#did he get possessive as usual?😂

[sweetonsugden]

[pippin-katz]

Iron Burns

Something I'm super curious about is just how badly iron hurts when a ghost touches it. I posted a little ramble about Charles being chained and unable to help Edwin while she tortured him, and how we didn't get a reaction shot of him hearing Edwin screaming. And something clicked in my brain. I will preface this by saying that I can't prove anything, and could very well be completely wrong. This is just a possible explanation/option.

This was supposed to be relatively short, and that did not happen lmfao Here's your long post warning 😂

Charles VS Iron

This is Charles we are talking about. He is fiercely protective of Edwin, and let's be honest, can get physically violent when provoked. He was sitting there, listening to Esther, until she specifically brought up rescuing Edwin from her plans. It's only when she says that that he starts moving, and he very obviously intended to attack her.

It confirms in Charles' head that there is a specific reason why Edwin is separated from him, and that is bad. Very bad. He possessed Esther to get them out of their first fight with her; she very nearly succeeded in getting them eaten by that Forest Elemental. She is seriously dangerous, and he knows it. Whatever she has planned for Edwin, Charles knows it's vicious and vile.

That thought spurs him to physically attack Esther, without hesitation. Based on the fact that his hands are open, Charles was going to grab her rather than hit her, and, based on her proximity to him, by the throat. That is the only effective attack from his position I can think of; it's the only way he can completely incapacitate.

Logical reasoning aside, choking someone is a pretty common violent anger response. It's probably because it's the easiest way to kill someone with your bare hands; in shows, many characters use a weapon to hurt their adversaries. It's the bullet, the blade, the bat, or whatever that actually hurts them, makes contact with them. It feels different when it's literally you hurting them. Your hands are weapons on their own if you know how to use them. Ex: Vi from Arcane has boxing as her go-to fighting style.

Okay, I went on a bit of tangent there, but my point is that Charles is fucking pissed. This is Charles, who fears being like his father, wanting to hurt Esther.

Violence is the last resort for all of their cases and situations. Charles will take out his cricket bat if he senses danger, but it's more of an intimidation tactic than a true threat. Charles does not actually attack anyone with the cricket bat who is not already an established threat. He takes it out during their first encounter with Esther, when they meet the Cat King, in the Devlin House, when the Night Nurse first shows up, in the forest against David, and against the snake. Most of those encounters are not a matter of negotiation; the first fight with Esther, the Devlin House, David, and the snake were all situations where "talking it out" was not an option, so pulling out the cricket bat to intimidate them would have been pointless. When he takes the bat out in those cases, he's already fully intending to use it. When he takes it out against the Cat King and the Night Nurse, he waits. He holds it up to send a message. It says, "Don't make me hurt you, because I will if I have to."

Charles doesn't want to hurt people, and usually tries his best to find another solution; even when we see him having to fight someone, a military veteran no less, he apologizes and only defends against him because he knows this is a ghost who's cursed, and doesn't deserve it, despite his violent behavior. They attempt to talk the Night Nurse out of taking them for several minutes before she attacks him. She attacks him mentally and emotionally in a way the others don't see and can't fathom; you could even argue that it is a physical attack as well because she makes him relive being beaten by his father and stoned by his friends. The Night Nurse does not hit him, but she hurts him, hurts him bad. When Charles hits her with that music box, despite what the others see, he's retaliating, not initiating. Because again, Charles wants to find another solution first.

But with Esther? He is so far passed that. He is so furious that he wants to attack her. He wants to hurt her. And that is before she starts torturing Edwin.

When he heard Edwin screaming, do you realize just how angry Charles would have been? I can't comprehend how badly he would've wanted to break free and fuck Esther up for what she did. Charles is genuinely intimidating when he's angry; he would have been absolutely terrifying.

Tiny Note: this is the best shot of Charles in the whole show. Let my boy beat the shit out of someone without getting judged for it, please! Let him go apeshit, please!! 🙏🏻

I struggle to believe that anything would have stopped him from getting to Edwin in that state, iron collar be damned.

But Charles doesn't. He doesn't break free. He tries, and continues to fail repeatedly. Almost every movement makes the collar burn him.

The thought I had was how little Charles would care about his own safety/pain if it meant saving Edwin. This boy willingly enters and traverses Hell itself for him. He tells the Night Nurse that if he goes, he can either succeed in bringing Edwin back, or get stuck in Hell so she knows where they are. Charles admits that he would rather be stuck in Hell with Edwin than spend another second without him. When Crystal asks, "What if something happens to you?", he has no response. He honestly does not care if something happens to him, but he doesn't want to admit that to Crystal's face cause that would hurt her, so he refuses to answer.

Getting hurt does not matter to him, so just how painful was that iron that Charles, at his angriest, and in his most desperate state, could not break out?

We see him pulling on the chain and struggling, but he's moving as little as possible because he's trying that hard not to touch the collar. He lets go because it hurts too much. Even when his bag is just out of reach, which is the solution to all of his struggles, he can't bear the burning long enough to get his foot under the strap.

Based on all of that, my brain told me this: the iron burning was so painful that Charles could not endure it long enough to escape, even in his angriest and desperate state, listening to the most important person in his world screaming in a way he has never heard before, and pleading for Esther to stop hurting him.

Like, that sounds crazy to me. Seeing how angry he got at the Night Nurse, and the intensity of his rage in that scene makes me wonder what was going through his head while chained up.

Edwin VS Iron

But my brain was not done with this information. One of my favorite details that I want to be explored in the future is how nonchalant Edwin is while his hand is burning.

He did not notice it was burning until Crystal pointed it out. He looks and sounds genuinely surprised when he sees it. His expression and the way he says he was careless makes me feel like he wasn't in pain and trying to play it off, but was upset with himself for making a very noticeable mistake in front of Crystal while trying to show off and prove a point.

Edwin's pain tolerance is so high that he does not even notice a simple iron burn.

The second time he gets touched by iron is when Esther knocks him across the garden. He looks down at the burn that's what's hurting him, but I don't buy it.

This boy just got swatted like a tennis ball across a courtyard into a small greenhouse.

We all know that Charles does the fighting/takes the hits, so Edwin getting hit like that is probably a new feeling. Since iron makes them tangible for a couple seconds, he probably physically felt it when he landed.

Being burned and crashing into things are two very different sensations, and one of them Edwin hasn't experienced in thirty years. The burn is localized to his hand, and it's a burn. It stings. Hitting a structure that fast and landing like that is going to effect your whole body. It's aching, it bruises every part of you, from your skin down to your bones. It's so much more uncomfortable and hindering than a simple burn. If you burn your hand, you can still operate day-to-day almost normally, but if you mess up your body in some way, you're not going to be able to walk without being in pain. If you asked me which one I'd rather have happen to me, I would take the burn so fast.

Point being that him looking distressed and hurt after that hit makes a whole lot of sense, despite his high pain tolerance. It probably surprised him more than hurt him. It doesn't last long either.

The only time we see him truly react to iron is in Esther's torture device, which is obvious but I'll talk it through anyway.

The cuffs restraining his arms are touching his bare wrists, tightly and constantly. His wrists smoke from it. Him gasping at that makes sense.

But the real kicker here is obviously the rods. Upon first glance, it looks like they touch down on his torso, zapping him or whatever you'd call that, on a surface level. But if you pay close attention to the shots where he's somewhat transparent you can see that those prongs are actually going through him, at least a little bit.

I took a screenshot, up-ed the brightness, and marked where it looks like the rods hit him, versus where they actually end.

Edwin moves around a bit, so there are definitely some shots where they are just touching his skin, but that's kind of the point I'm trying to make. The rods are not moving, they are static, so when Edwin's body moves around them, they stay put. That is fucking painful.

The rod is not moving, but Edwin's body is, and there is nowhere for his skin/muscles to go but through the metal, like it is cutting through him in reverse. If you push a knife down to cut through something, like a carrot, it cuts. But if you hold the carrot, and push it down on the blade, it still cuts.

That would explain even more why Edwin reacts to whenever Esther touches him, even when the device is paused. It would also explain why he was begging Esther "don't come any closer" during one of the cutaway shots.

If you think about it, that doesn't make any sense. Esther's proximity to the device doesn't determine whether it's on, off, or higher/lower. She walks around the room with her glass of ghost juice or whatever you want to call it. She gestures with her hand when she turns it on and turns the intensity up.

Esther getting closer to him wouldn't matter since the device is already on. That is, unless she was actively doing something to him while torturing him. Considering how sadistic she is, I wouldn't put it past her to mess with him whenever she got bored of just watching. Touching him, shaking him, whatever, would almost definitely make it worse. Edwin not wanting her to get close to him would make perfect sense if she was occasionally doing something like that.

So, we have iron making him corporal, burning him, and zapping him with some kind of electricity-like energy, that are also piercing into him, and yet Edwin doesn't scream from the pain initially. There's quiet moaning that you can tell he's holding back, but he doesn't gasp or yell. This is same metal that hurt Charles so badly he couldn't escape in his angriest state. It takes hours of prolonged exposure and gradual increasing of the intensity to make him scream.

The secondary question to this whole thing is just how high is Edwin's pain tolerance that he is able to endure that while withholding making noise?

I can't comprehend it, honestly. Though Edwin spent 70 years in hell being literally torn apart over and over again. We have no idea how long he feels the sensations of his previous body after he respawns or how quickly he does so, especially since the manner of death in this case wouldn't be instantaneously fatal. If his head and heart are in some capacity intact, he'd still be alive for at least a few seconds. As Dr. Alan Grant explains to that kid about raptors in Jurassic Park, you are alive when they start to eat you. It would be believable if Edwin is basically immune to pain unless it's a fucking insane amount of it. I mean, in the Cat King's words to Esther, "Edwin has been through more pain than you, or I, could ever imagine."

That would be pretty fucking crazy if this is all true/accurate.

Is it intentional? Probably not. Could I be reading too much into it, and unintentionally hyperbolizing it? Absolutely. I'm using observation and some information about their characters that I can't actually prove to be true. Maybe I'm just seeing things with the prongs and they're not going through Edwin. I can't prove that Charles would've been angry enough to break out of restraints if they hadn't been made of iron. Maybe iron effects all ghosts differently. Who the hell knows?

Even if I'm not 100% accurate, we do at least know for sure that Edwin has a way higher pain tolerance than anybody else based on the burning hand that he didn't even notice was burning, and how long he was in that device before he started screaming, and that's badass as hell on its own.

(ko-fi)

[targaryen-dynasty]

hi bestie💕

from the 2k celebration serving list, i choose meleys! (this feels like i’m choosing a pokemon for a battle 😂)

prompt #112 “i don’t feel like sleeping” with aegon ii

🎉congratulations on reaching 2k!!!!!🎉

REDAMANCY.

Aegon II Targaryen x female Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; slightly dubious content, p in v, breeding kink

WORDS: 741

NOTES: The first time I managed to keep myself short, lmfao. Hope you like it!

It has to be way past the Hour of the Owl when you feel Aegon’s hands slowly drag over your side, his hot breath caressing the back of your neck. 

Your back is facing him, and you’re lying exactly like you did when you fell asleep – with him tightly pressed against your backside. The only difference now is that you’re feeling something very firm pressing against your arse. 

Stirring slowly, you’re releasing a deep sigh, and goosebumps follow in his hand’s wake as it pushes the skirts of your nightdress further up your legs. Despite the sheets still concealing your frame, you suddenly feel well exposed, and he hasn’t even peeled off your underclothes. 

“Go back to sleep,” you’re murmuring, voice thick with sleep. 

You can feel his nose drag along your hair, inhaling your scent, and it inevitably has you clenching your thighs together, more so when his lips settle at the curve of your shoulder. He has pushed the neckline of your nightgown to the side slightly, and an unbearable heat blossoms where his lips have met your skin before. 

His teasing, barely there touches push all the tiredness aside, and the raspy drawl in his voice ignites a fire within you. 

“I don’t feel like sleeping.”

It’s his body against yours, his scent wafting off of him, and his hand slowly inching between your legs that drive you to full consciousness. Heat starts to ignite at the apex of your legs as your mind wanders from the calmness of your sleep to your insatiable husband. 

You bite your bottom lip, trying to stifle a quiet moan. “But what if I do?”

Your husband is quick to roll you on your back, making himself at home between your legs. The display of his fervor has you chuckling. 

As he’s propped up on his arms, silver strands of hair fall into his face, framing his chiseled features. He stares down at you with a mischievous glint in his lilac eyes, and you know it means he’s up to no good. 

Dipping his head forwards, Aegon’s lips make a beeline for your neck, nibbling and sucking on your skin to the point you crane your neck to grant him more access. You care little for what the court thinks of the little bruises he leaves, and rather take pride in his display of possessiveness, in his claim on you.

“Then I would see it as my husbandly duty to convince you otherwise,” his gruff voice vibrates against your skin, slightly muffled but still perfectly clear. 

“Oh?” you whisper, turning your head to look at him and giggling softly. 

“I’m confident of my ability to convince you,” he rasps, and you’re met with a wide grin, one that all but forces you to kiss him to get it off his face. 

It’s all teeth and tongue when Aegon’s hands slowly claw at your nightgown, pushing it up to make quick work of your underclothes. You help him get you out of it, and only then notice that he’s indeed already completely bare. 

While this isn’t new to you, you still hold your breath as he sheathes himself inside you, meeting little resistance with your cunt completely soaked and filling you with one, swift thrust of his hips.  

You both moan in unison, and the pace your husband sets is quite different from the one he usually picks. Instead of thrusting and thrusting, he is rutting into you, causing the coarse, silver hairs that gather around the base of his cock to rub your pearl with every motion. 

Slinging your legs around his waist, you’re making it no easier for him to change his movements, signaling that this is exactly what you need. 

“Tonight is the night I shall put a babe in you,“ he grunts against your kiss-swollen lips. 

His earlier urgency has seemed to be not more than a mask for his despair, because as your peak washes over you in an ambush, his own follows not long after. 

But only when his hips don't falter, and his movements turn more calculated and determined, biting through the overstimulation, do you know that a long, exhausting night lies ahead of you. 

One where he won‘t stop until his hunger is satiated by filling you with as much of his seed as possible to make sure it will bear fruit, to make sure you‘ll give him the heir they‘ll anticipate sooner than later. 

Small Taglist: @heimtathurs @valeskafics @black-dread @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @hypocritic-trash-baby @connorsui @moonlightfoxx @snowystark @fan-goddess @lovelykhaleesiii

[sissylittlefeather]

It Feels So Right (how can it be wrong?): Part 1

A/N: a new 3-part mini-series that was supposed to be a one-shot but got too long 😂. This is gonna be a fun one. I hate to give too much away up here, but just know we've got Austin filming Elvis, ghost Elvis, and you...

Shoutout to my beloved @ccab for hatching this one with me one late night. I love you, bestie.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! This is gonna stay dirty. Kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~3.2k

Honestly, you're a glorified assistant. Your job has a technical title, but you spend most of your time getting coffee and running errands for anyone on set who asks you. It's very rarely the actors. Usually, you're at the whim of everyone behind the cameras. You've been graduated from college for five years and you're just waiting for your shot in the film industry. In a lot of ways, you're blessed just to be on the set of this movie, so you swallow your pride and fetch lattes for every grip and sound guy that hollers for one.

