at your hole for his first taste. His mouth is feverish in appetite, licking and sucking and caressing each part of your sex, the assault is overwhelming at first, the movements so erratic you’re unable to focus on anything but trying to breathe. Cantering your hips against his mouth his rough palm stalls one of your thighs from closing, the hand is firm and warm commanding you to obey in just its presence. “More,” you beg, again the pleasure dulled as he slowed to listen.

His free hand goes to the waistband of your underwear running along its length and tickling the skin, before you feel a rough tug at the fabric and hear the tearing sound before you can even comprehend what’s happened. The fabric disappears and the soft table mat you are perched on protects you from the cool wood of the table. He mumbles more things into the flesh of your mound, and he kisses at the exposed skin of your hips, “Sweet little thing.”

You throw a hand over your eyes, losing yourself to the embraces and brushes of pleasure he showers you in. He settles back between your legs, pinning them to your chest with his arm and working two fingers slowly into your tight heat. The stretch is pleasant, and he lets his tongue lave over the top of your sex. “Joel.” You whimper feeling his knuckles curl inwards brushing against a bundle of nerves that has your vision lulling white. Each stroke feels like it's pulling your soul from your body, and an unfamiliar pressure builds as he coaxes the orgasm to the surface with his tongue swirling over your clit.

You explode, soaking the table and his hungry waiting mouth feeling the clear gush of liquid pool beneath you and coat your thighs. “Oh god, I’m sorry I-” you stammer, not having experienced this yourself before.

Joel’s attention snaps to your eyes, “Don’t.” It's a warning, his eyes dark and muddled with something animalistic you’ve only seen when he’s angry. “You’re going to do it again.” he sits straight, and you realize he’s still fully dressed as he stands on his feet, dwarfing you against the table, undoing the length of his belt.

Unsure if your breathing is coming fast or if he is moving slowly, undoing the buttons of his flannel, and exposing skin that you’ve seen countless times before, but as each button is freed and his shirt spills open, you struggle to keep your breath even. Thick tanned skin, soft to the touch but cords of practical muscle run through his pecks, and down his well-defined biceps hold your eyes still, as your heart clips away steadily. You mumble something about his muscles, fawning over him like you’ve done so many times before, but unafraid to get caught this time.

He peers down at you, maintaining eye contact through your spread thighs as you lay waiting gawking at him like you always have, the loose leather of his belt is tugging the jeans down his hips slightly exposing the soft flesh of his stomach and the feather-light trail of hair disappearing below his jeans. He longed to reduce you to a babbling drooling mess, he wanted to mark your skin his and fill you so full his traces would linger on your cunt for days. Days, he knew it wouldn’t be easy to stop, he felt like he was running downhill and his legs were jelly beneath him, hurtling towards some sort of self-destructive meltdown. But the sweet tang of you lingering in his mouth, splashed across his chest, on his dining room table.

You were perfect, even more so than he thought possible. He ached, the jeans strangling his thick cock, he longed to free himself and sink into you. “Come here.” he stepped closer, back between the welcome squeeze of your thighs, and he wondered if he would need a new table.

You sat up barely even with his chest and when you're close enough he brings you in for a deep and filthy kiss, giving you a chance to taste your slick from his tongue and to groan as your hand settles over the hard length of his cock in his pants. You allow a finger to trace over the outline surprised when your hand keeps finding more of him to play with, fighting the urge to squeak in delight as each kiss grows in fervor.

If Joel hadn't suggested otherwise, you would've happily been fucked to bliss on the table, but as one of his hands falls to cup the supple flesh of your ass you're lifted into his sturdy arms. Now even this isn't a first, but your cunt is pressed flat to the ripped muscles of his abdomen and you can't help but trail feather-like kisses and nips across the thin skin covering his Adam's apple, half tempted to suck a bruise into his skin as he whines lowly into hair.

He traverses the stairs with ease, fingers squeezing and playing with your ass as he does so. As you enter his room, he leans in for another searing desperate kiss, nipping and tugging on your bottom lip almost painfully slow.

The bed is plush, more so than you expect, the sheets feel cool and inviting as you settle into them, not daring to turn your attention away from Joel for a second. The moon is the only light in the room, but it's bright enough for you to drool over the large bulge he reveals as he shucks his jeans.

“Something you want darlin?” that all-knowing chuckle, call your attention to his face, always handsome but there's a depravity and a hunger in his eyes that is a little bit intimidating.

“I-” You struggle to decide what exactly it is you want to do, part of you wants to let him lay down and have you suck his cock dry, and the other part wants to see you bent in half stuffed full of his cum.

Your stumble only brings another dry chastising chuckle, “Don’t worry honey, I'll take care of you.” His dark boxers leave little to the imagination, the fabric pulled tight across him as the curve of his cock is pinned to the curve of his hip. He’s huge, bigger than you could’ve dreamed, and by the looks of it nice and thick, you would be happily limping around in the morning.

He plants his hands next to your legs, crawling up your body until he’s even with your mouth, his skin radiating heat and his mouth meets yours once more. The taste of you is still lingering in his mouth, spurring you on.

The clothed hardness of him presses against you, insistent and delightfully relieving the tortuous pressure building at your core. You run your hands against the muscles of his back, at first gently caressing but as his teeth skim your pulse you dig into the flesh with your nails. “Joel…” you whimper, knowing if he wanted to drag this any further you'd have no choice but to beg, there's something so addictive to his power and the way he looks at you. He knows what he's doing to you, he knows the way you shift your hips to grind against him is a silent plea, he wishes he could withhold longer, but each hitch in your breath coaxes more precome spilling into his boxers, he hasn't been this hard since he was a teenager.

He hushes you, soothing you with a hand running over your hair, and shoves his boxers down to free himself. He lets the weight of his cock slide over your sex, the thick head catching deliciously on your clit and allowing it to get coated in what's left of your cum. You both groan into another kiss, “Condom?” The question shocks you into reality briefly, but you quickly shake your head no, not bothering an attempt to form any words.

You swear you hear a whimper in his half-lidded chuckle, but you try to focus on the feeling of his body pressing against yours, the heat of him and the rich smell of his skin the taste of his mouth as he kisses you through a few more lazy strokes.

He runs a calloused hand over the soft skin of your throat before sliding it around and into the hair at the back of your neck, tilting your eyes to his As he lines up and slides in a single brutal thrust. Your body tenses at the stretch, but the pleasure is immense and Joel's mouth parts in a pant so beautifully you crack a wickedly seductive smile.