Admittedly, you don't know as much about it as you probably should, but watching the filming has you convinced this Austin Butler will be up for an Oscar. You know Elvis and this guy has him nailed. You've seen footage of him a thousand times and Austin's performance seems to line up perfectly.

What you don't know, what no one but Austin knows, is Elvis is there. He stands and watches, not far from you actually, and in crucial moments, he takes over. Usually, he doesn't leave the sanctuary of Graceland, but when he heard about this movie, he knew it was an opportunity. And when he saw Austin and his dedication to the role, he knew that he'd be open enough for him to step in when he wanted. The first time he tried it, he shifted from one foot to the other for a few seconds and jumped, not knowing exactly what would happen. He opened his eyes and looked at his hands. They were close, similar long fingers, but not quite right. His body was thinner, more cut, and his face felt different. He called for a break and made his way to a place with a mirror. When he cautiously chanced a glance, he was shocked to see Austin's face looking back at him. It worked. He knew possession was possible, he was a ghost after all, but he'd never tried it before this. After the scene was finished, he decided the experience was so satisfying, he'd try it again. So he did. Over and over again throughout the filming process Austin would wake up with no memory of doing certain scenes. He figured out quickly what was happening and didn't seem to mind, so when he turned on set and saw Elvis, he wasn't even alarmed. Elvis had been surprised to be seen after all these years, but it didn't take the two long to strike up a friendship.

By the time Elvis noticed you, he'd been talking to Austin and possessing him regularly for weeks.

You come back from your morning coffee run and set the tray on a table.

"Coffee's here, guys!" You holler to everyone whose order you diligently fetched. For some reason, this time, you catch Elvis's attention. He watches, amused, as you sarcastically deliver all the coffees.

"Who is she?" He whispers to Austin.

"I'm not sure. I think her name is y/n. She gets coffee for the behind-camera guys." Austin answers nonchalantly.

"Have you actually looked at her?"

"I'm way ahead of you, man."

"You asked her out?"

"Not yet, but-"

"What are you waiting for?!" Austin looks at Elvis exasperated.

"I've been a bit busy."

"Can I?"

"Can you what?"

"Take her out." Austin laughs quietly.

"I don't know. Can you?" Elvis sighs.

"Can I use your body, I mean?"

"To go on a date? With a living girl? I'm not sure that's a reasonable plan." Elvis nods, defeated, and Austin walks back out on set to continue filming.

But Elvis can't stop watching you. He hovers around you, longing to be seen. You have an undeniable grace that has him damn-near spellbound. Austin pretends not to notice Elvis's preoccupation with you. He has plans to ask you out himself, eventually.

But Elvis gets tired of waiting. There's not too much left to film and he doesn't want to miss his chance. So one day, he jumps into Austin to film a scene during the '68 Special and just... doesn't leave. Instead, he swallows his nervousness and walks up to you at the end of the day.

"Hi. I'm... Austin." He holds a hand out for you to shake.

"Oh, gosh, I know, I'm y/n." You can't believe one of the actors knows you exist, much less is talking to you. And it's Austin Butler in black leather.

"I've been watching you. And I- okay that sounds creepy. You're just very pretty and I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like to go out with me? Tonight?"

"Oh wow... tonight?" You have a bed with your name on it and a pizza you plan to order, but this is Austin Butler and he's asking you out.

"Yeah..." Elvis isn't going to take the chance that Austin might refuse to let him take you out.

"Sure? I mean. Yes. I'd love to go out with you." A warm smile spreads across Austin's face and you can't believe how relieved he seems. Truly, it's Elvis, but you don't know that.

"Okay! Great! Can I pick you up in a couple hours?" Elvis isn't sure how he'll stay in Austin for this long, but he's going to try his best.

You nod and give Austin your address. Then, you make your way home completely in awe of the fact that you have a date with Austin Butler tonight.

******

Later that night, there's a knock on your door and you put the last minute touches on your makeup and walk to it to open it. When you do, you're a little shocked to find Austin with his hair fixed like Elvis, in a suit with the shirt unbuttoned half way down his chest and a thick gold cross sitting on his sternum. For some reason, this outfit doesn't feel like him. And it's not; it's 100% Elvis, but you have no way of knowing that.

"You ready, doll?" Why does he even sound like Elvis?

"Yeah, lemme just grab my purse."

You spend the rest of the evening on one of the best first dates you've ever experienced. Conversation comes easily to both of you, and you think it's unbelievably endearing that he takes you to a diner, and a movie, and a roller skating rink.

You've never been good at roller skating, so you spend most of the time hanging on him and trying to keep your balance.

Elvis is in heaven. He hasn't had this much fun in almost 5 decades. And the feeling of your hands on his skin and your body pressed up against his, even if it's not exactly his, is something he's desperately missed. When it's time to take you home, he's dying to take you inside and feel more of you on him, but he doesn't want to push you or take advantage of you in any way. Instead, he walks you to the door and stands with you awkwardly under the awning of your apartment complex.

"This was really fun." You want to ask him inside, but you're not sure if that would be too slutty. Still, he's a movie star, he has to be used to that. Right?

"Yeah, it was." You notice his eyes flick down to your lips, so you turn your face up to signal that he can kiss you. Elvis gets suddenly nervous. He hasn't kissed anyone in a very long time. After a few seconds, you realize he's not going to kiss you, so you step back.

"Oh... I'm sorry..." Elvis wants to kick himself for missing the window.

"For what, doll?"

"Nothing, I just thought... it's nothing." He takes a deep breath and remembers who he is. Then, he reaches out and grabs you by the waist, pulling you into him. He crashes his lips into yours and kisses you deeply. It's weird to kiss with someone else's mouth, but it doesn't take him long to figure it out.

You revel in the fact that Austin Butler is kissing you. You.

After you make out on the porch for a good fifteen minutes, you pull back from the kiss and look up into his eyes.

"Do you... wanna come in...?"

"Can I?" Elvis is shocked that you'd ask that so soon. Then, he remembers that it's not 1956 anymore. 1969 happened... he was there... and women are different now.

"Yeah... if you want to..." You start to get nervous that maybe you've made him uncomfortable. "You don't have to-"

"Yes. Please. I'd like that." You nod and smile and turn to open the door. He swallows deeply as you lead him into your apartment. It's been a long time since he's kissed someone, but it's been even longer since he did this. And kissing is easier to do well without practice.

You turn to him and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom. Is it possible that Austin is shy? He seems a little nervous to be headed that way with you.

"Do you not want to do this?" You stand facing each other next to the bed and look up into his eyes as he nods fervently.

"I do. I really do. I just... haven't... in a while..."

"Oh. Well, that's okay." Elvis smiles with Austin's face. He reaches out and fiddles with your shirt on your shoulder. Then, he moves his hand up to your cheek and runs his thumb over your lips.

"I just never thought this would be possible."

"What do you mean?" Elvis's heart jumps.

"Oh, umm, just, I've been watching you for a long time. I didn't think you'd want to go out with me." You smile and Elvis relaxes. He leans in slowly and presses his lips to yours again. He's surprised by how easy it is to fall back into a rhythm with you as the kissing ramps up and his hands, Austin's hands, begin to roam over your body. Without thinking, he slides them up under your shirt, dragging them across your back. He wants to lift your shirt and pull it off, but again, he's not sure just how far you're willing to go. Seemingly reading his mind, you remove your shirt for him.

You're shocked at how shy Austin is. You assumed he'd take the lead, but he seems reluctant even to take your shirt off. You push his jacket off of his shoulders and it falls to the ground. Your fingers go to the buttons and you take his shirt off too.

"Wow..." It comes out of you as a whisper while you run your fingertips over Austin's rippling abdominal muscles. Elvis looks down at himself and flexes his stomach as you touch him. This is different, but seeing the way you look at him, he's not exactly complaining. Bodies like this weren't common in his day, but he's thankful for Austin's dedication to diet and exercise in this moment. Something about it boosts his confidence and he reaches behind your back to remove your bra, but his fingers fumble. He peeks over your shoulder and eventually figures it out, pulling your bra forward off of you and dropping it to the floor. His hands slide to your breasts hungrily and he realizes how much he's missed the softness of a woman's skin against him. He pulls you in close and his kisses reach a fever pitch as he begins to move his mouth down your body. You revel in the sensation of his tongue on your nipple, throwing your head back in pleasure.

He turns you and lays you down on the bed, scooting you backwards and crawling on top of you. You arch your back as he kisses your stomach gently, finally landing at the place between your bellybutton and the top of your skirt. He hooks his fingers under your waistline and looks up at you, blue eyes wide with lust.

"Can I?"

"Yes. Please." He smiles softly and slides your skirt down your legs, removing your shoes at the same time.

"Mmmm." He groans as he holds one of your feet in his hand and kisses your ankle. You have beautiful feet and this is just another thing Elvis has missed about being with a woman. He feels his erection throbbing where it presses against the fabric of his pants. This creates a new sense of urgency in him and he hooks your panties with one finger between your legs and drags them off, quickly tossing them to the side. Now you're completely naked and he just stares at you for a minute. He was right to take this chance. You're worth it.

"What?"

"Nothing. You're just incredibly beautiful. I don't think I've ever wanted a woman this badly." You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and your core. He's unbelievable and if he's not careful, he'll have you head over heels for him. You sit up and begin to unbutton his pants, but he stops you. "This first, honey. Come here." He lays with his head on your pillow and pulls you to him, situating your hips above his face. He puts both hands on your ass and pulls your clit to his lips.

"Oh, fuck!" You grab the headboard while he goes to work licking and sucking you like his life depends on it. His tongue makes tantalizing circles on your sensitive button and you want to scream it feels so good. Elvis can tell by your reaction that he hasn't lost his touch, even if he is technically using someone else's mouth to do it. You look down at Austin with his face buried in your pussy, eyes closed like he's truly enjoying what he's doing. He slides first one and then two fingers into you and pumps them in and out while his tongue moves on you fervently.

"Oh, God, Austin, I'm gonna cum!" For a second, he forgets that he's Austin and his eyes pop open, but he adjusts quickly as your orgasm slams into you and your walls pulse around his fingers. Electricity explodes in your core and shoots lightning bolts to your fingertips in exquisite waves. When you finally come back down, you fall sideways off of him and lay on the bed. He wipes his face with his hand and sits up next to you.

"How was that, doll?"

"Oh. My. God." That's all you can get out and he smiles widely. He's still got it.

He stands up next to the bed, kicks off his shoes, and drops his pants and underwear. This is the first time he's looked down at himself and seen Austin's cock. Elvis is a little in shock. Not only is it huge, it's circumcised. He hopes it'll work the same way. Before he has too much more time to think about it, though, he looks up and you're on your knees in front of him.

You hold the base of him with one hand, put the other on his ass, and lick a circle around the tip.

"Fuck, y/n." Yep, it works the same way.

You slide as much of him as you can stand into your mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat. His head falls back and his mouth opens as you continue to work on him, bouncing and sucking and running your tongue along his shaft. Elvis is in heaven with your mouth around him and as much as he never wants it to stop, he wants to feel the rest of you too. Still, he reaches down and takes a handful of your hair as you let him thrust gently into your mouth for a bit. Then, he stops and stands you up, looking down into your eyes.

"Can I make love to you?" Your heart skips. No one has ever asked you that before.

"Yes. Yes, please." You lay back down on the bed together and he lines himself up with your entrance. His heart is pounding in anticipation. It's been so long.

He begins to push into you slowly, letting you stretch to accommodate his size. You moan softly as the sensation almost overwhelms you. When he's fully filling you, he pulls back slowly and thrusts forward again, groaning at the feeling of your tightness around him. He picks up a steady pace of fucking into you and you wrap your legs around his waist. Elvis is impressed with Austin's body and his ability to thrust without getting tired. It's been a very long time since he had that kind of youthful vitality.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You cry out breathlessly as he pounds you.

"God, y/n, it's so good." He moans again and kisses you deeply, feeling his orgasm begin to build in his hips. You're teetering just on the edge too, breasts bouncing with his rhythm. His cock is perfect to hit just the right spot inside you as he drives into you.

You feel him tense up as he slams into you one last time, throwing you over the edge into oblivion as well. You throb around him as he shoots you full of his warmth and shudders his hips into you. He relaxes and sets his head on your shoulder, both of you sweating and breathing heavily. After a few seconds, he slides out of you and lays next to you on the bed.

He's dying to tell you that he's Elvis and not Austin. He wants you to know that it's him. But he's afraid that would freak you out too much, so he keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he turns to look at you and you look back into Austin's face.

"That was amazing." You say, smiling. He smiles in return.

"It really was."

"Do you wanna... stay...?" You feel like you should know better than to ask, but you do anyway. Elvis knows he can't hold onto Austin when he sleeps, though. He'd be shocked to wake up here with you with no memory of how he got here.

"I wish I could, doll, but I can't. I'd love to do this again sometime, though."

"Yeah?" He rolls over and runs his fingertips down the side of your face.

"Yes. I really would." He leans in and kisses your lips softly. Then, he sighs deeply and rolls over, getting out of bed and putting his clothes on. It doesn't seem like he wants to leave, but he does anyway. He kisses you at the door again, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you soon, doll." You think to yourself that you'll see him tomorrow at work, but you don't say that part out loud. He walks through the door and you close it softly behind him.

He stays in Austin just long enough to get him home and in bed, laying there for a bit thinking about the encounter he just had with you. Elvis hasn't had a better day in over 50 years. Finally, his eyes close and Elvis pulls himself out, letting Austin sleep.

He's nervous about how he'll react when he finds out Elvis used his body to go out with you, but what's done is done. And he has every intention of begging to let it happen again.

******

Until part 2. Thoughts?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax

[gay-dorito-dust]

The Lin Kuei trio + Raiden reacting to their usually nice, compassionate, and generally nurturing s/o suddenly looks at an enemy and goes "You have five f**king seconds before I rip open your stomach and turn your innards into a noose." And proceeds to do just that to frightening effect?

First time writing for Raiden, so hell probably be ooc and some shitty character writing to be made aware of 😂 🦦

Tomas Vrbada

Honestly didn’t see that coming.

He guessed that what he got for judging a book by it’s cover and Tomas learnt that rather fast upon seeing you destroy your opponent in frightening quick succession. So upon seeing your sweet tender smile afterwards whilst covered in blood was bone chilling to Tomas, knowing that someone so sweet, so kind, so caring and nurturing like you had the ability to switch up to a more vicious and violent version persona.

Tomas would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find you covered in someone else’s blood extremely attractive. So you best mark him down as scared and horny because holy shit.

Like Raiden, he felt the need to protect you and keep you within range of him, but that’s mainly because he’s absolutely terrified of losing you like he lost his family. So he knew that he could come across as overbearing at time when it came to keeping you safe, but you knew that it all came from a good place, and that Tomas was trying so hard to avoid a repetition of in his past to happen to you; So upon learning that you didn’t in fact need his help in keeping you safe, he allows himself to relax a little and ease off of you in fear of being the next person you pummel.

To which he knew wouldn’t be the case but that pent up anger you displayed must’ve come from somewhere.

Tomas came to accept that the hands that he came to love and admire whilst melting within their warm, tender and nurturing hold as they cupped his face, also possessed the ability to mane and destroy just as easily as they could heal and mend his broken heart and patch up his open wounds from intensive missions.

Kuai Liang

Surprised but honestly wonders where it was that you had learnt to defend yourself and in that brutal fashion.

So while everyone else was taken aback when you inevitably unleash hellfire upon your opponents to frightening effect. Kuai Liang on the other hand was only feeling sorry for the poor bastard on the receiving end of your vicious blows, they looked like they fucking hurt that Kuai Liang was for certain on.

Upon first meeting you, Kuai Liang genuinely believed that you either had no prior experience in combat, or just held a distain towards all things violent and purposefully adhere it all together; Not that he was claiming that was a bad thing. It was just a rarity to come across someone like you. To the point where Kuai Liang would often worried that someday someone would sniff this out, before then proceeding to taking advantage and manipulate you into shady business under the pretences of doing good.

He didn’t want to tarnish your kind, caring and loving nature by bringing this up in fear that it would only make you think negatively, and or ashamed of yourself, which would never ever be his primary intention. Kuai Liang was too aware of the horrible people that blended within the shadows and lurked in dark alleyways, so therefore he didn’t want you getting involved in something that would alter you into a person that you would forever hate ever becoming.

Knowing now that you could fully protect yourself if the instance ever did arrive, Kuai Liang would only become more adamant in helping you incorporate moves of self defence into your arsenal, so you’ll always be ready for near enough anything if he wasn’t able to be with you.

Bi-Han

He is proud as all hell.

While your vulgar threat made his brows raise in slight surprise but mainly curiosity, having wondered where this side chaotic and violent of you had came from, but ultimately took a sickening form of satisfaction of seeing you back up your words by utterly decimating your enemy with doing what you forewarned was about to happen; He might as well looked like an utter mad man with how much attention he was giving, good lord.

He’s giving your fighting style an close and in-depth examination, taking notes on everything that you did good and everything that you could use some improvement upon with his help as though he was locked within a high intensity game of chess! Someone was getting brutally pulverised and yet Bi-Han could only watch on with genuine intrigue on articulating methods in to making you even more deadly in combat.

He’s seen a golden opportunity and he would be stupid to let it go now.

Raiden

Scared and horny 2.0

Poor baby is taken aback by your vicious side.

However he would still hold your hand as though they were made of porcelain as he takes a wet cloth and cleans away the blood and viscera from your knuckles to take care of your bruises that lied beneath from brutally beating down your enemy. You’re still the kind, caring and nurturing person he knows and loves, you just got some added qualities that’s all!

Even though your caring and nurturing nature often made you look weak and in constant need of defending in the eyes of others, Raiden didn’t see it the way that they did. While yes he felt this obligation to keep you out of harms way and keep you close, that’s just how Raiden is as a person to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves. And that was in no way shape or form meant to be taken as him disregarding your ability to protect yourself.

That wasn’t his intention and if you did believe that were the case. Then he would have no qualms in reminding you of how much he trusts you to protect yourself, even going so far as to sight this as a major example of that. Your fighting style may be consistent of the usage of deadly and lethal force but Raiden knew that you wouldn’t willingly use it against just anybody, only using it as a method of self defence first and foremost, unless further provoked into engaging in a full altercation.

Much like Tomas, Raiden probably also thought that you being covered in someone else’s blood was attractive in it’s own regard.

[comatosebunny09]

When you say he (Astarion) is nervous about initiating a kiss with you/Tav, I see him pacing back and forth by the fire clearly not acting like himself until you/Tav tell him to call his tits.

Lmfao at the “calm his tits.” 😂😂😂

The deer you’re whittling is no longer interesting.

Instead, you’re intrigued by your love, wearing a path into the soil around the fire with how much he’s paced back and forth.

Your lips twitch into a smile. Whatever’s bothering him, you’ll get to the heart of it. It’s unlike Astarion to be so anxious. The knit between his brows doesn’t suit his handsome face.

You set your carving knife down, leaning back on your hands, feet dangling from the log. “Astarion,” you caution over the crackling fire.

His shoulders tense. It’s like he’s been caught indulging in a naughty secret. He doesn’t meet your gaze, too busy running jittery fingers through his hair. He dons that mask of nonchalance. You see right through it.

“Yes, love?”

You pat the space beside you. Your tone leaves no room for argument. “Come sit.”

Silence stretches between you, save for the ballad of the katydids inhabiting the forest around. The air is so tense, you could cut through it with a blade.

You raise a brow when his lips tremble around a reply. It never comes. Your stomach plummets. Maybe something truly is troubling him.  

With a drop of his shoulders and a sigh, Astarion wanders to you, plopping down on the log. A good bit of distance rests between you. He’s rigid, avoiding your gaze at all costs. It’s hard not to when you look at him like that. A mixture of hurt and curiosity that makes something twinge in his chest.

Did you do something? Say something to offend him? You browse through the catalog of your mind for answers. Other than your usual banter, you can’t think of a single instance where you’ve done something to set him off.  

You’ve called him beautiful. Touched him with explicit permission. Acknowledged his boundaries. So…why?

Warily, you inch closer until your thighs brush. Astarion stiffens even more, a strained sound pinched from his throat. You contemplate backing off, but…well, something tells you to press on tonight. At least with subtle advances.

Maybe he needs this.

Absently, your pinky smooths over the back of his hand on his thigh. Some silent encouragement. Something is eating away at him, but you’d rather he reveal it in his own time.

No sense in trying to squeeze blood from a stone.

“I—” begins Astarion, wheedling through the mess of your thoughts.

You turn hopeful eyes to him, quizzically tilting your head. Grow a little bolder, gently placing your hand over his. Angle yourself closer, urging him to continue.

He wears something of a pout. Looks at the ground, a little contemplative, a little annoyed. It’s cute. Better than the somberness he wore before.

His eyes flit back to you, and the air is siphoned from your lungs. You’ll never get used to those eyes. The beauty they possess, the love they seem to exude only for you.

Astarion engulfs your hand with his. Takes a deep breath, as if he’s about to reveal all the world’s secrets.

Finally, he ventures, “I…want to kiss you.”

You blink. Relief surges through your chest. The rigidness you once held sloughs off, replaced by a pitying smile.

Is that all?

“Alright,” you say. Quickly shift to angle your cheek towards him.

You anticipate the brush of cold lips against your skin. Something chaste and abrupt to make your body hum with affection. To leave it aching for more.

But it never comes.

Instead, you’re met with a chuckle. An arctic finger slips beneath your chin, encouraging your gaze to return to your beloved.

“No, darling,” he softly chides. “Not like that.”

You stare at him, bemused.

There’s a humored crinkle in his eye. Sluggishly, he etches a triangle between your eyes and lips with his darkening gaze. Thumb cruises over your chin, and your lips instinctively part.

Realization settles on your shoulders. Your mouth forms around a quiet oh.

It would be your first time kissing like this in a very long time. You’ve never pushed him further than the graze of your lips on his cheek, knuckles, or the crown of his head. So, pardon you for being a little out of sorts.

A little giddy.

You find your wits scattered amongst the clouds. Feel like you’re dreaming as the forest and campfire dwindle into beautiful bokeh around you.

“A-Alright. I would…like that,” you wistfully murmur. Unconsciously, you crane your body closer, your lids drooping under the weight of his spell.

Astarion sifts through the haze and leans closer, your cheek cupped adoringly in his palm. Your hand clasps around his wrist, the other scrunched in your lap.

You’ve but milliseconds to admire the curl of his lashes before his mouth descends on yours. Pillow-soft and gentle, and you pour the deftest sound into his body.

He breaks away before you’ve any time to lose yourself in the suppleness of his lips. You whine softly, chewing on your lip whilst he chuckles. You yearn for more. Always do.

But you’ll settle for this, idly stroking his wrist with your thumb as he presses your foreheads together, appearing weightless with a youthful smile rounding his lips.

[diejager]

may i ask what's your thoughts on yandere horangi but like specifically just him (Konig excluded pls and thank you 😂)

Yandere Horangi

Headcanon

Pairing: Yan!Horangi x reader

Cw: yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour, DARKFIC, non-con touching, punishment, forced relationship, tell me if I missed anything. Wc: 694

Horangi’s a cold and sarcastic guy, but Yan!Horangi has the added bonus of being mean and stupidly possessive.

Yan!Horangi could be laughing at something you did, be it a clumsy mistake or something he deemed ridiculous. He confronts you, glaring down at you with narrowed eyes filled with dark intent, something dangerous that has you shuddering, but you can’t talk back to him when he looks so menacing in his get up: mask pulled up to his nose, eyes gleaming under his red-rimmed glass, hood shrouding his face in darkness and his body exhuming death with his simple and minimalistic choice of clothes.

Yan!Horangi is cruel with his remarks, he demeans you, breaks you down for him to build up to something more profitable, more likeable to him. He prefers doing things hands-on, as he’s always done, moving you around as he deems fit, one hand on your shoulder, on your waist or the small of your back, anywhere he can touch you.

Yan!Horangi might be means and degrading, but it’s his way of showing KorTac who you belong to. As stated previously, he’s very physical, he isn’t shy of publicly touching you, manhandling you to his pleasure in front of his coworkers, uncaring of your enflamed and shamed flushed cheeks. He’s not bothered by how embarrassed and undignified you feel, you scratch and hiss, fight him whenever you can. He likes the fight, that feisty gleam in your eyes when you glare at him through your lashes and pouty lips, staring up at him with a subtle tremor.

Despite Yan!Horangi’s usual rough handling, he can be gentle, helpful and insightful. He might help you master or better understand a certain skill. If you have issues with a certain gun, he’d stand behind you, chest flushed to your back, hip to ass and him breathing down your neck. He takes training very personally, he expects you to commit to mind every word, every advice and every compliment, but he knows he’s demanding too much from you. He’s easy to understand, teaching with simple wording and visual cues to follow.

That, however, doesn’t stop Yan!Horangi from punishing you if you do something wrong, pulling you to his room to reprimand you for disappointing him. He has you kneeling before him, hands on your thighs, eyes downcast and lower lip pulled between your teeth. It’s a power play for him, to show you who’s in control in this self-proclaimed relationship he forced you into.

Yan!Horangi treats you as a pet behind closed doors, holding you on his lap, fingers carding through your hair and making you abide to his many rules. He’s finicky about it, easy to anger when you’re not doing things by his book. Although he has a few dozens, he only pushes for a few: don’t let other people touch you; don’t talk to anyone for too long; don’t spend too much time with someone who isn’t him, especially alone; don’t forget that you belong to him; and don’t forget to listen to his words. He’s especially hard on you to let people know that you’re his.

Yan!Horangi doesn’t want to be cared for, he has the money, the strength and the independence to live on his own, learning from his past gambling issues. He wants to care for you, that’s all he truly wants, to love and care for his little pet. Despite his wish to lock you up, to keep you to himself and deprive the world of your presence, he’s whimsically desperate, like a feline marking its possession, he likes when you smile, your crazed gleam when you return from a successful mission with him or another operator.

After all, Yan!Horangi is as in love with you sweet and submissive side, obediently listening to him after he pinned you to the ground, hissing at you, as he’s obsessed with your feral smirk, grinning as you cleave a man in half with a bloodthirsty gleam in your eyes, staring at him. You’re his pretty, pedigree cat, clean and posh, listening to him when he asked, yet bratty when you felt like it.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia

[astro-rainbow777]

Astrology Observations

Volume I

Disclaimer: Please take these with a grain of salt as I am not a professional. These are just some of my observations I’ve seen from studying random people in my life. I hope you enjoy💕

💐I know someone at work with a Taurus stellium and one of her Hinge posts says her love language is gifts, and said (jokingly I hope) that she would preform sexual favors for a guy if he bought her m&m’s lmao. She also was hooking up with this guy at our work, that she had no intentions on dating, and would get sooooooo possessive if she saw him talking to any other girl. She also talks about being possessive all the time with her “play” friends ;)

🍬 I have my 6th house and Taurus and work with sooooo many Taurus placements. I chart 75% of my coworkers and the ones I talk to the most have Taurus placements, kinda cool.

❤️‍🔥As a Scorpio Moon I’ve found myself really drawn to and appreciative of the Aries Moon nature. They are so direct & assertive with how they feel. I appreciate this so much because I don’t ever feel the need to worry if they are hiding anything from me. Especially when you really get to know an Aries moon, what you see is what you get. They also validate and encourage me to express my big feelings which makes me feel so safe! As a lot of you know Scorpio Moons can be very secretive with our feelings because they can be so big and scary to others. The last thing we want to feel is ashamed for how we feel things and Aries moons get that, and they genuinely don’t hold a grudge against you for anything you say whenever you’re emotional. Just having that type of energy in a connection makes healing and growing in a relationship 10 times easier for us! Thank you sm to the Aries Moons out there! Just to add the 2 Aries Moons I am close with have Scorpio in their personal placements as well….if you don’t relate maybe that’s why lol

👽Scorpio & Virgo in big 3 🤝 Being the most observant people you will ever meet in your life! They pick up on the teeniest little things ever, for ex. If you have a stain or wrinkle anywhere on your clothes that’s the first thing they will pick up on. Also this combination is usually not a fan of change from my experience. Like if you move something from the “correct” place 4 inches over they will be like “Why are touching my shiz brah?”-Never fails. They like the routines and the consistency. They will literally spot a bird 10 yards away and be like omg is that a gRey-WIngEd trUmPetER?!?!! And I’m like how??? How did you even? These people notice everything, probably a great investigator too-same with Gemini/Scorpio placements!