As he begins to canter his hips, his grip on your hair gets tighter, holding your eyes to his, his pelvis grinds delectably against your clit, as the ridges of his cock and the angle of his hips drag along your walls. You wonder if you'd been able to take it if it hadn't been Joel, you don't think you've ever been this fucked out in your life. He presses your legs slightly further apart nudging at your cervix, and grounding down.

The orgasm rips through you before you know it, the shake in your legs and your panted obscenities only encourage him further. “Fuck, good girl,” your hips love on their own grinding up fucking yourself through the climax as a second wave of white-hot pleasure soaks his abdomen and your thighs, “So good baby.”

Your head drops, body limp and wrecked he kisses along your cheeks and forehead, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

He moves quicker than you can register what's happening, his boxers are on the floor and suddenly you are straddled over his lap dropping down onto his cock as he buries his face in your tits. Tongue drags deliciously over your nipples as he lets you adjust to the new angle, you rest your head on top of his, kissing his sweat-damp hair and rocking your hips slowly. You didn't think he could feel any bigger, each slight rock nudges almost painfully against your cervix, words no longer forming in your brain and breath escaping in squeaks.

You let yourself get caught up in the moans and praise failing out of Joel nonsensically, the drag of his stubble on your skin overstimulating, you bear down on him and shiver as you hear the hitches in his breathing. “Where?” you almost miss it, his voice is hoarse, desperate, strained even.

“Cum inside me.” you can't suppress the smirk, “I want it.” It's your turn to pull his head back, looking deep into the rich dark brown eyes as they admire you, he chews on his lip. His shoulders hunch as you feel him twitch, his grip tightening on your hips as he uses the last bit of his strength to bounce you on his lap and fuck up into you as he cums deep and hard into your wrecked swollen pussy.

You suppress a shutter, you feel like you're made of gelatin and you slump against his body, going completely slack.

He waits a few moments to collect his wits and allows you both to catch your breath. “Should I start a shower?” You laugh, hoping to skirt over any sort of rebuff.

“Sure,” he massages the flesh of your ass, “I'll take care of the leftovers.” You're overwhelmed with a sense of relief, both letting out a massive sigh at the same time, and laughing once you make eye contact again. You feel his heartbeat against your chest and lean in for another kiss, the complicated stuff can come later, but the smile he gives you as he tilts his chin up slightly for the kiss, makes you feel like it's all going to be more than you could've dreamed of.

Part 2

[imkazz]

mm my lil gen and gyo contribution to our latest episode

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Genya kneeled outside his master's door.

"Himejima-san!" Genya placed his hands gently on his knees, sitting up straight. The door was slightly ajar as Genya peeked inside to see the man's huge back. "I was about to cook dinner, since all the slayers who were training here have left as of today. Did you want anything specific?"

The Stone Hashira sat silently in his room. Genya swallowed. Himejima-san wasn't answering! Had Genya done something to upset him? Was it that he couldn't move the boulder five-chou yet? He was getting there!

"Genya." The hashira's deep voice soothed Genya for only a second. "I will be going out tonight. If you could prepare something for me to bring..."

Phew. Genya hadn't done anything! He nodded. "Of course, Himejima-san!"

Genya could hear a faint "namu-namu" as he shut the shoji door.

The two of them stood right outside the humble Stone Estate. The area around them was surrounded in trees, and the cicadas had started chirping right as the sun was setting. Genya glanced upwards to see some clouds brewing, most likely some snow was coming later that night. He held out the bundle in his hand. "Himejima-san, some onigiri!"

"Thank you, child." Himejima-san accepted the package, which unsurprisingly looked much smaller in his hand then Genya's. "Train your aim with your gun."

With that, the huge man started lumbering off down the path. Genya's eyebrows pinched. Seriously, had he done something to upset Himejima-san? Was something bothering his master? Usually, whenever Himejima-san would tell him to train, he would always add on the little "until I come back". Why hadn't he added it this time?

Gyomei stopped walking. He could practically feel the poor boy's heart beating confusedly, the pulse in Genya's body rising as his thoughts ran wild. Of course, it was understandable. Gyomei could tell that he was acting strangely towards Genya, and that would make the boy nervous.

"Genya," Gyomei turned around, "could you give me a hug?"

It was the first time he'd asked that of Genya. Gyomei had told him to do many vigorous activities to grow stronger, but never something like what he had just asked of. From knowing Genya for the past two years, he never liked receiving anything. Only giving.

Gyomei could hear Genya's footsteps approaching as the teenager wrapped his arms around the huge man. With a smile, Gyomei shed some tears as he started hugging Genya back.

Oh, how he would love to keep the boy in the Stone Estate. Keep him safe, out of danger. In his heart, Gyomei knew that he couldn't do that, and that Genya would never allow himself to do that. He knew that Genya would jump to kill Kibutsuji Muzan, help his brother and avenge their family.

Gyomei tried his best to not squeeze Genya too hard. It was almost like the cuteness aggression he had with cats, but so much worse when it came to Genya. Instead, he opted to hold the teenager firmly in his grasp. As soon as Gyomei felt Genya moving, he let go.

"Himejima-san..." Gyomei felt his heart squeeze as the tenative calling, "is something happening?"

Gyomei tried to collect his thoughts. "Genya. I... suggest that you write some letters to your loved ones."

He could feel Genya's heart skip a beat.

"So... this is it?" Genya said with a final tone.

Gyomei nodded.

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

"Himejima-san... help... Tokitou-san... and... my brother."

[tyraniss]

Some Orm Marius imagines and head cannons that have been jumping around in my head since the new movie came out and I realized this man is amazing! Let me know what you think or add to them as you'd like.

-Orm Marius hated it originally. It was more trash in the oceans. But when you showed him sea glass you spoke of how beautiful it was that one person's trash could be so transformed by the ocean. That together land and sea could create something beautiful. It became a symbol for you both. Of what you could create together.

-Imagine Orms' passion for the Oceans inspires you to take him on a trip to visit an ocean clean up organizations and volunteer for a week. You show him that not every surface dweller disregards the oceans. That you care too, especially because it is important to him. You show hime that there are surface dwellers trying to make a difference. Not all are the same. He appreciates the sentiment and uses his Atlantean abilities to contribute. It becomes a tradition between you two. To visit and volunteer in different places.

-Early on Orm notices a plastic bracelet on your hand and scoffs. Asking if it too will end up in the ocean. You smirk and introduce him to the 4Ocean initiative. An organization that cleans the ocean of trash and makes them into bracelets. The bracelets are then sold to fund the removal of more plastics from the oceans and that is why you wear it with pride. You get him one and he wears it always.

If anyone wants to write these ideas please do. I'm not a great writer but I'd love to see more Orm Marius fiction out there. Might post more later, as things come to me.