♟️I promise you Virgo placements care about doing something “correctly/right” more than you do- even whenever it doesn’t directly effect them. They are so funny in the way that they operate I love them 😂 If you ask a Virgo to hang up a picture on the wall- please make sure you have a leveler!!!! They will spend 15 minutes minimum making sure that it’s even, if you don’t provide the necessary tools they will rehang something until it is perfection! Once a Virgo was doing a double nose piercing on me and kept redoing the mark of where she was going over and over and over again just to make sure it was perfectly even with my other piercing. Which I appreciated but I could tell if I left the shop with a lop sided nose ring it was going to bother her more than it would me! Very Wholesome peeps- ily guys fr 💙

☮️Gemini Venus’ do tend to be pretty loyal from my experience- but if they are bored or in an unfulfilling partnership they have the tendency to mentally cheat like doing tarot readings to see if their ex still thinks about them type of shh 😭Also the type to gossip about their partner or make up rumors about their relationship. Then they go home to their boo and act like nothing is wrong? 7th house Gemini tho can be very flighty whenever it comes to intimacy (I have this placement)- I am extremely loyal but if me and my partner get into a fight I’m prepared to break up always. I have a 7th stellium tho so I’m not sure how y’all would relate or not 💗

🏖️Leo moons NEED a creative outlet in order to be emotionally fulfilled imo! They thrive having their own little show-from what I’ve seen with these guys they love having a hobby they can share with the world and regularly be the center of attention. No joke-these people are some of the most talented beings I have met in my life! They 100% have a gift or a niche they get a lot of positive attention for and desire to share with the world. Every Leo moon I have been close with loves to perform for their loved ones- it is so wholesome like they are sharing a part of their soul with you⛲️

🐟Heavy 12th house placements (mainly Mercury & Venus) read poetry regularly or relate a lot to poetry. Even if it’s like little Tik tok or instagram posts. I’ve also noticed these guys like to just have books-even if they don’t read regularly? I lived with a 12th house Mercury w/ Neptune in the 1st house and they like to read poetry but only whenever they are depressed. I think that this individual in particular also just really likes for other people to think that they are super poetic themselves. They like to talk about poetry and the arts but I’ve lived with them for almost a year and they rarely do artsy things. Venus in the 12th though genuinely loves poetry and regularly reads it. Venus in 12th is also BEAUTIFUL AF but thinks they have nothing to offer most of time? Like I don’t understand. Blind to their own beauty but so quick to see everyone else’s. Angels 😇

🦀As a Cancer stellium (Mars, Venus, Jupiter) in the 8th, I have lied to people about how I am feeling, or what I am doing as a form of emotional protection. I used to rarely let my friends and family know how I am doing-especially if I’m doing bad. I regularly feel bad for being upset with others, and it leads me to just completely abandon emotional honesty if I don’t think someone will take to my feelings/boundaries well. I AM SENSITIVE AND DELICATE and I’m also damn good at hiding it for I have thine Scorpio Moon in 12th🧚‍♀️ People only know what I want them to know- I’m in therapy guys! So please don’t worry about me 🥸

🌝P.S. happy cancer season reeeeee

I hope you enjoyed my first lil observation!!!🎉

I encourage feed back and kind constructive criticism! Please lmk how you felt and how you relate! Let’s connect! Let’s talk! Mwah 💋

Ty sm for reading 💕

-Kya

⬇️FEAST YOUR EYES FOR THIS IS MY NATAL<3

🌈 I LOVE RAINBOWS 😇

[mrs-gauche]

Let's talk (some more) about the Red Lyrium Idol

So, if there's anyone who actually read all of this and is for some reason still interested in even more ramblings, here is Part 2 of my way too long tinfoil theory/summary post about the red lyrium idol, and I swear, it's the last one. 😂 Again, I just needed to get this out before we might get the first real trailer TOMORROW and I'm proven completely wrong, because that's just so funny to me. lol

(Note: This post was written before the title of DA4 was changed into "The Veilguard", so the implications of this title for the narrative were not taken into account for any of this. 💀)

The Phylactery Theory

"A phylactery is a vessel, often a glass vial, containing the essence of a magical being. The Circle of Magi and the Chantry use small phylacteries filled with blood, to track down mages that turn apostate."

"Phylacteries, ironically, are a form of blood magic. When a templar wishes to track down a fugitive mage they will use the phylactery as a way of homing in on the fugitive by way of a "hot and cold" situation, i.e., the phylactery glows, becoming brighter the closer it gets to its respective mage."

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin described the idol to feel rather heavy, like there was "liquid inside". In the 2018 teaser, we see glowing cracks creeping up the idol's surface.

Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

(- Solas when talking about blood magic)

In DAO, the Arcane Warrior specialization can be unlocked while doing the "Nature of the Beast" quest line, in the Lower Ruins of the Brecilian Ruins, south the Elven Burial Chamber. Inside a small chamber which looks like a ruined library, there is a broken stone altar. A phylactery is hidden in the far corner of the room. When you touch the phylactery you experience the memories of an elven arcane warrior who has remained trapped inside of the phylactery for centuries. It offers to teach you the secrets of the arcane warriors in exchange for setting its spirit free by placing the phylactery on an ancient altar.

In the "The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" poem in JOH, there is an idol that seems to possess a spirit that is connected to a demon wolf in a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol/spirit are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

The Black Vials are six small glass phylacteries that can be found around Ferelden. When the Warden takes a vial, the glass fractures and releases a hostile revenant. A revenant is a form of undead that is created when a powerful demon, usually that of desire or pride, possesses a corpse. Upon their death, each revenant drops a scrap of vellum/codex entry that reads:

"Bound by your true name, no mortal hand shall reach you."

In the Tevinter Nights story "Genitivi Dies at the End", Rasaan and the Qunari were searching for Solas' "true name".

In the final chamber of the Solasan temple, there's an ancient inscription that reads:

Faintly carved into the stone is a figure bound in chains. Two other figures have turned their gaze from the central image. "Pride in our accomplishments and in our hearts. That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him, he sought to claim (indecipherable), cast from favor and so he was bound." "Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within."

A codex about an encounter with a revenant, 5:71 Exalted:

"[…] The descriptions of the creature's abilities were eerily similar to those our brothers at Marnas Pell encountered almost a century ago […]"

Solas' hideout in The Missing was located in the Deep Roads beneath Marnas Pell.

Cole's comments in Trespasser suggest that Solas was bound to Mythal.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

While Solas seemed to have burned her vallaslin off his face, could there be a chance that he is still bound to Mythal by his true name? Could it be that he is still bound to whatever part of Mythal is trapped within the idol?

Again, the ancient spirit in DAO can only be freed from the phylactery if it is placed on an ancient altar.

So, the question is, if the idol is indeed a phylactery containing Solas'/Mythal's blood and a part of her spirit that needs to be placed on its original location/altar to free her, and if it was ripped off its original location, then where did it originally belong?

The Place Where It All Began

In 2018, we got the first DA4 teaser, showing the idol in various close-ups as well as the focal point of this mural.

Look at how the idol is suspiciously placed in the very center of the circle/tambourine which we assume to represent the Veil.

Now, what else sits at the center of the Fade that is ever present and visible but cannot be reached?

Right, the Black City.

Again, the idol is very likely depicting Mythal's death.

Now, tell me, where do you think was Mythal murdered?

Or rather, where do you think did the Blight originate?

I'm convinced that the Black/Golden City is/was Arlathan. The place where the false gods were imprisoned when Solas created the Veil. The idol/blade was likely forged after Mythal died. The 2022 cinematic clearly shows that the Blight started to spread from the center of the Golden City before it turned black and began to consume the rest of the world, but seemed to have then been contained by the Veil preventing it from spreading further.

"Had I not created the Veil, the Evanuris would have destroyed the entire world."

Corypheus is physically covered in red lyrium. We can assume that he turned into a blighted creature when he entered the Black City, which was already black and corrupted when they opened its gates.

Red lyrium only began appearing throughout the surface of all of southern Thedas in crystalline nodes following the opening of the Breach.

In Future Redcliffe, a year has past with the Breach still open and the red lyrium has spread everywhere.

It is proven that the Veil is inedvitably getting weaker alltogether, and that it will eventually come down at some point, regardless of Solas' actions.

The Veil getting weaker correlates with the Blight spreading further. If the root of the Blight lies within the Black City, and if the Blight was contained/prevented from spreading further through the creation of the Veil, and if the seven Old Gods are connected to the seven imprisoned, tainted Evanuris and serve as seals to the seven gates/mirrors of the Black City, then this banter and these visuals make a lot of sense:

Seven semi-circles with two of them still “lit” and the “tambourine”/Veil looking more broken with each new update….

Seven Old Gods/Evanuris that were banished when Solas created the Veil…..

Seven mirrors shattering….

Seven gates of the Black City, which Kordillus Drakon prophesied will someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness….

Solas: Your Order… the Grey Wardens… Blackwall: What about them? Solas: The Wardens see themselves as the world's defense against the Blight, do they not? Blackwall: Yes… why do you sound so skeptical? Doesn't everyone know this? Solas: When an Archdemon rises, they slay it. What will they do when all the Archdemons are slain? Blackwall: Retire? Solas: Without Archdemons, there can be no Blights. Is that the reasoning? Blackwall: Right. Where are you going with this? Solas: Nowhere. I hope they are correct.

Varric: Give [the Grey Wardens] some credit, it's not like you can study the Blight safely. I may not like everything they've done, but without the wardens, we'd all be blighted by now. Solas: They've bought us some time, I will grant them that.

DA4 will likely be set ten year after the events of DAI. And the Veil has gotten even weaker/Solas might succeed in tearing it down.

In Tevinter Nights, Solas claims that whatever he's going to do will "save this world".

Maybe the idol will solely be used to destroy the Veil and merge the World and the Fade, in order for him to, quote, "casually reshape reality".

BUT, you know what was proven to be the ultimate power source for Dreamers to reshape reality in a time before the Veil?

Say it with me.....

Great. Dragon. Blood.

So let's go back and assume that the idol is a phylactery that contains some part of Mythal/blood and that Solas is somehow still bound to by his true name. Mythal was likely murdered in the Black City, which might've also been the catalyst for the Blight. Solas might want to enter the Black City with the idol. Again, the ancient spirit in Origins can only be freed from the phylactery if it is placed on an ancient altar.

So… What if Solas plans to bring the idol back to its original location and free her spirit?

The Mother's Return

"Why did Mythal come to you?" "For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens."

At last, let me put on the tinfoil hat one final time and break this all down.

*takes deep breath*

The fact that it is Mythal's mosaic that is revealed to be on the platform in that final fight with Corypheus (symbolically surrounded by red lyrium!), the same ruins that were once the foundations of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

The Sacred Ashes of Andraste, which possesses healing qualities "unsurpassed by even the most powerful spells".

Andraste, who was said to be too weak to bear children, but then miraculously was able to give birth to two daughters later in life. Almost like something came into her life that enabled her to do so. Like, for example, drinking the blood of a Great dragon.

Andraste, who might have not only been a mage, but also an Old God Baby like Kieran, carrying the soul of Dumat.

Old God souls, which a certain person seems to be particularly interested in collecting.

Not the Maker, but Mythal being drawn to Andraste's Old God soul, like a moth to a flame.

Andraste becoming Mythal's host, but that host ultimately burned at the stake, so she had to find another one.

Fast forward a few hundred years. Mythal has found another host in Flemeth, who just so happens to make a bargain with Calenhad Theirin, making him, again, drink the blood of a Great dragon, to gain special powers, leading him to become the first king of Ferelden.

So she watches the Theirin bloodline, until the fateful day Alistair gets almost killed at Ostagar. So she swoops in again, nudging the course of history by saving Alistair and the HOF.

Next up is Hawke, whom she saves so Hawke could find the idol and free Corypheus, setting the events of DAI in motion.

In DAI, if the Inquisitor drinks from the Well of Sorrows and you listen very carefully to the super creepy background noises while playing the audio backwards, the voices of the Well will tell you to "Stop her" and something else that sounds like "She speaks the Calling".

The Calling. A voice, a song, dreams that will haunt the Grey Wardens. Just like a certain idol does.

The Calling, which will force the Grey Wardens to go mad and join the Darkspawn as a collective hivemind to wake the Old Gods, but only after they consumed the Archdemon's blood in the Joining.

A being controlling people as a hivemind?

Like the Titans guiding their children like a collective mind? Titans, whom Mythal was the first to kill and mine their blood and something else to create bodies for her own people.

"The First of my People do not die so easily." (- Solas in Trespasser)

An Archdemon cannot be killed, because their soul will just transfer to the nearest soulless darkspawn. Transfering the soul. The secret of effective immortality.

How do you kill an Archdemon?

By drinking their blood, slaying them and taking in their soul.

What is an Archdemon/Old God?

A dragon.

What WAS Mythal?

"The new ones are faithful to Mythal, but do not understand what she was in her fullness."

Mythal's entire image is based on that of a dragon, a form that in ancient times was reserved for the gods. Because before the Veil, it was the dragon's blood that gave those dreamers the power to shape reality, so powerful that they came to be worshiped as gods. But, I think, not only had Mythal the chief role in the pantheon because she had great dragon blood within her, but because…

Her true form IS actually a motherflippin dragon.

So. What did the Evanuris do in order to KILL Mythal?

They slayed her, drank her blood and each of the seven obtained a part of her soul, but instead of getting killed themselves, they sought to become essentially invincible through both Mythal's blood and the tainted Titan blood/red lyrium.

Let me quote this wonderful post by @virlath from a few years ago.

With her conquering of the titans, I think it’s likely that her blood is a part of the blight and the red lyrium corruption. Mythal ran the elves' lyrium operations. She had a connection to the titans and their children. She also stole knowledge of the Void from Andruil. Combining all this knowledge it makes sense that she could use this to her advantage once she was imprisoned and corrupted, because she had a connection to both dragon's blood and lyrium. She just needed a physical aspect- Flemeth, and now Solas, to act out her plans. The use of dragon fire in Dark Fortress is further indication that the combination of dragons and lyrium results in a massive power nexus. I think it’s possible that red lyrium is simply lyrium tainted with dragon's blood. More specifically, Mythal's blood. This is why dragons were strictly reserved for the evanuris in ancient elvhen times- because the key to their immortality and power was dragons and more specifically, great dragon's blood. Mythal had strict rules about taking on the form of 'divinity’. I think this was likely because dragons and dragon fire/dragon's blood was the true source of the evanuris' power, and is what allowed them to appear immortal. This could explain why the old gods are so inexplicably linked to the evanuris in the lore. I think the evanuris each had a dragon- an old god, and they each used dragon's blood and dragon fire to make their dreams into literal reality. No one could infiltrate their dreams because only they had access to the power of dragons, which they claimed was their right.

Before BioWare settled on dragons, the Archdemons were supposed to look very different.

Meaning that, each of the seven Old God souls…. is what?

Yeah, I think it's all Mythal's.

Again, WHAT did the voices of the Well tell the Inquisitor? WHO speaks the CALLING?

It's the voice of the one who's the real owner of that soul. The one who for centuries has been trying to gather the scattered pieces of HER SOUL, driven by nothing but vengeance.

"So Mythal endures."

If the idol contains a part of Mythal, and if Solas used the idol/blade to trick the Evanuris like in Dalish legends, maybe it was because they were desperate to destroy the idol and get rid of Mythal once and for all.

Remember the visions described in Trespasser.

“Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!“ “In this place we prepare to hunt the pillars of the earth. Their workers scurry, witless, soulless. This death will be a mercy. We will make the earth blossom with their passing.” “The runes say the Evanuris fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium and… something else. It’s not clear.” “They made bodies from the earth. And the earth was afraid. It fought back. But they made it forget.” "For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire." “For one moment, there is a vivid image of two overlapping spheres; unknown flowers bloom inside their centers. Then it fades.”

A sphere of fire… you mean, like the SUN? You mean, Mythal actually creating a MOON, just like in Dalish mythology?

Bear with me here.

We established that Mythal mined the Titan's blood, which I believe was then used for centuries in combination with her fire to create bodies for her own people/spirits. On top of that, I believe that, after her victory, Mythal used part of a dead Titan and lifted it into the sky to use it as a "cornerstone" to build the capital city of Elvhenan, Arlathan, on top of her "enemy's corpse".

I believe that in the moment of Mythal's death, her blood altered the Titan's blood (which also sundered the Song) and that something happened to the moon that she had created, which in turn led to the unbridled power of the sun to corrupt part of the Titan that the Golden City, Arlathan, was build on, as well as both their blood. And that's when it turned black. That's when the Blight was created.

Elgar'nan is the God of the Sun in Dalish mythology. He was likely the main instigator behind the Evanuris' betrayal and Mythal's murder.

The sun imagery keeps appearing throughout DA4's promotional stuff.

If the Old God Lusacan is connected to Elgar'nan, they would represent two polar opposites. The God of the Sun and the God of Night and Darkness. Again, Kordillus Drakon prophesied that the seven gates of the Black City would someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness.

"All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign."

“Lusacan, the Dragon of Night, calls to you. He lives where it is darkest and waits for the day he will rise. Drink of his blood and know the power in darkness: either fear the Night or wield it.“ "The darkspawn yearn to awaken and corrupt Lusacan to start a new age of darkness.” “A night that will never end”

But why does this need to happen? Because Mythal needs to act out her vengeance upon the ones who murdered her and doomed the world with the creation of the Blight.

"She was betrayed as I was betrayed! As the world was betrayed!" "Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!"

Solas wants to save his people no matter what, and for that, the Veil needs to be torn down, resulting in the World and the Fade becoming one again…

But, to truly restore his People, I believe that he needs the Mother to come back.

Mythal represents both Justice and Vengeance. If justice is corrupted, it will turn into vengeance. Solas makes no difference between spirits and demons.

"I am sorry as well, old friend."

That last line of Flemythal to Solas. It's so simple, but what does it truly mean? Why is she apologizing to him?

Is it because none of this would have happened if she didn't die and everything that happened to the people and the world was because of her downfall? Because it was her who started all this in the first place with the death of the Titans, stealing their hearts and corrupting their blood?

With her gone and no one left to keep the false gods in check, if it hadn't been for her death, Solas wouldn't have been left with what seemed to be the only choice?

Is she sorry for everything he had to endure, from her giving him a body against his will, twisting his original purpose, to him having to live with the guilt over the death of a world and an entire civilization for a thousand years?

Or is she apologizing for using him?

"An eclipse as Fen'Harel stirred."

"Cry havoc in the moonlight. Let the fire of vengeance burn. The cause is clear." (- Solas reciting Mythal's invication)

She knew that Solas would do anything at this point to undo his mistakes and save the people he doomed. She knew exactly what Solas would do when he came to her in that after credits scene in DAI. She knew that he would need that power and the idol to complete his ritual in order to tear down the Veil, but to what end?

Without the Veil, whoever controls the dreams controls reality.

[thyras]

→ of finer tastings (bonus chapter)

PAIRING → mairon | sauron x female!elf!reader

WORD COUNT → 9.3k words

SERIES → of sauron & the moriquendi

WARNINGS → 18+ only MDNI - unprotected p in v, oral (male & fem receiving), fingering, degradation (he calls her a whore), exhibitionism, masturbation, rough sex

SUMMARY → there is no greater taste than when the one you love falls apart over you.

AUTHORS NOTE → i broke the next part into two as well because i had an idea for the second part to kind of make it something else that i wanna work on. but i feel like this was my magnum opus when it came to writing smut. i really did not hold myself back like i usually do cause i tend to shy away from ‘things’. still have not finished next chapter so…yeah. i get distracted okay 😂

masterlist // series playlist // mood board

After peeling yourselves away from your marital bliss, you both went your separate ways and began your day. You had spent most of the morning teaching your lessons by the river, where the children had eagerly scurried off to the water’s edge, content to play in Sirion’s crystal waters. Leaning back on your hands, you basked in the sun’s warm glow against your skin, savoring the soft, fragrant breeze and the sweet melodies of childhood laughter.

A presence stirred behind you. Turning, you saw Eärlindë striding toward you, a basket of soiled linens in her hands. You offered her an inviting smile, and she returned it before settling beside you, sinking into the blossoms and tilting her face toward the sun’s warmth.

Eärlindë set her basket of linens aside and turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So," she drawled, her tone laced with playful innuendo, "how was your night with that delicious husband of yours?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I trust he made good on his promise to ravish you senseless?"

A fierce blush bloomed across your cheeks at her teasing words, memories of Mairon's passionate attentions still fresh in your mind—and body. You ducked your head, biting your lip in a vain attempt to suppress the giddy smile threatening to spill across your face. "Eärlindë! You are impossible," you chided, though your breathy giggle betrayed your lack of true annoyance.

Your friend merely smirked, utterly unrepentant. "Oh, come now, Tintilmë. You cannot expect me to ignore the glow of a well-satisfied woman." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Besides, after the delicious tension between Mairon and Lord Curufin last night, I simply must know how your golden smith staked his claim."

Despite the heat suffusing your cheeks, you couldn't suppress the shiver of delight that raced down your spine at the memory. Mairon had been insatiable, worshipping your body with a reverent ferocity that left you boneless and utterly spent. The possessive fire in his eyes as he marked your skin, the low growl of mine on his lips with every thrust—it had been a claiming in the most primal of ways.

You sighed, lost in the delicious recollection of Mairon's ardent attentions. "It was… intense," you admitted, your blush deepening. "Mairon was determined to leave no doubt in my mind—or my body—about whom I belong to. He worshipped me for hours, driving me to the brink of madness again and again until I was hoarse from screaming his name."

Eärlindë fanned herself theatrically, her eyes sparkling with mirth and a hint of envy. "It seems our golden lord was quite thorough in his amorous vengeance." She leaned in closer, her expression turning sly. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to share any delectable details? A lady has to live vicariously, you know."

You swatted at her playfully, laughing even as you shook your head. "Eärlindë, you are incorrigible! A lady does not kiss and tell." Your eyes twinkled with mischief, despite your halfhearted attempt at propriety.

Eärlindë heaved an exaggerated sigh, her full lips forming an adorable pout. "Alas, you are too good, my friend, leaving me to wither away in unquenched curiosity."

Her dramatics coaxed another giggle from your lips, and you bumped your shoulder against hers affectionately. "Oh hush, you. As if you are truly suffering." Your gaze turned sly as you arched a knowing brow. "I seem to recall a certain dark-haired minstrel who was vying rather ardently for your attention last night."

Eärlindë’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink at the mention of the handsome minstrel, though her eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Ah yes, Ereinion. He is quite persistent in his pursuit." She plucked a small white blossom from beside her, twirling it between her slender fingers. "And not unskilled with his silver tongue. The songs he weaves could charm the very stars from the sky."

You grinned, delighted by this new development. Eärlindë was no blushing maiden—she had had her share of admirers over the years. But few had managed to hold her interest for long. This Ereinion must be special indeed to put such a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Do tell, mellon," you urged, shifting to face her fully. "Has our lovely songbird managed to pluck at your heartstrings with his dulcet tones?"

Eärlindë laughed, a musical sound that mingled pleasantly with the gentle rush of the river. "Perhaps a little," she admitted, her eyes softening with a faraway look. "He is different from the others who have sought my favor. There is a depth to him, a quiet intensity beneath the charming exterior. When he looks at me, I feel as though he sees into my very soul."

You reached over to clasp her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "He sounds wonderful, Eärlindë. Your heart has been too long without a worthy companion." You smiled warmly. "I should like to meet this minstrel who has so enraptured my dearest friend."

Eärlindë returned your smile, squeezing your hand gratefully. "And you shall, mellon. Perhaps we could arrange a small gathering—just the four of us. I would love for you and Mairon to meet Ereinion properly, away from the prying eyes of my parents.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of them.

You chuckled knowingly. All elven parents were invested in their child’s love life until they were safely married off, and Eärlindë’s mother, Eäriel, was no exception. She had even taken up the mantle with you at times, though never as insistently as she did with her own daughter.

"That sounds perfect," you agreed, squeezing her hand once more before leaning back on your hands again. The river sang softly in the background, the sun warming your skin as the laughter of children echoed along the banks.

You and Eärlindë sat in companionable silence for a time, enjoying the peaceful beauty of the riverbank and the carefree play of the children. Eventually, duty called you both back—Eärlindë to her pile of linens and you to shepherd your young students back for their afternoon lessons. With a parting smile and a promise to plan the gathering with Ereinion soon, you went your separate ways.

The rest of the day passed in a pleasant blur of teaching, tending to household tasks, and stealing the occasional secret smile as your thoughts drifted to memories of the previous night's passion with Mairon. By the time early evening cast its rosy glow over the valley, you found yourself practically humming with anticipation to be back in your husband's arms.

As if conjured by your yearning thoughts, you spotted Mairon's tall, broad-shouldered form striding through the city center from the window in the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, his coppery hair catching the golden light of early evening like a halo of fire. Mairon moved with the easy grace of a predator—powerful, purposeful strides that ate up the distance. Even from a distance, you could feel the magnetic pull of his presence, the way he commanded attention without even trying.

Quickly wiping your hands on a cloth, you hurried to the front door, a giddy smile already tugging at your lips. You flung it open just as Mairon reached the threshold, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. Without a word, he swept you into his arms, kicking the door shut behind him as he claimed your lips in a searing kiss.

You hummed in delight against his lips as Mairon devoured your mouth with passionate kisses, his strong arms holding you flush against his powerful body. The scent of smoke and metal that always clung to him after a day at the forge filled your senses, a heady, masculine aroma that was uniquely Mairon. You loved him like this—fresh from his craft, still thrumming with the primal energy of creation, his skin heated from more than just the fires of the forge.

When the need for air finally forced you apart, Mairon rested his forehead against yours, his emerald eyes blazing with love and desire. "I missed you today, sweet one," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual rasp that sent shivers down your spine. "The hours dragged endlessly, and all I could think about was returning to your arms."

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing the chiseled lines of Mairon's jaw. "I missed you too, my love," you murmured. "The day always seems brighter when I know I will soon be back in your embrace."

Mairon turned his head to press a lingering kiss to your palm, his lips curved in a tender smile against your skin. "You are my light, Mori."

Your heart clenched at the raw emotion in his voice, the depth of his love and devotion laid bare in those simple words. Rising onto your toes, you brushed a sweet, gentle kiss across his lips. "And you are mine, Mairon. My heart, my home, my everything."

Mairon's arms tightened around you, holding you close as if he could absorb you into himself, two hearts beating as one. These moments of tranquil intimacy, away from prying eyes and the demands of the world, were precious beyond measure. In the sanctuary of your embrace, Mairon could simply be—not the renowned smith, the esteemed lord, but simply a husband deeply in love with his wife.

Eventually, the grumble of Mairon's stomach broke the spell, eliciting a giggle from your lips. You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes twinkling with mirth. "It seems I'm not the only one in need of sustenance," you teased gently. "Come, my love. Let me feed you before you waste away."

Mairon chuckled, stealing one more quick kiss before reluctantly releasing you. "I suppose I should let you tend to my more mundane needs, lest I become too weak to properly ravish you later."

You laughed, swatting his chest playfully as you led him towards the kitchen. "Behave, husband. Or I may just let you starve."

Mairon's eyes glinted wickedly as he followed you, his gaze roving appreciatively over your form. "Ah, but what a way to go, my goddess. Perishing of hunger while feasting my eyes upon your beauty."

Rolling your eyes fondly at his silver-tongued flattery, you ushered Mairon to sit at the kitchen table while you set about preparing a light meal. The companionable silence was broken only by the occasional clink of dishware and the soft sounds of your movements as you moved about the kitchen preparing a simple meal, you felt Mairon's eyes following your every graceful movement. His appreciative gaze was like a physical caress, igniting tingles of awareness across your skin. You had to suppress a shiver of delight, knowing that if you met that smoldering emerald stare, you would likely abandon all thoughts of food in favor of losing yourself in his passionate embrace once more.

With an effort, you kept your focus on the task at hand, assembling a tray of crusty bread, creamy cheese, ripe summer fruits, and a carafe of crisp wine. Setting the spread on the table, you finally allowed yourself to meet Mairon's heated gaze as you slid into the chair beside him.

"Eat, my love," you urged softly, plucking a plump red grape from the bunch and holding it to his sculpted lips.

Mairon's eyes darkened with desire as he accepted the proffered grape, his lips brushing your fingertips in a feather-light caress. He held your gaze as he bit into the succulent fruit, a drop of juice escaping to slide down his chin. Your breath hitched as his tongue darted out to catch the errant droplet, the sensual motion sending heat unfurling through your veins.

"Delicious," Mairon purred, his voice low and rough with wanting. "Though I know of sweeter fruits I would rather taste."

A shiver raced down your spine at his suggestive words, your thighs clenching reflexively. "Behave," you chided breathlessly, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the needy flutter of your pulse. "You need to eat, husband."

Mairon chuckled, the sound a dark velvet caress. "As my lady commands." He plucked another grape from the bunch, holding it to your lips in clear invitation. "Though perhaps you would indulge me by sharing this meal, love?"

Smiling softly, you leaned forward and accepted the grape, your lips closing around the tips of Mairon's fingers in a fleeting kiss. A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest as he watched you savor the burst of sweet juice on your tongue. His emerald gaze was molten with barely restrained hunger, the kind that no mere food could sate.

You took your time with the meal, feeding each other morsels between sips of crisp, chilled wine. Each brush of fingers against lips, each heated glance and barely suppressed shiver of delight, only stoked the simmering embers of desire between you. By the time the last grape had been savored, the last piece of bread torn and shared, the air practically crackled with sensual tension.

Mairon set down his wine glass, his movements slow and deliberate. His emerald eyes burned into yours, dark with promise. "I find I am still hungry, love," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual purr that sent heat unfurling through your veins. "Ravenous, in fact." His gaze raked over you, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the tell-tale flush of arousal staining your cheeks.

You shivered under the intensity of Mairon's hungry gaze, your body already responding to the dark promise in his voice. Rising from your chair on slightly unsteady legs, you held out a hand to your husband, a coy smile playing about your lips. "Then let us retire to our chambers, my love, and sate that hunger properly.”

Mairon's answering grin was positively wolfish as he took your proffered hand, allowing you to pull him up and lead him eagerly towards your bedroom. The moment the door closed behind you, he had you pressed against the solid wood, his powerful body caging you in as he claimed your lips in a searing kiss.

You moaned into the passionate embrace, your fingers tangling in Mairon's silken hair to pull him impossibly closer. He devoured your mouth with an intensity that left you weak in the knees, his tongue delving into your mouth seeking to dance with yours.

Mairon's hands roamed your curves as he kissed you deeply, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He palmed your breasts through the thin fabric of your gown, kneading the soft mounds and coaxing breathy moans from your lips. You arched into his touch, silently begging for more.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Mairon began trailing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pausing to nip and suck at the sensitive skin. "I've been aching for you all day, sweet one," he rasped against your racing pulse. "Craving the taste of your skin, the sound of your moans, the feel of you writhing beneath me in ecstasy."

His sinful words sent molten heat straight to your core. You whimpered, tilting your head to give him better access to your throat, as your own fingers moved from his fiery strands to cup him through his pants, relishing the low groan that rumbled in his chest as you caressed his hardening length. He bucked into your touch, his hips rolling in search of more delicious friction. You smiled against his throat before nipping sharply at his pulse point, drawing a hiss of pleasure from your husband's lips.