[otomes-world]

Interviewing witnesses

In the end, I'm still not sure about the outcome, but I don't want to delete or keep this post in drafts. If the characters don't look like themselves, I apologize. I haven't written dialogue for a long time. Just let me know and I'll add the OOC tag Prologue

Chasing two birds is not your style. Of course, you could have limited yourself to general information, briefly write about everything that was happening. However, your internal professionalism and the desire to do everything right, since you had already get half of payment, did their job. You decided to focus on one rumor and process it as well as you could. After all, the client did not specify what exactly and about whom they wanted to know.

Voluntarily getting involved in matters concerning royal families was like trying on the role of a beast tamer. The same one who stuck head into the open mouth of a lion or a tiger. In this case, a lion or a dragon. Not a very attractive prospect.

So you took the path that promised all the juiciest details, regardless of where the investigation led you. Whose rumor sounded the most interesting of all? Of course, about the head of Octavinelle, a young student from a decent family, consistently ranking high in grades and owning a thriving business on the college campus.

Whose deputy and his twin brother did different jobs.

The Coral Sea had long attracted with its mystery, a culture completely different from others. To contribute and become the discoverer of its secrets sounded too attractive to refuse.

Following the target directly was the last and most reckless thing to do. Of course, this way you could collect more reliable information from the first person, but the risks also increased many times over. There was no point in burning extra candles.

In addition, no one was stopping you from changing direction in case of failure and trying to find out about another rumor. For example, Ashengrotto himself. The secret that lay behind the promise to fulfill any desires was a sure-fire lottery ticket for any journalist. It's a pity that you didn't have your own publishing house. How exactly the customer was going to dispose of the received material was entirely their right. Your work ended exactly at the moment of handing over the treasured envelope.

The investigation began surprisingly standardly. Classic phrases thrown here and there to get a random student to talk didn't give you anything you hadn't heard.

A model student

Polite with teachers and others

Always with a friendly smile on face

However, keeping in mind the ingrained phrase 'the quietest ones turn out to be maniacs', you refused to give in. There was definitely more to this than met the eye. Of course, it was too early to talk about criminal inclinations, but there was a grain of truth in every rumor. To single it out from a ton of lies was the true reward.

"Huh? Leech?" Ace, whom you decided to pester during your joint punishment, reacted very characteristically. "If twins deliver what is left of you to Riddle, I will not grieve. What were you thinking-.. No, you weren't thinking at all"

"You sounds like I'm about to get into something dangerous," casually waving your brush so that excess paint flew to the sides, you gave Trappola an eloquent look.

"Don't do that here, I'm just curious," the boy parodied your voice, deliberately batting his eyelashes. "Save that crap for the head. The very last time you asked about Kingscholar-senpai, you returned to Heartslabyul flying by having received a kick in the ass"

Another swing, this time more directed, made Ace jump back, dodging the flying drops.

"Said the one who walked around the college with an anemone on his head."

"That's in the past--!"

"So what happened?"

The first year let out a sigh full of irritation, putting his hands on his hips and looking at you as if you were the embodiment of the word "problem". He could make any face he wanted if it meant he would open his mouth and tell you the details.

"There were so many students involved in this situation, but no one talked about it. Yuu is silent as well. What's the reason?" Each question was accompanied by a step forward, forcing Ace to take one step back. "Was it the principal's decision? Or is the content so embarrassing that you and Deuce agreed to never talk about it again?"

"How this--" Trappola tripped over a stone and fell with a loud thud. You tried your best to suppress a caustic grin, continuing to act like an eccentric student. "Ugh! If you're so interested, go pester Leech yourself. I refuse to participate in this, no-no-no. Get up and go find trouble yourself."

Blowing a strand of hair that fell into your eyes, you straightened up, looking at the almost painted roses. So the role of a exentric student didn't work. Well, it wasn't a great loss. You just need to choose a different type. One that won't arouse suspicion and won't contradict the current one.

Throwing the brush into the bucket of paint, you walked steadily to change, ignoring Ace's indignant cries.

Jade Leech's image was a perfect cover for your next step in gathering more personal information. Of course, who could blame you for "suddenly realizing you're in love"? Many people. Especially the trio of first years, looking at you as if you've finally lost your mind. As if Riddle's punishments had knocked out the last functioning brain cells from your head.

Now the other students, looking at you added new labels "Idiot in Love" and "Love is Really Blind". Even though at first you wanted to quietly and peacefully collect material and disappear, a new wave of rumors about you untied your hands. Reputation was a small price to pay for freedom of action.

To be honest, you didn't doubt for a second that Leech knew about everything. As an experienced detective, you noticed things that others usually turned a blind eye to. How his polite smile never left his face, but his eyes narrowed into knowing slits, forcing you to re-check the mask on your face. Perhaps he was amused by your performance, or perhaps he simply did not consider you worthy of attention. A hindrance that could exist exactly until it began to interfere into his deals.

However, as long as he did not come personally, you could let him think whatever he wanted.

"Who else," you allowed a smile to bloom on your face. "You probably know about my… feelings. How embarrassing," you continued to play the student in love, touching your cheeks with your hands and looking away. "I want to prepare a gift for your vice-leader. Could you answer me a few questions? If you don't mind, of course!"

"I'm sorry, please wait!" You were pursuing another goal. This time it was Octavinelle A student. He looked like an easy target and was unlikely to blab too much.

"Y-yes?" The boy looked around nervously, but fortunately stopped. "Are you talking to me?"

"Me? Y-you mean me?" The boy glanced down the empty corridor once more, and then his eyes widened in fear. "S-sorry, I'll go!"

You let the mask fall from your face for a moment, watching the student run away, as if he was afraid for his life. Feeling movement behind you, you turned around abruptly. There stood Jade himself with a grin. He smiled like that only when talking to Azul or Floyd, planning something what you were trying so hard to find out.

"Good afternoon," you tried to smooth over the previous reaction. "Can I help you with something?"

"Aren't you the one who needs my help, Name-san?" The tone of his voice was soft and calm, but the sparkle in his eyes gave away something completely different. "You wanted to talk about me or should I say about us. Please, correct me if I'm wrong."

"Oh, but you're absolutely right!" It was too late to retreat, if you had to play the role, then until the very end. "Speaking so directly is beyond my strength, forgive me for having such a weak heart. I swear, I was planning anything bad! Really!"

"By searching for and collecting information about me?" He took a step forward while you forced yourself to stand still. "Interviewing your classmates and other students?"