"I want to worship you tonight, my love," you purred, your nimble fingers unlacing his pants with deliberate slowness. "I want to taste every inch of your magnificent body, bring you to the heights of ecstasy with my mouth and hands until you are trembling and breathless with need."

Mairon growled low in his throat, his eyes flashing with feral hunger as he pulled back to gaze down at you. "You undo me, sweet temptress," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. You giggled and bit down on your bottom lip before pushing him over to the bed, until he was sat on the edge of the mattress.

Holding Mairon's heated gaze, you slowly sank to your knees before him, settling between his powerful thighs. His breath hitched as you ran your hands up the firm muscles, fingers deftly unfastening his pants fully and freeing his straining erection.

Your eyes darkened with lust as you drank in the sight of him—long, thick and perfect, the engorged head already glistening with pearls of desire. Mairon watched you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he waited for your next move, utterly enthralled.

"So beautiful," you murmured reverently, trailing a single finger up the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. Mairon shuddered, his hands fisting in the sheets as he fought to remain still under your teasing touch.

Slowly, you wrapped your hand around Mairon's thick length, stroking him from root to tip with deliberate slowness. A low groan rumbled in his chest at the sensation, his hips lifting slightly into your touch, silently begging for more.

You gazed up at him from beneath your lashes, your own desire mounting at the sight of your powerful husband coming undone from your touch alone. Leaning forward, you placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the weeping tip, your tongue darting out to lap up the pearly drops of his essence.

Mairon hissed in pleasure, one hand coming down to tangle in your hair, not pushing or demanding, but simply anchoring himself to you. "Mori, please..." he rasped, his voice strained with need.

“Shhh…” you comforted, “I have you.” Mairon's fingers flexed in your hair as you slowly licked a long stripe up the underside of his shaft before taking the weeping tip into your mouth. You suckled gently, swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown and savoring the salty-sweet taste of his arousal. Mairon let out a guttural moan, his hips jerking slightly as he fought to stay still and let you pleasure him at your own pace.

Slowly, inch by tortuous inch, you took more of him into the wet heat of your mouth. You hummed around his thickness, the vibrations making Mairon curse under his breath in a language you did not know. His other hand still clutching at the sheets, emerald eyes burning into yours, glazed with pleasure and adoration.

"That's it, sweet one," he encouraged hoarsely as you began to bob your head, taking him fully into your mouth, enveloping his hard length in your wet heat. A guttural groan tore from his throat as you began to worship him with lips and tongue, taking him deeper with every bob of your head.

"Yes, Mori, just like that..." Mairon panted, his fingers flexing in your hair as you worked him with single-minded focus. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed in bliss as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him hard. "Your mouth is divine, love..."

You hummed around him in response, the vibrations wringing another choked moan from Mairon's lips. Relaxing your throat, you took him as deep as you could, reveling in the heavy weight of him on your tongue, the musky taste of his arousal. Your own core clenched with need as you lavished Mairon's straining length with devoted attention, the evidence of your arousal dampening your skirts. Mairon's choked moans and gasps of pleasure only stoked the fire building in your veins, your body aching to feel him buried deep inside you.

But first, you were determined to unravel your husband completely with your mouth. Just as he had done to you countless times.

Pulling back until just the tip remained between your lips, you swirled your tongue around the sensitive crown, lapping up the steady pearls of arousal leaking from the slit. Mairon cursed breathlessly above you, the hand in your hair tightening reflexively as his hips strained not to buck into the blissful heat of your mouth.

"Mori...my goddess..." he groaned brokenly, his hips starting to rock gently in time with your movements, unable to stay still any longer. "So good...you undo me completely..."

Encouraged by Mairon's breathless praise, you redoubled your efforts, sucking him with increasing fervor as your head bobbed up and down his length. Your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, pumping in time with your mouth as you worked him closer and closer to the edge. The wet, filthy sounds of your devoted ministrations filled the room, mingling with Mairon's deep moans and the racing of your own heart.

You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, his thick length twitching as his release approached. Determined to push him over that precipice, you relaxed your throat and took him fully into your mouth until your nose was buried in the coarse curls at the base of his shaft. At the same moment, you reached down to cup his heavy sack, rolling the sensitive globes in your palm.

"Mori," Mairon choked out, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as his entire body tensed. "I'm going to...fuck...I can't..."

Humming your encouragement, you swallowed around his length, your throat muscles massaging the sensitive tip. That was all it took to push Mairon over the edge. With a hoarse shout of your name, he came undone, his release pulsing hot and thick down your throat. You swallowed greedily, working him through the intense waves of his climax, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from his shuddering body.

Only when Mairon collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting, did you release him from your mouth. Licking your lips, you crawled up his body until you were straddling his hips, gazing down at him with a satisfied smile.

"My beautiful wife," Mairon rasped, reaching up to cup your face with a trembling hand. "You are to good to me." His emerald eyes glowed with reverent adoration as his thumb brushed tenderly across your swollen lips.

You turned your head to press a loving kiss to his palm. "And you fill me with such joy and pleasure, my darling husband," you murmured. "Worshiping you, watching you come undone from my attentions...it's the headiest aphrodisiac."

Mairon's eyes darkened at your words, a fresh wave of desire already stirring between your still clothed bodies. You giggled and moved to get off him so you could tease him a little bit more, trying to stoke that passion you so deeply loved to pull out of him.

He sat up, the dark look deepening at your absence but with a coy smile, you began to undress slowly, teasingly. You slowly unlaced the bodice of your gown, your fingers toying with the silken cords as Mairon watched hungrily from the bed. With deliberate, teasing motions, you parted the fabric to reveal tantalizing glimpses of your delicate skin and the very jewel he had crafted for you resting upon your breastbone.

Mairon's eyes followed the path of your fingers, his gaze burning with renewed hunger as you caressed the jewel he had crafted with such devotion. The sight of his handiwork resting against your bare skin, a tangible symbol of his claim, sent a fresh wave of possessive desire surging through his veins.

Slowly, you let the bodice fall away completely, baring your upper body to Mairon's reverent gaze. His breath hitched as he drank in the sight of you, his hands flexing at his sides as if aching to touch, to worship. You held his gaze as you reached for the ties of your skirt, loosening them with deliberate slowness. The fabric whispered down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you bare.

The cool air kissed your heated skin, pebbling your nipples into aching buds that begged for Mairon's touch. You cupped your breasts, fingers grazing the sensitive peaks as you held your husband's rapt attention.

"Mori," Mairon growled, his voice low and rough with renewed lust. "You tempt me beyond reason." His hands flexed on his powerful thighs, as if physically restraining himself from pouncing on you and ravishing you senseless.

You bit your lip coyly, relishing the naked hunger in Mairon's gaze as you continued to tease yourself, trying to prolong this until he was feral with desire.

"Do you like what you see, husband?" you purred, trailing your fingers down your stomach to brush teasingly over your mound. "Does it please you to see your wife so needy for your touch?”

Mairon's eyes flashed with feral hunger as he tracked the path of your hand. "More than you can possibly imagine, sweet temptress," he rasped. "Seeing you touch yourself, knowing it's my hands, my mouth you crave...it inflames me beyond reason."

To emphasize his point, Mairon wrapped a hand around his already hardening length, stroking himself slowly as he devoured you with his gaze. "I ache to worship every inch of your exquisite body until you are begging for my cock. To feel your slick heat clenching around me as I make you scream with pleasure."

His filthy words sent a tingle of pleasure through your core. Your fingers grazed your sensitive pearl, eliciting a breathy gasp from your parted lips. Mairon's eyes darkened to a molten emerald as he watched you tease yourself, his own hand pumping his hardening shaft with increased urgency. The air crackled with erotic tension, your mutual arousal building to a fever pitch.

"That's it, divine," Mairon encouraged hoarsely. "Touch yourself for me. Show me how much you need my cock buried deep inside your tight little cunt."

Moaning at his filthy words, you began to circle your aching nub with deliberate strokes, your hips rocking into your touch. Your other hand continued to pluck and roll your pebbled nipple, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to your core. Mairon groaned at the sight of you, his cock twitching in his hand as he watched you pleasure yourself for his viewing only.

Soon your finger delved between your glistening folds, gliding easily through the slick evidence of your arousal. Slowly, teasingly, you circled your entrance, biting your lip to stifle a needy moan. Mairon's hungry gaze followed every movement, his hand pumping his straining length in time with the teasing thrust of your finger.

"Ah ah, sweet one," he chided huskily. "Let me hear those pretty sounds. I want to hear every breathy moan, every desperate whimper as you fuck yourself on your fingers, wishing they were my cock splitting you open."

A shuddering gasp escaped your lips at his filthy words, your hips bucking into your touch. "Mairon," you mewled, sliding a single finger into your aching core, your velvety walls clenching greedily around the digit.

"That's it, my goddess," Mairon growled, his eyes riveted to where your finger disappeared into your dripping heat. "Fuck yourself for me. Add another finger, stretch that tight little cunt."

Whimpering with need, you obeyed, sliding a second finger alongside the first. A choked moan tore from your throat at the increased pressure, your inner walls fluttering around the invading digits. You pumped them slowly, the obscene wet sounds of your arousal filling the room and mingling with Mairon's harsh breaths as he watched you with rapt hunger.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice strained with barely leashed control. "So desperate for me, so wanton. Fucking your fingers like a little whore, wishing it was my thick cock splitting you open instead."

His filthy words only spurred you on. “Mairon,” you whimpered. “I need you,” you pleaded, your hips rolling eagerly into your touch.

Mairon chuckled as he continued to stroke himself slower, trying to prolong his release. “I wish to see you fall apart upon those fingers first,” he growled, “Then you shall have me, sweet one, add another finger.” His voice commanded.

A needy whine escaped your lips at Mairon's command, but you were powerless to resist. Slowly, you added a third finger alongside the first two, your breath hitching at the delicious stretch. Your slick walls clenched greedily again as you began to pump them in earnest, crooking them to hit that sensitive spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

"Oh, Mairon!" you keened, your head tossing back in ecstasy as you fucked yourself on your fingers, your thumb circling your aching pearl. "It feels so good, but I need more. I need you!"

Mairon groaned at the debauched sight of you, his cock throbbing in his fist as he fought the urge to pounce on you and bury himself to the hilt in your welcoming heat. "Look at you, sweet one," he growled, his voice rough with barely restrained lust. "Fucking yourself so desperately, your pretty cunt dripping for my cock. Such a wanting little goddess, aren't you?"

"Yes," you whimpered, grinding down harder on your fingers, chasing the release that hovered just out of reach. "Only for you, Mairon. I'm only ever this needy for you." Your fingers still working desperately inside, bringing up the coiling tension as his words spurred you on.

"That's it, my divine temptress," Mairon growled approvingly, emerald eyes burning with molten hunger as he watched you chase your pleasure. "Fuck those fingers harder, let me see you shatter. Then I'm going to ravage that body until you forget everything but my name.”

His filthy promises combined with the relentless pumping of your fingers sent you hurtling towards the edge. Your walls fluttered wildly around the plunging digits, your pleasure cresting higher and higher.

"Mairon, I'm going to..." you keened desperately, grinding your aching nub against your palm as your climax approached.

"That's it, come for me," Mairon commanded, his deep voice strained with lust. "Scream my name as you fall apart, let all of Arda know who makes you shatter."

With a final, desperate thrust of your fingers, you came undone, Mairon's name tearing from your lips in a ragged scream of ecstasy. Your walls clamped down on your plunging digits, fluttering wildly as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you. You rode out the high, gasping and shuddering, barely registering Mairon's groan of approval over the rushing of blood in your ears.

Slowly, you came back to yourself, withdrawing your slick fingers from your still spasming core. Your gaze found Mairon's, your eyes glazed with satisfaction and lingering need. Mairon's eyes flashed with feral hunger as you approached, your glistening fingers extended in offering. Without breaking eye contact, he captured your wrist, guiding your slick digits to his sculpted lips. A low rumble of approval vibrated in his chest as he took your fingers into the wet heat of his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digits, lapping up the essence of your arousal.

You shivered at the erotic sight, a fresh wave of desire pulsing through your already sensitive core. "Mairon," you breathed, your voice husky with renewed need.

He released your fingers with a final, sensual lick, a wicked smile curving his lips. "Breathtaking," he purred, eyes molten with lust. "But I think I need to taste you from the source."

Your breathing hitched at his carnal promise, desire flooding your veins anew. "Please, husband," you whimpered, aching for his touch. "I am desperate for your attention.”

Mairon growled low in his throat, the sound primal and possessive. In a flash of movement, he had you pinned beneath him on the bed, his powerful body caging you in. You gasped at the sudden shift, your heart pounding with anticipation as he loomed over you, sea-foam green eyes blazing.

"I'm going to devour you, sweet one," he rumbled, his voice a dark promise against your lips. "I'm going to take in every drop of that sweet nectar until you're withering, begging me to fuck you senseless."

A shiver raced down your spine at his filthy words, your core clenching with desperate need. "Yes, Mairon,”

Mairon's lips crashed against yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your needy whimper. His tongue delved past your parted lips to claim your mouth with searing possession, igniting the flames of desire through your veins. You surrendered to his passionate onslaught, your fingers tangling in his fiery locks to anchor him to you.

Tearing his lips from yours, Mairon began a slow, sensual descent down your body, his mouth blazing a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along your flushed skin. He paused to lave attention on your breasts, drawing each aching nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, suckling and nipping until you were arching into his touch, breathy pleas for more falling from your lips.

"Patience, my love," Mairon purred.

His lips blazed a scorching trail down your body, alternating between reverent kisses and sharp nips that had you arching again. He paused to dip his tongue into your navel, swirling around the sensitive hollow and drawing a gasp from your parted lips. Your fingers tangled in his silken hair clenched, torn between urging him lower and simply holding on for dear life as he took you apart with his wickedly talented mouth.

After what felt like an eternity of sweet torment, Mairon finally settled between your thighs, his broad shoulders forcing them wider to accommodate him. You trembled in anticipation, your glistening folds mere inches from his pillowy lips. Mairon inhaled deeply, a low rumble of satisfaction vibrating through his chest.

Mairon's gaze flickered up to meet yours, molten emerald eyes bright with feral hunger. "I could drown in your essence, worship at the altar of your pleasure for eternity and never tire of it."

A shiver raced down your spine at his reverent words, a fresh gush of arousal coating your already slick folds. "Mairon," you whimpered, rolling your hips in shameless offering. "Don't tease me any longer. I need your mouth on me."

He flashed you a wolfish grin, clearly pleased by your wanton desperation. "As my goddess commands."

With that, he lowered his head and swiped his tongue along your glistening slit in one long, firm lick, from your dripping entrance to your aching pearl. A strangled cry tore from your throat at the exquisite sensation.

Mairon groaned against your slick folds, the taste of your arousal on his tongue more intoxicating than the finest wine. "Love," he growled, eyes flashing up to meet yours, glazed with lust. "You were made for my worship."

Before you could formulate a response, he sealed his lips around your throbbing pearl, suckling greedily. A choked scream of pleasure ripped from your throat, your back bowing off the bed as he lavished your sensitive nub with skillful flicks and swirls of his wicked tongue. Your fingers tightened in his fiery locks, holding him where you needed him most.