"I just wanted to get to know you better," it wasn't really a lie. "I didn't think it was right to bother you with such trifles. I apologize if I caused you any inconvenience with my actions."

You looked down guiltily at the floor, secretly hoping that your acting was good enough. You mentally ran through the possible outcomes of events in your head. If he convincingly asked you to stop, even better. You would have to revise your role and add a few details, but nothing complicated.

What? For a second, you lost control of your facial expression again, allowing genuine surprise to show.

"I admit honestly, you really added troubles to my plate," you allowed yourself to glance at the young man who continued to tower over you. Contrary to popular belief, this was the first time you were standing so close, and therefore his height made you feel very small. "If you were so interested in me, instead of being content with information from others, you could have approached me personally."

"What do you mean?"

The phrase was said more for the sake of it, to buy some time and come up with a solution.

"Oh, it's so sudden," you touched your cheeks with your hands again, hiding your darting gaze. "This is a joke, right? You're not going to play with a fragile heart in love, are you?"

"Fufufu," Jade only chuckled, touching his chin with hand and baring sharp teeth in a smile, while everything inside you went cold. "You, let me remind, mentioned to others your little crush, am I right?" You nodded mechanically. "What if I express my desire, just like yours, to get to know you better?"

A gloved hand took one of your palms away from your face, forcing you to straighten up and look forward. It was a miracle you didn't snatch it away that second, allowing him to hold your hand and even brush his lips against it in a light kiss.

"Is that enough to dispel all your fears, Name-san?"

There was an unspoken, 'you add another one,' hanging in the air, but you forced yourself to smile as if he had said the sweetest thing in the world. You glanced back furtively, horrified at how long his shadow was, and how it had completely swallowed up yours.

The question of whether you should continue farce for the sake of work remained open.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Epilogue)

summary: a year after their confrontation with the corrupted lords, a fleeting thought crosses astarion's mind as he watches you admiring the crack of dawn.

rating: E

word count: 4.5k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. time skip, fluff (in my angsty fanfic? its more likely than you think!), emotional smut. full list on ao3

a/n: gods, what a ride! this was my very first long fic, and im very happy with how it turned out, considering i had NO idea how this would end up when i first started it! this ending was one of three, based on the poll yall have taken on the second chapter. i hope it lives up to your expectations and im looking forward to all the feedback! this is not my only work, if you wanna be tagged on my other works, feel free to let me know and ill add you to the tag list. thank you all for sticking along! <3

Masterlist

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You're part of the dawn where the light comes from the dark

You're a part of the morning and everything matters

And we are, an atom and a star

You're a part of the movement and everything matters

-

It has been a year since your transformation. A year since you officially died and came back as Astarion’s dark consort; his bride, his eternal love. Since the incident with the corrupted nobles, you’ve only grown stronger, as much as a vampire – and he couldn’t be more proud of you – than as a couple.

Your return among his court was gradual. You were reluctant at first: the lingering fear from the dreadful soiree you experienced still affected you, so Astarion let you watch from the shadows; he would never force you to do something you didn't want to. It's only after two more months that you asked if you could attend, and only if you could stay by his side; your social anxiety wouldn't let you be alone in a room with so many strangers without feeling as if you were asphyxiated. He was beyond thrilled by your request, as he wanted nothing more than to introduce the whole world to his beloved.

It took some more time, but you found yourself joining in on discussions with lords about the state of the city and its economic state. Your teachings were buried deep in your memory, but you retained the most important parts of them, using those to show your knowledge and bring forward ideas to save the city from its downfall following the mindflayer attack. To your surprise, you found yourself right at your place within the high society; it was in your blood after all, and what was the point of running from it when you were clearly a natural? You found out that it was never your title that you dreaded, but rather the association to your parents and contributing to their schemes — something you were glad to not be a part of anymore.

The change was almost seamless: one day you were attached to Astarion's arm, never leaving his side, and the next, you were strolling through the crowd, knowing everyone's name, their occupation, and how influential they were. While Astarion was able to persuade more nobles to ally with him, you’ve been very successful at swaying people to your advantage, using your charms and wits to redirect power from the right people for the good of the city; together, you’re considered the strongest couple in Baldur’s Gate.

You proved yourself countless times, and he was always delighted to present you as his partner.

His equal.

After yet another successful night of dancing and socialising, one where you had convinced a neighbouring lord to fund an orphanage for the children who had lost their parents in the attack, you met up with your lover in your chambers to celebrate the news. In truth, everything you accomplished was a great reason to celebrate.

To see you act with the might of a Lady, smart and witty, and use every tool you had to your advantage made him swoon over you, and one of the best ways to express it was to worship you in bed, spending hours and hours devoting himself to you.

It’s something you thought you would struggle with — the intimacy after the violence you had endured — but you found yourself easily melting in his embrace once you were back at the palace. Just like that first night you spent together and he had let you guide that dance; upon your return, he let you take control until you were the one asking for him to take you however and wherever he wanted, how you grew to crave his touch, the look in his eyes when a sinful thought was shared across your connection, and the faint blush you could spy on cheeks and ears as he painted his vision of you via your bond. The endless teasing throughout the evening sure made the meetings more interesting, and less dreadful, if you had to admit it.

After a great season of events, Astarion cancelled all his meetings for the next tenday to devote his attention to you, and you only. No one was to disturb either of you unless they had a death wish.

And the night of that last meeting, any restraints had broken down, when you almost threw yourself at each other as soon as your last visitor had left the palace. It started out in the hallways, but you were quickly brought into his room to have the privacy you required. You spent the remainder of the night in bed, switching from making love to cuddling, until you were back to straddle him for more; unable to leave the other’s side or even spend a second without your bodies touching.

He kissed each and every part of your body, showing his devotion to you in such a delicate manner that turned you to putty in his hands, embracing away any pain your body had gone through. This past year, he had been the most attentive lover; always in the moment with you, making sure that your eyes met as his hips collided with yours, sharing the same breath that united you both, body and soul. As your bodies fused and you both came undone, you could sense the love, the utter adoration he had for you. Both of you grounded the other and reminded each other that you were not the result of your past; only you chose what to make of it.

There was no one else in the world who could understand you better than each other.

It’s only when you noticed dawn approaching as you nuzzled into his chest, that you realised how long you had been indulging in the other. You chuckled and commented on how you both could use some sleep, since if one of you was tired, the other would be too, and really, how impractical it would be to have you both incapacitated at once.

He took a look at you as he lazily caressed your hair and that’s when he was reminded of the one thing that had been on his mind these last few months. The one thing he dreaded, but couldn’t avoid anymore.

“There is a way, you know…” he said, his voice soft. “To sever the bond. Between creator and consort.” He pauses as you lift your head, frowning as you meet his gaze, and for a second he doubts if he should carry on, but quickly pushes the doubts aside; you deserved to know. To have a chance to decide for yourself, without any ultimatum.

“It is mostly painless,” he continued, “You would remain as you are, a full fledged vampire, but we wouldn’t share our connection anymore; no more mental discussion, no more shared sensations.” You looked at him with a thousand questions in your eyes, as this was the last thing you expected this morning. “I am willing to go through the procedure for you, should you desire it.”

You remained silent through your blinking, until you finally found the words that fought to get out. “You would… really do that?”

This proposition felt so unlike the Astarion who once had you chained up in his dungeons, something that he had agreed had been, and you quote, ‘impolite’, since you last spoke about it. He didn’t regret it — you wouldn’t be in his arms otherwise — but he supposed there could’ve been a better way to talk to you at the reunion.

“As much as I want to keep you all to myself, I can’t bring myself to keep you bound to me after what you’ve been through. It… wouldn’t be fair for me to make that decision for you. I want you to have the chance to make the choice yourself.”

You scanned his expression, and although you saw the sincerity, you also sensed grief. Breaking your bond would sever any type of connection between you both. A part of you would die along with it, and you would lose the possibility of lingering in each other's mind. Even though you understood his intentions, it didn’t make sense for him to propose this when he finally had you to himself. Against your best judgement, you peeked into his mind, searching for an explanation, and what you found completely shattered you.

By offering this to you, Astarion understood that there was a chance you might just… leave. With nothing holding you back, linking you to him, he thought you had no reason to stay. That the sole reason keeping you here was this bond, and even with how close you had become, how much you had grown together in your relationship, how utterly in love you were — in that moment, under all the false confidence, you saw right through him; he was convinced that once the bond was broken, you would leave. Run away from this mess that had been life at his side, and find someone who truly deserved you, saw you for your worth. That you could only degrade yourself if you stayed after what he had put you through. He didn’t believe for a second that you would continue to put up with this life if you had the choice, and yet, here he was proposing it to you, offering you this way out.

You gave him a soft smile, a reassuring one that you hoped carried the intention you had.

“I… would like that.” He nodded, understanding that this was a possibility, and he hoped you would take this opportunity, if only for your own sake, but it didn't hurt any less. “But I do have a condition.”

He smiled sadly, his features softening at hearing you bargaining, a bittersweet reminder of how all of this started. “Anything for you, my dear.”

It’s the warmth of the sun’s embrace that stirs Astarion awake this morning. Gods, he will never tire of it. If only for this reason, his ascension was well worth it, and no one will ever convince him otherwise.

You let your minds connect, telling him your request through your bond, and when you saw the light sparkle in his ruby eyes and his face light up, you knew there was nothing in the world he would like more.

-

That, and seeing his reflection again. He's lost count of the times he spent admiring himself; pausing at every mirror he had meticulously installed around the palace, stealing glances at his reflection, and lingering at the colour of his deep ruby eyes. Those same eyes that had sealed the fate of so many unfortunate souls; these deadly, beautiful weapons, that keep helping him charm the right people. How he went two hundred years without enjoying the sight of himself has him completely astounded. Needless to say, this was an issue no more, and long gone were the days of misery; Nearly two years later, he had everything he ever wanted, at long last.

Everything, and yet his most prized possession remained this little human fighter turned bride.

Really, the only person he ever truly wanted, that he ever loved, even. A feeling that had felt most foreign once upon a time. He never thought he could experience such a strong emotion, something that was forbidden to him just over three years ago — something he would’ve considered a weakness — turned into his greatest strength. A feeling that overwhelmed him to the point where he couldn’t restrain himself from physically expressing it; taking his dark consort in every room, every surface of the palace, until they were both panting, eyes half-lidded and lost in one another. That same feeling that would now have him chanting out her name all night long as he devoted himself to her; her body, her pleasure, her desire for him. How utterly blessed he was to have her just as enamoured for him as he was for her.

As he finally awakens from his reverie, he quickly picks up on the empty spot next to him. Curious, he thinks, she was never the early bird. When he lifts himself on his elbows, that's when he sees her on his balcony, and he takes the time to admire her; his consort, his love, still by his side through it all, blessed by the rising sun’s warmth. It took over a year more after their engagement, as Astarion couldn’t believe her decision to stay, but he finally got over the fear of losing her. After everything that had happened, and the opportunity she was given, she chose to stay and have a life with him. After everything, she still loved him just as deeply, and that day at the altar, she promised to spend the rest of her undead life showing him just how much she did love him.

Content with the sight of her, he finally gets up to join her on the balcony, without bothering to dress up. He sneaks up on her, snuggling her from behind, his hands wrapping around her waist, while he leaves playful kisses along her neck and shoulder to greet her.

“Mmmh, hello my treasure,” he murmurs in the crook of her neck. “Can’t sleep?”

“I was just admiring the sun,” she hums. “It’s funny, I never really bothered to appreciate it until I thought I could never be under its light,” she takes a deep breath as she closes her eyes, taking in the warmth she was basking in. “I never quite realised how beautiful this world is.”

She sighs in his embrace, but it's almost a moan, as she pushes back against him for more contact, “I didn’t think I would disturb you from your precious beauty sleep.”

He can hear her smile through her mumbling, and he smiles in return, “It’s your sleep I’m rather worried about dear.” His kisses linger on her neck, over the bite marks he birthed upon her skin an eternity ago. “And I think you should join me back in bed to remedy it.”

She laughs, “I’m not sure your idea of rest coincides with mine,” she turns around to face him and rests her hands on his bare chest. “Actually, I rather believe you will wear me out more than anything.”

He smirks as he presses her against the edge of the balcony, lifting her nightgown up before propping her up to rest atop it, guiding her legs to wrap around him. “Do you really think so little of me? That I would drag you to bed only to satisfy my carnal desires?”

“Well,” she rolls her eyes as she smiles, “you haven’t given me a reason that proves you would do otherwise.”

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her, and in the same movement, he wraps his arms around her waist and leans into the nape of her neck, resuming his sweet attention. When his smile widens, he feels the creases in his cheeks, depicting the countless moments of happiness she brought him since she has blessed him with her company.

“I assure you, my love, my intentions were most pure,” he purrs.

She tilts her head aside, offering him more liberties with her neck. “Were they now? Well, if you say so, then I’m sure I can trust you to carry me to bed where I shall resume my rest.”