Mairon devoured your aching core like a man starved, his lips and tongue worshipping your sensitive flesh with unrestrained hunger. He lapped up your flowing nectar, savoring every drop before delving his tongue deep into your fluttering channel, mimicking the act he craved. You sobbed his name, your hips undulating against his face, silently begging for more.

"Please..." you whimpered, your voice breaking on a needy keen as he thrust his tongue in and out of your clenching heat. "I need you inside me."

With a final, greedy lick, Mairon pulled back just enough to meet your pleading gaze, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. "Soon, my divine wife," he promised darkly, his voice rough with lust. Mairon replaced his tongue with two thick fingers, sinking them knuckle-deep into your fluttering heat and scissoring them to stretch your inner walls. "I need to prepare this sweet cunt to take my cock. You're always so deliciously tight for me, I have to make sure you're ready.”

You cried out sharply as his fingers pumped into you, your hips rolling to meet each thrust. The obscene squelch of your arousal filled the room as he worked you open, his lips returning to your aching clit. He suckled the sensitive nub as his fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

"Oh gods, Mairon, yes!" you wailed, your inner muscles clenching greedily around his plunging digits. "Just like that, my love. Don't stop!" you begged, your voice strained with desperate need as Mairon's fingers drove you closer and closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter with each masterful thrust and swirl of his tongue, your body taut as a bowstring ready to snap.

Mairon hummed against your throbbing pearl, the vibrations sending shockwaves of bliss rippling through your quivering form. He could feel your impending release in the telltale flutter of your inner walls around his pumping fingers, your essence flooding his palm as he pushed you towards that exquisite edge.

"That's it, sweet one," he growled, his voice muffled against your slick folds. "Give in to the pleasure. Let me feel you shatter on my tongue."

His filthy encouragement, the relentless thrusting of his fingers, and the skillful swirls of his tongue were all you needed. With a keening wail, you shattered, your climax crashing over you in blinding waves of ecstasy. Your inner walls clamped down rhythmically on Mairon's plunging digits, your slick release coating his hand and chin as he worked you through the intense peak.

"Mairon!" you sobbed, your body writhing beneath his dedicated ministrations. "Oh gods, yes!"

Mairon growled his approval against your quivering center, prolonging your pleasure with deep thrusts of his fingers and firm licks of his tongue against your pulsing pearl. He greedily lapped up your flowing nectar, drinking down your release as if it were the sweetest of wines.

Mairon continued his sensual onslaught, determined to wring every last drop of ecstasy from your shuddering form. Only when the final aftershocks ebbed did he slowly withdraw his fingers from your fluttering core, releasing your oversensitive pearl with a final, gentle lick. You collapsed back against the pillows, sated, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Truly divine," Mairon purred, pressing reverent kisses along your trembling inner thighs as he crawled up your body. "Watching you come undone on my tongue, feeling you pulse around my fingers... there is no sweeter bliss."

You managed a weak, breathless laugh, reaching for him with shaky hands. "I think you may be biased, husband."

Mairon's lips curved in a wicked smirk as he stood to his full height, his deft fingers making quick work of the remaining fastenings on his clothes. His emerald eyes, dark with lust, never wavered from yours as he bared himself to your hungry gaze. Your breath caught at the magnificent sight of him—all lean, sculpted muscle and smooth, creamy skin decorated with a sprinkle of reddish freckles. His thick length stood proud against the thatch of dark copper curls, his engorged head already glistening with pearly essence—each part of him was masculine perfection, a true work of art crafted by the Valar themselves.

"Biased, perhaps," Mairon purred, stalking towards the bed with predatory grace. "But can you blame me? When presented with such exquisite perfection, how can I not fall to worship?"

You shivered at his heated words, a fresh pulse of desire thrumming through your veins. Biting your lip, you continued to drink in the magnificent sight of your husband bared before you, desire simmering in your veins despite the lingering tremors of your release. Mairon preened under your appreciative gaze, clearly reveling in the hunger darkening your eyes.

"See something you like, sweet one?" he purred, his hand drifting down to wrap around his impressive length, stroking languidly from root to tip.

Your eyes tracked the sensual motion of Mairon's hand on his shaft, your tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips. "Very much so," you breathed, heat pooling in your core anew at the erotic sight. "I'm not sure I'll ever tire of admiring your exquisite form, husband."

Mairon chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent delicious shivers racing down your spine. "Nor I yours, my exquisite wife." His eyes glinted with wicked promise as his gaze raked over your sprawled form, taking in every curve and dip laid bare for his perusal. "And I fully intend to worship this temple of perfection."

A needy whimper escaped your lips at his bold declaration, your glistening thighs clenching together in a vain attempt to ease the ache building once more between them. Mairon's eyes darkened at the telling motion, a knowing smirk tugging at his sensual lips.

"Already desperate for more, wife?" he purred, crawling onto the bed with feline grace. "Even after I've just wrung two exquisite climaxes from this needy little body?"

You mewled helplessly as Mairon settled his powerful form over yours, his thick length nestling against your slick folds. "Always, my love," you breathed, arching into him wantonly. "I'll never stop craving your touch, your worship."

Mairon groaned, dropping his head to the crook of your neck as he rolled his hips, coating himself in your slick essence. "Nor will I ever stop craving you, Mori," he rasped against your racing pulse. "This perfect body, this pure soul...you are my heart's greatest treasure."

He punctuated his fervent words with a sharp nip to your throat, soothing the sting with a reverent swipe of his tongue. You shuddered beneath him, your nails raking down the flexing muscles of his back as he rocked against you, teasing you both with the promise of unity.

"Mairon, please," you whimpered, hitching your legs high around his waist, opening yourself fully to his possession. "I need you...I need to feel you inside me, claiming me, filling me..."

A low, approving growl rumbled from Mairon's chest at your wanton plea. "And you shall have me, sweet one," he purred, his voice a dark promise against your kiss-bruised lips. "Every thick, hard inch, splitting you open, claiming you so thoroughly there will be no mistaking who you belong to."

With a sinuous roll of his hips, Mairon notched the broad head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you both with the barest hint of penetration. You keened high in your throat, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on his sweat-slicked skin as you tried to urge him deeper. But Mairon kept his movements maddeningly shallow, eyes burning into yours, savoring your desperate need.

"Beg for it, Mori," he commanded huskily, his own control fraying at the edges but still hanging on by a thread. "I want to hear you plead for my cock like a needy little whore."

You nearly sobbed at his filthy demand, pride and inhibition long since abandoned in the face of your all-consuming need for him. "Please, Mairon," you keened, your hips undulating against him in shameless offering. "Please fuck me, fill me, claim me. I need your thick cock splitting me open, pounding into me until I can't tell which way is up or down. Make me yours, husband, ruin me for anyone else!"

Mairon snarled, a feral sound of satisfaction, and with one mighty thrust of his hips, Mairon sheathed himself fully inside your welcoming heat. You cried out sharply at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the bed into him as he stretched and filled you so perfectly, just on the delicious edge of too much. Mairon groaned long and low at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice, hot and slick as your delicate walls fluttered around his aching length.

"Gods, Mori," he growled, holding himself completely still, buried to the hilt to allow you both a moment to adjust to the intense sensation. "Always so fucking tight for me. Like this sweet cunt was made just to sheath my cock."

You whimpered, your inner muscles clenching around him involuntarily at his filthy praise, wringing a harsh grunt from Mairon's lips. Slowly, he began to move within you, withdrawing almost fully before slamming back home, setting a deep, driving rhythm that stole the breath from your lungs. You clung to his broad shoulders, meeting each powerful thrust with a roll of your hips, the obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room.

"Yes, Mairon!" you cried, your head tossing back in ecstasy as he pounded into you, hitting that secret spot within you that made your vision white out. "Just like that, my love."

Mairon growled his approval, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise as he pistoned into your welcoming heat. "Mine," he growled, punctuating the word with a particularly sharp thrust. "This perfect body, this pure heart—all mine. No one else will ever touch you, worship you like I do.”

You sobbed in ecstasy as Mairon's words inflamed your desire, the erotic pain/pleasure of his punishing grip on your hips only heightening the intensity of every driving thrust. "Yours," you agreed breathlessly, the truth of it resonating in your very soul. "Always and only yours. I belong to you, Mairon, body and soul. Now and forever!”

Mairon made a sound that was half growl, half groan, his pace increasing until he was rutting into you with near brutal force. The headboard slammed against the wall with each powerful drive of his hips, the bed frame creaking in protest, but you were too lost in sensation to care. All that existed was the exquisite slide of his thick length in your fluttering core, the delicious drag of his heavy sack against your sensitive skin, the electric sparks of bliss each time the thick head of his cock struck that spot inside you with unerring precision. The overwhelming pleasure built and built, your body drawn as taut as a bowstring, quivering on the precipice of rapture.

"Mai-Mairon, I'm close!" you sobbed, your walls beginning to flutter wildly around his pistoning length. "Please, my love...I need..."

"I know, sweet one," Mairon growled, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release, determined to feel you shatter first. Bracing a hand on the creaking headboard, he gripped the wood hard to support his movements as he snaked his free hand between your sweat-slicked bodies to find your aching pearl. He circled the sensitive nub with firm, deliberate strokes, perfectly timed with the relentless pounding of his hips.

The added stimulation was all you needed to unravel. With a keening wail of Mairon's name, you shattered into the mattress, your climax crashing over you in blinding waves of ecstasy. Your inner walls clamped down on his thrusting length, fluttering and milking him with rhythmic pulses as your release flooded your veins with liquid bliss.

"There you go," Mairon roared, his pace turning erratic as his own end fast approached. "Come all over my cock, sweet one. Drench me in your pleasure!"

He worked you through your intense peak, his fingers never ceasing their skillful circling of your throbbing pearl, drawing out your rapture until you were sobbing incoherently, utterly lost to the maelstrom of sensation. Only when the last aftershocks had wrung themselves from your quivering form did Mairon allow himself to surrender to his own pleasure. With a final, mighty thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, a hoarse shout of your name on his lips as his climax overtook him. You mewled weakly as you felt his thick length pulsing within you, painting your fluttering walls with spurt after spurt of his hot seed. Mairon's hips jerked and rolled, working himself through the intense waves of his release until he was spent and trembling above you.

Panting harshly, Mairon collapsed against you, his face buried in the sweat-dampened crook of your neck as you both fought to catch your breath. You clung to him, your limbs heavy and sated, your body still fluttering sporadically around his softening length. Tender kisses were pressed to whatever overheated skin you could reach.

As the haze of passion slowly ebbed, Mairon lifted his head from your neck to gaze down at you, his green eyes soft with reverent adoration. He brushed a few sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, his touch infinitely gentle despite the passionate force of his lovemaking mere moments before.

"Moríel, my heart," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "You undo me so completely, in body and soul. I am forever at your mercy, my goddess."

You smiled up at him, your own eyes shining with the depth of your love and devotion. Cupping his face in your hands, you drew him down for a slow, sweet kiss, pouring every ounce of affection into the tender brush of lips.

"As I am at yours, my sweet husband," you breathed against his mouth. "Without you, I would be lost."

Mairon returned your tender smile, his expression one of pure love and contentment. Carefully, he withdrew from your warmth, both of you sighing softly at the loss of intimate connection. He shifted to lay beside you, gathering you into his strong arms and tucking you securely against his chest. You melted into his embrace, relishing the comforting heat of his skin, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

For long moments you simply held each other, basking in the afterglow of your passionate joining, the profound sense of completeness it always brought. No words were needed in these quiet moments—your love, your devotion, was an unspoken understanding, a bond that transcended the physical.

Eventually, Mairon broke the comfortable silence, his fingers tracing idle patterns along the dip of your spine. "I wish we could stay like this forever," he murmured.

You hummed in contented agreement, nestling even closer into Mairon's comforting warmth. "Mmmm, that sounds heavenly," you murmured drowsily, your eyelids already growing heavy in the hazy aftermath of your lovemaking. "Just you and me, entwined like this for all eternity, with no responsibilities or cares beyond pleasing each other."

Mairon chuckled softly, the sound a deep, soothing rumble beneath your ear. "A tempting notion, to be sure. Though I fear we would soon exhaust ourselves, insatiable as we are." He pressed a tender kiss to your hair. "And loath as I am to be parted from you for even a moment, I must admit there is a certain thrill in stealing these moments amidst the chaos of our daily lives. It makes our time together all the more special.”

You smiled against Mairon's chest, trailing reverent fingers over the defined ridges of his abdomen. "I suppose you're right, my love. As much as I adore losing myself in you for hours on end, there is something deliciously illicit about sneaking away for a passionate moments, knowing we must soon return to our duties." You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint in your eye. "It adds a certain...urgency and intensity to our lovemaking."

Mairon's emerald eyes darkened, a wicked smirk tugging at his sensual lips. "Mmmm, indeed it does, my love. Perhaps I should whisk you away to some hidden place sometime, have my wicked way with you until you're breathless and trembling, knowing we could be discovered at any moment."

A delicious shiver raced down your spine at Mairon's salacious suggestion, the idea of a passionate tryst in some secluded alcove igniting a fresh spark of desire in your veins. "Careful, husband," you purred, walking your fingers teasingly up his chest. "Keep talking like that and we may never leave this bed."

Mairon chuckled, a low, husky sound that vibrated pleasantly against your cheek. "And that would be a hardship...why, exactly?" he quipped, his hand drifting lower to palm the curve of your rear.

You giggled, swatting at his chest playfully. "Behave, you insatiable man. As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night lost in your arms, we both have duties to attend to in the morning." You sighed wistfully, pressing a kiss over his chest.

"As always, you are the voice of reason, my love," Mairon conceded with a rueful smile. "Though I still maintain that a day spent worshipping your exquisite form is a day well spent, duties be damned."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at his incorrigible nature. "And I would be inclined to agree with you, were our responsibilities not so pressing. But alas, we cannot shirk our roles, tempting as it may be."

Mairon heaved an exaggerated sigh, though the playful twinkle in his eye belied any true exasperation. "I suppose you're right, as usual. The price we pay for being productive members of society." He pressed a lingering kiss to your brow. "But I fully intend to steal you away at the earliest opportunity, wife. The next time our schedules align, but for now lets rest.”

Laughing softly, you reached up to kiss Mairon's lips tenderly. "I look forward to it, husband. A whole day sequestered away in your passionate embrace sounds like paradise."

Mairon smiled into the kiss, his arms tightening around you as if he could bind you to him for all eternity. "With you, my heart, anywhere is paradise."

You sighed contentedly, your own arms winding around his trim waist to anchor yourself to his comforting warmth. Tucking your head under his chin, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, the steady drum of Mairon's heartbeat and the soothing caress of his fingers through your hair lulling you towards slumber.

For a time, you simply held each other in comfortable silence, your breaths slowly syncing as sleep crept in on velvet paws to claim you. But just before you succumbed completely to slumber's siren call, Mairon's low, melodic voice drifted through the hazy veil of pending dreams. "I love you, Moríel," he murmured, his lips brushing your hair in a ghost of a kiss. "More than all the stars in the sky, more than life itself. Never doubt that."