“Ah, but I’m afraid the offer has expired. You see,” his finger hooks the string of her nightgown, pulling it down, “now, all I can offer,” he pulls down the other one, revealing your breasts to the morning breeze, “is a morning spent fulfilling our matrimonial duties.” “Matrimonial duties?” She exclaims ironically. “What unholy thoughts have you got in mind, I wonder.”

“I could show you, if you would indulge me,” his kisses over her skin become sloppy, his teeth softly grazing her skin while his tongue leaves a faint trail of saliva from her shoulder up to her ear, playfully nibbling it, while one hand reaches for her breast and the other finds its way in the heat between her legs.

“Ah– Astarion…” Her playful tone is replaced by soft moans as he takes a salacious pleasure in touching her in her most sensitive spots.

“What’s that, dear?” His fingers slide against her folds, not yet daring to dip further.

She groans, “You are incorrigible.”

“And yet, I don’t hear you asking me to stop,” he pinches her nipple between his fingers with the hand massaging her generous chest, while his other hand brushes over her clit, lingering near her entrance but intentionally avoiding it. As he hears her ragged breath, he pulls away, cutting any contact between the two of them, and languidly sucks on his fingers to taste her wetness, while his gaze focuses on her, before releasing his fingers with a pop. He tilts his head, with a playful look in his eyes, “Unless that’s what you want?”

She looks at him with lust clouding her vision, barely containing herself, “If you intend on teasing me, my lord, I hope you know what you’ve got coming for you.”

He leans back, assessing the vision of his consort completely lost in her need for him, with a salacious smile tugging at his lips, “My, my, is my little love threatening me?”

“Oh no,” her hands sneak into his hair to grab a handful of it before lightly pulling back and leaning into his ear, murmuring, “This is a promise.”

She lets go of his hair, leaving her hands wandering, and when their eyes meet again, they are darkened by their shared passion for each other. His voice comes out deeper, as he closes the distance between them, their lips now but a whisper apart.

“Then I believe I should make haste to tend to your needs, my lady.”

Their lips finally meet into a passionate kiss, the tenderness of it even surprising Astarion — considering the eager tone she had previously used — but he melts into it, pouring all of his longing into the kiss, just as she does when her hands pull back to hold his face closer. He picks her up from the edge of the balcony and carries her back into their room, where he lays her out on their bed and removes her nightgown, slowly unravelling her soft skin to the morning afterglow. The sight of her, bare before him — only for him; with her legs parted and inviting him in, her body bearing only the bite marks he had given her — is enough to break any restraints left in him. He couldn’t bear to tease her longer, he needed her as much as she needed him.

Licking his lips, he kneels at the end of the bed, crawling his way up to his wife. He lifts her leg over his shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses up to the apex of her thighs, until he reaches the centre of his desire. He breathes her in, the scent of her pleasure stirring something deep within him, before his tongue finds its way between her slick folds, where he finally licks her, from the bottom of her entrance right up to her clit.

She moans softly, already lost to the magic of his tongue, and that's when he lifts her thighs over his shoulders, locking her legs around him, and holding them in place to feast on his meal.

His tongue dives into her, reaching into the depth of her cunt and drinking in her nectar, the effects of it visibly affecting him, as his hardened cock throbs between his belly and the soft sheets of the bed. His hips move unconsciously, searching for a temporary relief as he moves his tongue out of her to lick his way back up, where he finds her swollen bud.

While his hand sneaks away from her thighs, into her dripping entrance, his eyes flick up to find her unravelling before him; her head thrown back, and her hands grabbing at the sheets, holding on for dear life.

“Gods, please…” she begs, her breathing failing her, and he smiles between her legs, as he pumps two fingers into her.

With a final flick of his tongue over her clit, he lifts his head up, still hitting that sweet spot inside of her, “Yes, little love?”

“I… I need you— gods, I need you.”

“You have me, my love,” he says, his voice soft like velvet. “All of me, however you wish.”

He knew what she meant, but he wanted to hear her say it. He would never tire of having her melt under his touch, coming apart under him.

“Inside me,” she whimpers as she clenches around his fingers working wonders inside of her. “Now.”

The urgency of her tone was clearly noticeable, but Astarion wants to push her further, “But I am inside you, my dear.”

She lifts herself up on her elbows, her hair completely dishevelled and her chest rising with each deep breath, staring down her husband with a mix of fury and lust. “If you don’t fuck me right this instant— Ahhh ffffuck!”

While she was talking, Astarion went back to teasing her sensitive bud and accelerating the pace of his fingers thrusting in. “Oh, I’ll fuck you alright. By the time I'm done with your delicious cunt, you’ll only see stars, my sweet.”

He could easily make her go over the edge only with his mouth and his fingers; he had done it countless times in the past already, he was well aware of his abilities, but nothing compared to the feeling of her tightening around his cock and milking him dry while he pumped every drop of his seed into her. It was his favourite way to come with her, and he took great pleasure in making her shatter in every way imaginable. They had all the time in the world to discover the many ways she would cum under his touch.

“Mmh ahh— Pleasepleaseplease Astarion, I want to feel you inside of me, I’m begging you—” Her words get lost in her throat, instead replaced by cries as she nears her climax, until—

“Ah,” Astarion pulls away completely, “but how could I deny my lovely wife when she begs so beautifully.”

Her groans turn into small cries as his teasing starts to overwhelm her, and that’s when he drops her legs down on their bed and crawls over her, aligning himself with her swollen pussy, before linking their hands together to pin her down. He leans down and stops right before kissing her, simply to push her to the limits of her patience, and when she hisses at him for being just out of reach, he shoves his cock inside of her, stilling her.

He remains unmoving, always taking his time with his first thrust to take in the feelings of her tight walls, pulsing around him. Astarion rests his forehead on hers, their eyes lost in the other, carrying the words they had learned to communicate aloud after they had broken their bond.

Carrying on with this ritual had pushed them to communicate better and work on their relationship, creating a new type of bond with the other. They had learned to understand the other’s body language so well that sometimes, a simple look was enough to communicate their exact thoughts from across the room.

His fingers dig into the mattress as he tightens his hold on her, and he resumes his languid strokes, “Focus darling. I want to see every little expression you make while I fuck you. Can you do that for me?”

She tries to nod, but his depraved speech only pushes her further and faster to her climax, as she fights to keep her eyes open and focused on him.

When he feels her cunt’s grip thighten around him, he can barely contain himself anymore, “Fuck, just like that, love,” his groans and the wet sound of their hips slapping against each other gets only louder as he accelerates the pace, nearing his own climax, “Gods, you’re so tight around me— I’m gonna fill you up to the brim, and you’re gonna take it all like the good girl you are.”

A few more thrusts is all it takes to send her over the edge, screaming out as her climax erupts through her like electricity flowing through her veins, followed quickly by Astarion who stills inside of her, shooting thick ropes of come that leak out from her, into their bedsheets. It was the least of his worries right now — he could always change them later, but they would be ruined in the following hour regardless.

They both remain panting, basking in the bliss of this aftermath, until he takes a look at their hands still intertwined. On her right hand, he spies the sparkling diamond ring adorning her finger, the public display of their unison matching his own, and he brings it to his lips for a brief kiss, before taking the time to admire it, thinking back to how it all started.

“I told you, Lady Ancunín suits you beautifully, my love.”

She smiles sweetly, eyes tired from their lovemaking, “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

And he knew she spoke the truth. Their marriage didn't only solidify their relationship, but it protected her from solicitors who might've been tempted to try giving her advances after the news of Virric's death had been propagated, and by taking Astarion's last name, she was free from any remaining links to her family, a name she detached herself from completely years ago already, now legally unbinded.

She didn't even need to explain the extent of her reasoning; the second she proposed, Astarion was on his way to commission matching rings for them. Truth be told, he had wanted to make the proposal himself, but after knowing of her past with Virric, he didn’t dare bring it up first. She did give him the chance to announce the news at their next soiree, and it's the only thing he had spoken about that evening.

They would be Aeterna Amantes. Lovers forever, until the world burns down.

Gods know that he would burn the world down himself if she merely asked — not that she would ever, he knew her better than that — and she was the only one he would ever get on his knees for.

She was the goddess who finally answered his prayers that had gone unanswered all these years ago; the sun that made him feel alive once more; the brightest star that guided him throughout the night; the very reason he decided to live on, and yet, if it came to it, he knew he would die for her.

-

Pars avant l'aube

Quand la lumière veut nous voir

Quelque part dans le monde

Un oiseau s'endort sans bruit

Toi et moi

Dans la nuit on trouvera

Quelque part où déposer

Les fleurs qu'on a cueillies

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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[majaloveschris]

You know, another blog made a good point I hadn’t thought of before: that both sides are feeding the narrative, and that’s why it seems like this whole thing will never end. I mean, how long has it been said or implied the end was near, and what happens instead? New content is always dropped. It was said that he fired Megan, and that he cut Tara off, but what happened? Megan and Tara both show up at the New York premiere after not being seen for almost the entire year. And his whole family was there, after it was implied he wasn’t on speaking terms with them.

I honestly think they’re (his team) torturing and gaslighting the fandom on purpose now, because let’s be honest, the blogs and the fan accounts are the only ones paying close attention to everything. The general public doesn’t care about either of them. They don’t even know who she is. He’s not properly know outside of Captain America. So why do all this stuff to cover their bases if the general public isn’t asking the questions the fandom is asking? Blogs make a point about the immigration laws, and the brands that are connected to this whole thing, but the general public isn’t consciously aware of any of that. The average person can’t spot a specific brand of watch or clothing, and they can’t list immigration laws off the top of their heads. Why would these little things be spotted or cared about by the general public?

A part of me wonders if both sides are all plants, whether they realize it or not, because both sides in their own way have been the driving forces carrying this stunt to where it is now. Everytime something happens, who talks about it most? Who points things out? Who makes lists of the holes and the things that don’t add up? Both sides are being used; one side just got paid and the other side didn’t. But they’re both being used to keep the manipulation and the gaslighting going. And I don’t think they even realize it.

How many times has certain blogs changed their rhetoric as to why a breakup article hasn’t been published yet? How every time an anon calls out that what they say doesn’t add up, they magically have an explanation? I’m not discounting the things they got the right, but they always seem to get the biggest thing wrong. Now it’s that all players are always brought in for the finale, but what will be the new explanation for November ends and a breakup still hasn’t happened? What will it be when December rolls around and it still hasn’t happened then either?

Sometimes I stand on the outside looking in, and I see just why this whole things keeps going, around and around in circles, a cycle that just keeps on going and never changes. The people who pay attention to it are just as much players in this game the same way Chris and Alba and everyone else is. And it doesn’t matter if you only post make one post about it, or if you post social media numbers or do tarot readings or debunk every single thing that comes out, you contribute to the stunt. You keep it going. Even I’m doing that by sending this. Like everyone who is exhausted, I wish they would just end this. I wish Chris would stand up for himself and put himself, and everyone around him and all of us watching, out of misery. A fan called this a “push and pull” and that’s exactly what it is. It’s like a bad carousel that won’t end. And honestly, it won’t stop until everyone decides they’ve had enough and just gets off, all players included.

Yeah, talking about this whole relationship definitely feeds the narrative, but that's not the reason why this whole thing is still going on. Even if nobody gave a shit about them, or even people would believe they are real and nobody would doubt it, this whole thing would still be going on. We aren't the ones keeping this alive, and we won't be the ones ending it either. This will end when they want it to end; it is simply that. 

Not everybody is going around telling people that the end is near or that it's already ended, and I don't agree with those who do it. Nobody here can know for a fact when and how this ends, and people shouldn't be spreading this whole thing either, especially after they were proved to be wrong a hundred times. This whole thing ends when they say it ends, not when some random person reading a blog says so. But people shouldn't believe it either when they say something like that. Nobody here knows when this ends, so spare yourself from disappointment and don't believe everything you read online. 

The whole "he fired Megan and he cut Tara" thing comes from the fandom. They haven't said or done anything that would give even the slightest indication that he did those things. You can't blame them for something they had nothing to do with? Did Chris say those things? No. Did he imply those things? No. People made those things up. You say it's been implied, and then they appear somewhere. But we can't hold them accountable for things they have nothing to do with. If some people think he did something without any evidence, but then he proceeds to do the exact opposite, it's not his fault. 

Just like in every fandom, most contents are for us. We are the ones sharing it, making it more viral, but saying they are torturing us is a bit of a reach. I agree about the gashlight part, since we believe this is not real, but they keep trying to prove us otherwise. Everybody can decide whether they want to be here or not. We all know what we "signed up" for, and we are all free people who can do whatever they want. If you think this is torture, you can leave and spend time with things that make you happy. Nobody forces anybody to stay here; they don't either. If it's something that has a huge negative effect on your mental health, just walk away; it doesn't worth it. They don't want the general public to care about immigration laws or specific brands. Other than those things, this is not real; people don't care, and they don't want you to do so. They want people to believe this is real, and the GP won't start digging deeper because they don't care, nor do those people who think this is real. They didn't expect this at the very beginning; they thought most people would believe this was real and wouldn't ask questions. 

This plant question is hard because I don't think everybody is paid here. Some people are just way too involved, but that doesn't mean they are getting paid. Do we help them with pointing things out? Probably. But again, we aren't the ones making this longer lasting than it was supposed to be. Even if we weren't talking here, all of this would still be going on. Maybe they wouldn't get as many good tips as they do, but the duration of this relationship isn't on us. 

Some people love acting like they know everything and that they have knowledge about everything, but that doesn't make them plants. Some people are really impulsive, and they say things based on limited information. But not everybody is like them. 

Thinking this whole thing would magically end if we stopped talking about this is a reach, I think. And it's never going to happen. There will always be people talking about this, but if this is fake, it has to end at some point, right? It's not going to last forever just because we post about it. 

This thing will end when they want it to end. We can do and say whatever we want; it's going to end sooner just because of us. 

If I can be honest with you, this whole thing is just not that deep. Some people take this whole thing way too personally and spend way too much time thinking and caring about it. I like sharing my thoughts about this, but that's it. I spend maybe like 30 minutes of my life with this and then deal with my own things. After all, whether they are really together or not is not going to affect my life. How a Hungarian saying says; it won't make bread cheaper. Would it be disappointing? Yeah, because of the person she is. But we can't let this whole thing ruin even a single moment of our lives for us. Our lives are much more important than their fake relationship. 

[that-one-enby-ranger]

It's John Richard Deacon's birthday today so that means its time to yap about him so get ready

First of all, I fucking love this man. This man is amazing and has got to be one of the best people I have had the pleasure of knowing about. He is an amazing player, and even though I will admit he is probably not THE best, he is still, in my opinion, one of the best, and will always be my favourite.

This man is such a talented musician and I hate how underrated he is. He is one of the less open members of the band and is not as public, and of course isn't like Freddie, so he is often forgotten about by people who pay more attention to the music instead of the band themselves. He has written great songs for Queen which include Another One Bites The Dust, I Want To Break Free, You're My Best Friend (which he wrote for his wife and I find that so cute), wrote the bass line for Under Pressure (and then forgot it while getting pizza but lets not talk about that), Friends Will be Friends, Spread Your Wings and others

And then he has songs which are extremely underrated in my opinion because they are fucking GREAT. Misfire (great lyrics, truly poetic, can't believe someone could come up with such great words and meanings), In Only Seven Days, You and I, If You Can't Beat Them, One Year of Love, and I don't care what anyone else says I like Back Chat. He wrote other songs as well. Even though he didn't write as many songs as the other members did, he still wrote songs, some of which went on to be massive hits, and he still contributed a lot to the band.

There's a reason why the rest of the band chose him as their bass player. They tried out multiple different bass players and none of them worked out. Then they met John and boom they had the best bass player they could ask for.

John also knew engineering, and he is an electronics engineer by training. He created his own amplifier in 1972 and it is called the Deacy amp. That's fucking cool. I'm not an engineer of any kind, but I would guess that's pretty impressive.

THIS MAN IS A FUCKING FAMILY MAN. He loves his family so much and it is so sweet. His wife's name is Veronica and in an interview (I'm pretty sure it was an interview they did for The Miracle album) he said that one of his favourite songs was a song called Veronica or something like that because it was the name of his wife. He also has six kids which is pretty badass if you ask me. Plus he wrote You're My Best Friend for his wife and that is super fucking sweet especially if you listen to the lyrics and remember that he wrote that for her. "Ooo, you make me live."

We joke about John being the cute baby of the band, and even though he is adorable, he is also a complete badass and I love him for it. According to Brian May, John could make you want to crawl into a ball and die with just a couple sentences. That wasn't a direct quote but it was something similar. There was one time when the band were out recording for an album or something like that, I can't remember the specifics, but John pretty much just fucked off and went to Bali, and left a note on his bass case saying that he went to Bali. He wrote Misfire. He used to throw peanuts into Brian's hair while he was playing his guitar solos at concerts. He learnt to play the double bass in two days because Brian told him as a joke that he would need it to play '39 even though he didn't. He had tons of stitches in his hand from smashing through glass when he was drunk or something and he still played a gig. A photographer couldn't do a photoshoot for Queen so they payed John to do it and he tried to take pictures of Roger's ass. I'm like 80% sure it was Roger I can't really remember. This is just the stuff I can think of at the top of my head by the way, this isn't even all of it. If I could be bothered to get my phone and look through Queen folder to try and find all this shit then I could add more but I'm lazy. By the way, I haven't fact checked any of this shit and I am definetely not going to, this is just shit I've heard, so some of it may not even be true, but I don't care, I like to think it is.

He is the most quite and reserved of the band, especially when it comes to the public and I absolutely repsect that. Just because he's apart of one of the most famous bands in the world does not mean he has to be public outside of that. He didn't have too much attention put on to him during shows, and I can only assume he liked it like that, but he still had his own little prescensse and I love him for it. He had a little cocktail bar behind his amp ad during concerts he would be constantly going back to get drinks, so throughout the show he would be getting more and more drunk and would be getting more hyper most likely. During concerts he did little disco moves and dances and it was the best seeing him hop around in his own little area and do his own little thing.

HIS DECISION TO LEAVE QUEEN AFTER FREDDIE DIED WAS COMPLETELY VALID AND ANYONE WHO DISAGRESS CAN GO TO HELL. I heard somewhere that part of the reason why he didn't want to carry on wasn't just because of Freddie, but was also because when Freddie was with them, he felt that most of the attention would be on Freddie, but after he died, he felt that more attention would be on him and he didn't like that, and honestly that is completely fine and he can decide what he wants to do. He cared so much about Freddie and he apparently cried before going on stage for the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert and he should not have to carry on with something if he doesn't want to do it

John is such a silly cutie. They all are. But today we focusing on John. I'm writing this while watching John clips and he is so cute and such a silly underrated guy.

Also, I noticed the John Deacon tag here only has like 7.something K followers and THAT IS CRIMINAL HE DESERVES SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT

He did the triangle in killer queen and that is the reason he has a microphone and I found that so fucking funny.

There is so much more I could write about him, but Im gonna stop now because I'm only half focusing on my deacy clips and he deserves more attention so I'm gonna watch that

Here have some photos:

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T-pose Deacy

SUCH A CUTIE HAPPY BIRTHDAY THIS MAN DESERVES THE WORLD AND ALL THE LOVE AAAAAAAAA ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💝❤️💝💝💝💝💝❤️💝❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉🎉🎉❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉🎉❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉🎉❤️🎉❤️🎉❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉❤️❤️❤️🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️