"And I love you, Mairon," you breathed, the words slightly slurred with impending sleep but no less heartfelt. "For all eternity, in this life and the next."

Mairon held you close as you drifted off to sleep, marveling at how your skin seemed to shimmer in the moonlight filtering through the gossamer curtains. In repose, your beauty was ethereal, otherworldly—as if the Valar themselves had crafted you from starlight and dreams. He couldn't resist trailing reverent fingers along the delicate curves and dips of your body, committing every inch to memory.

You were his greatest masterpiece, his magnum opus—a work of art to be cherished and worshipped for all eternity. He relished these quiet moments when he could simply admire you, uninterrupted by the demands of the waking world. In sleep, you were his and his alone, untouched by any other's gaze or affections.

His mind wandered as he caressed your skin, thoughts flitting between memories of your passionate lovemaking and plans for the future—a future with you forever by his side. He pictured stolen moments like these stretching out into eternity, an endless honeymoon of passion and devotion. Perhaps one day, when the world was less turbulent, he could spirit you away to some hidden paradise, where you could spend your days lost in each other, far from prying eyes and responsibilities.

The thought brought a soft smile to his lips. Yes, someday he would make that a reality. But for now, he was content to hold you close, to bask in the warmth of you in his arms and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his own.

As drowsiness began to tug at his own consciousness, Mairon pressed one last tender kiss to your brow before allowing his eyes to drift closed, secure in the knowledge that you would still be nestled safely in his embrace come morning's light.

[lokavisi]

So about two nights ago, I had a really solid conversation with Loki. A friend got some cues from him through their pendulum, we were both very confused, and then my wife (who barely gives a shit about the Guy lol) interprets this message so pristinely. It was like getting slapped upside the head when she gave her explanation. So I started free writing to continue the conversation more directly with Loki. There were a few big points made in this conversation.

First, he expressed frustration that, in spite of working with him for 4 years now, I still don't seem to "get" him. Like I keep coming to him to vent about some bullshit that's winding me up, he offers a suggestion to help me unwind, and then I brush it off or forget or just straight up ignore it. So he was like, "I've been telling you the same shit for 4 years now... It feels like you're just fundamentally ignoring all the parts of me that make me, ME." So...naturally I felt really fucking stupid and shitty.

Then he very lovingly affirmed that "this isn't me being facetious or angry or trying to put you down. I'm frustrated and irritated, yes, but surely you do realize by now that I fucking love you and you're stuck with me." This meant a lot to me more so than it might for others because my ADHD comes with mad rejection sensitivity dysphoria. Any time anyone says something that indicates some level of upset at me, my brain catastrophizes and breaks down because "clearly" it means they hate me. (This is basically never the case.) This leads me to the primary nugget of wisdom that came from this conversation.

I realized this whole time (once my wife interpreted the initial message) I was hearing him more clearly than I had in a long time. It was nearly as if a physical person sat next to me speaking. As the conversation was wrapping up, I made a note of this and asked, "Why do I feel l hear you clearest when you're frustrated with me?" We've had plenty of similar conversations, and when I look back at past moments when I simply couldn't deny the messages were coming from outside myself, he usually had some level of frustration with me. But to answer my question, he said:

"Because that's all you wanna hear. That's all you think you deserve. Even when you seek love or comfort and I provide, you don't always fully receive it. I try to be funny to cheer you up and you won't have it, just calling me stupid. You are terrible at receiving input that doesn't put you down or reinforce any negative thoughts you believe about yourself. So stop it. Seriously. Fucking stop believing bad shit about yourself."

He went on to talk about the rune readings I did for a bunch you on here (thanks again for the practice❤️), and how I should be pumping myself up from all the positive feedback I got from it. And we exchanged some jokes and "I love you"'s before calling it a night.

As per usual, I share my story in a giant block of text to remind everyone of what Loki reminded me: to not just take in the messaging that supports a negative view of yourself. Allow yourself to believe that you are the gods' gift to humanity. (I just heard him say, "Seriously. I do it all the time. It works wonders for your self-esteem." 😂❤️) Maybe that verbage doesn't have the greatest connotations, but the point is to think more highly of yourself. Believe in the power and confidence that you possess. Even if it doesn't feel like you have either of these things, fake it til you make it - until you realize they've been here this whole time.

I'm on this struggle bus, too, y'all. We're gonna find ourselves together. Hail Loki ❤️

[daydreamgoddess14]

Guilty as Sin

Yes, I know I'm supposed to be doing the last (? maybe? Not sure...) chapter of First Impressions but first I couldn't get this out of my brain because I swear I literally think about this man every minute of the day. Did you know he can sing? Sweet jesus, no one show me proof, I guarantee it will finish me off. Anyway, here's a little quickie (hehe 😏) cos gawd knows this fandom needs a lot a lot a lot more River and I will happily carry that burden 😂

River Cartwright/OFC (you/reader insert, no use of Y/N, L/N). Lots of smutty smut and jealousy, River feeling feelings, language warning. Mature rating.

You're undercover and it turns out River is incredibly jealous.

Without further adooooo...

********

You take another long drink, watching him as he watches you. His eyes haven't left you for what feels like hours. It has been hours, this back and forth, push and pull. It's a game you both so enjoy. The noise of the bar is growing as the night goes on, colleagues leaving and being replaced by the early doors club, then those replaced by students and the few in it for the night. You're not sure where you fall just yet, though it's clear enough that he’s struggling to keep his hands off you, so the night will not go on forever. Your knees bump together under the table, and he takes the opportunity to put a hand at the hem of your dress, lightly stroking your thigh. It's not your usual get-up. You've made an effort, and it's paying off beautifully. His eyes track down your throat and to the very deep neckline of the dress, held precariously in place with the best tit tape Boots had to offer. They look pretty fantastic if you said so yourself. A good handful for someone with good hands, which he had. With your empty glass on the table, you put a firm hand on his thigh. 

“Shall we move somewhere… quieter?” You suggest, your voice low and leading. He lights up like a Christmas tree, trying (and failing) to hide his eagerness. 

“Yeah, yeah, we should. My place?” He asks. You laugh - not unkindly or at him.

“No, not just yet. We're having so much fun, aren't we?” 

“Hmm, hard to argue that point. I'm sure I can wait a little longer. Some privacy wouldn't go amiss, though.” You slip from the stool, giving him a perfect glimpse down the front of your dress, and reach for his hand. If you remember correctly, this lovely bar has a small snug. A handful of more intimate tables with high booth walls and table service. Drinks are on him, after all, it'd be rude not to. His hand is possessive on the small of your back while he talks with the waitress. She tells him it's just a short wait, and that's fine. The wine has made you a little flushed and giddy, so you lean into him and let his warm body wrap around you. His hands shamelessly roam your body, groping and squeezing your bum and hips. He leans down to place a hot, wet kiss on your neck. His body crowds you against the hostess table, and you're not sure he actually will wait any longer.

“I'm just going to the bathroom while they get us a table,” you tell him quietly, your hand deliberately brushing across the front of his chinos. Away from the drinks and his heady aftershave, you can take a breath in the corridor to the bathrooms. 

In the dark, a body pulls you against their chest, a tight grip on your hip. 

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

“I've got him right where we want him, River, what the hell are you doing?!” You wrestle from his grasp and pull him to the very end of the corridor and away from potential passers-by. 

“He's all over you like a rash!”

“Which is exactly my plan,” you tell him. He's got you backed against the wall, and you've gone from being in complete control of the mark you've been flirting with all night to being utterly at River's mercy instead. He's never like this. Petulant? Always. Occasionally irrational and more often than not, sarcastic, but whatever this is, it's new. 

“Is it turning you on?” He demands to know. 

“Him? Or this?” You snap. You're half wondering if he can tell the difference between you faking it in the bar and whatever you're feeling now. Can he feel your heart pounding? Does he know your thighs are clenching desperately at nothing, aching for his touch? This attraction has been brewing between you for a while, glances that linger just long enough to suggest there could be more between you, but he's never made a move, and so neither have you. 

“Do you think you're turning him on?” He asks quietly, his eyes on your lips, you couldn’t resist the deep luxurious red lipstick you spotted in Boots while hunting for the tit tape.

“I know I am. I could have him on his knees for me before the night's out.” At that, he bites back a groan, bruising your hip with his tight hold. He’s holding you so closely it’s like he’s breathing life into you. And then just as it dawns on you, you also realise that you've been gone too long and you’re actually supposed to be working. “Are you jealous, Cartwright?”

“No.” Came the strained reply in the crook of your neck. You place a gentle hand on his chest and push him back a little, his lips graze the corner of your mouth as he moves. 

“I need to get back out there and finish this.” His hand catches yours as you leave, fingertips holding on until the last moment. It's knocked you for six, the intensity of his gaze and the meaning behind his sudden temper. He may have denied it, but surely you can't have imagined it all?

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

“Thought you'd gotten lost,” the mark said as you approached the table. 

“Just needed a few moments alone.” You tease. His eyes light up, and sure, if it's going to make your life easier, then he can go ahead and believe that you've just been touching yourself in the bathroom. 

“That so?” You're momentarily distracted by River passing your table to sit at the one behind. “You couldn't resist a little early playtime, huh?” You smile coyly, letting him do most of the talking - and draw his own assumptions - rather than confirming anything. “Gonna be lucky if we make it to mine,” he was saying, “I bet you love the thought of getting caught.” From this distance you could see the muscle in River’s jaw clench. The mark leaned forward but did nothing to lower his voice, “I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget your own name.” Holding his gaze, you leaned in as well, 

“Dare you.” At the table behind, you're sure you heard knuckles cracking. “Let's get out of here,” you tell the mark suddenly. It's cold outside as you lead the mark to the alley beside the bar. He presses you against the wall and it feels completely alien compared to when River did the same thing barely an hour before. He kisses you and you play along. While he's distracted and trying to grope your breasts over the top of the dress, you're in his pocket doing your job. A key card and the slip of paper you watched an aide pass him hours ago. Bingo. You push him off you quickly and turn away, faking a sudden bout of drunken sickness. You retch and moan, a hand out behind you to stop him getting closer. As if he would.

“Oh gross, forget it love, you're not that fit.” He leaves, disgusted and you count to twenty before standing straight and putting the loot in your bag. You hadn't seen River follow you out of the bar, it makes you wonder if your backup has deserted you. Just as you reach the street, a body blocks your path. “I knew you were too fuckin’ good to be true.” The mark sneered, forcing you to take a couple of steps back and away from the people leaving the bar. 

“You came back!” You coo, reaching for his lapel. “I’m feeling loads better.”

“Games up, bitch. Give it back, or I beat the shit out of you.”

“But we were getting along so nicely,” you pout, pushing the boat out in one last opportunity to win him back over. He's not keen to play along this time and his hand painfully grabs the top of your arm. His other hand reaches for the split in your dress and his rough fingers find the top of your thigh. You try to scream out but your voice catches in your throat in fear.

“I knew you were all fuckin’ talk, filthy slut.” He slaps you across the cheek and the stinging pain is immediate, it makes you feral with anger. You wriggle and wrestle and try to stamp on his feet, just to get a bit of movement away from him, and finally you're able to get out of his grip far enough to knee him in the balls. He crumples forward in pain. His arm stretches out to pull you back but behind you, another arm pulls you away from him and shoves you into the front seat of a car. River's car. It seems to take an age to get the car into gear and moving but luckily the mark is still bent over in agony. A few bystanders checking on him. Once you’re a safe enough distance away, you feel River watching you. The skirt of your dress has twisted and ridden up in the hurry to get into the car, exposing more of your legs and from the gritted teeth and deep swallow, you can tell he’s noticed. You straighten out in the seat and pop down the sun visor, your cheek is still a little pink but it’s hard to tell from the streetlights. The lipstick is still perfectly in place though.

“Where'd you go? I thought you’d left.”

“I wouldn’t have left. I saw him wink at one of his drongo mates as you left so I got out just ahead of you to get the car. Figured you’d need to act fast.”

“If you hadn’t turned up when you did-” Your previous bravado has all but abandoned you, leaving you underdressed and vulnerable.

“I know.” He replies quickly, his mouth set in a hard, angry line. “Did he hit you?”

“Slapped me.” You find a bottle of water between your two seats and wonder how long it’s been there before deciding you really don’t care and taking it anyway. He stops for a red light and takes a hand from the wheel to turn your face so he can see. His thumb caresses your cheek for a brief second until the car behind alerts him to the green light. He pulls up at your apartment and you sit in silence watching next door’s cat. You can feel the anger radiating from him, his shoulders tense and his hands white knuckled on the steering wheel at ten and two. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You tell him softly, “thanks for being there tonight.”

“Just doing my job.” 

These fatal fantasies

Giving way to labored breath

Taking all of me

We've already done it in my head

Once you’re alone, you kick your shoes off with such ferocity that the heel dents the cupboard door. You stand in the dark in your small kitchen and pour a nightcap. The window overlooks the small car park and you can see that River’s car hasn’t moved yet. As you move through the flat and pass the front door, you can hear shuffling just outside so you pull the door open.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” You ask, an exact replica of his earlier question. He doesn’t speak, he takes the glass from your hand and finishes the contents. He does attempt to put the glass on the table by the door but it’s too close to the edge and falls, glass shattering. Neither of you takes a scrap of notice, he’s on you before you can say another word, lips claiming yours in a messy kiss. Your hands scramble for purchase on his shoulders while his arms wrap around your waist and lift you enough off the floor that your bare feet are nowhere near the broken glass. He walks you forwards until he can press you into the doorframe. His kiss moves down your neck and he pulls the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders.

“You were right.” He mutters kissing along your collarbone.

“Was I?” You’re not sure how you can be expected to hold a conversation while he’s cupping your breast over your dress and running his thumb over your hardening nipple.

“I am fucking jealous.” Your back arches, pressing your chest to his, silently begging for more. “No one else touches you like that again.”

“Says who?” You challenge him. He kisses you again, a clash of teeth and tongue, a silent reply - a silent promise. His hands run down your body, but unlike the mark who groped aimlessly, River clearly has intention. He pulls at the lightly tied belt holding your dress closed until it’s barely clinging on. He pulls back to see your face, your firm nod of approval and kisses you more softly than he had previously. You can feel the anger and tension evaporating from him. With a final tug, the belt is undone and the dress begins to fall open. When his warm hands are at long last on your bare skin it’s like a green light. You scramble to pull his jacket off, throwing it to the floor closely followed by his shirt. He takes his time peeling the dress from your skin where it’s been held down by the tape and kisses the skin as it’s exposed to him bit by bit. When the dress is pooled at your feet your hands tangle in his hair. He nips at the curve of your breast, your ‘good handful’ dwarfed by his large hands. 

“You were wrong about one thing.” He says suddenly from the valley of your breasts.

“Enlighten me?” You lean back against the doorframe, grateful for the pause but still very distracted by his hands. 

“He wasn’t going to get on his knees for you.” Your eyes widen a little as he disappears from view. You can feel his hot breath against the cotton of your knickers. “Say now, and I’ll stop, and we can forget this ever happened?" 

"I don't want you to stop," you whisper. 

"Good." He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your soaked underwear and pulls them down your legs, then he nudges your legs apart and lifts one to drape it over his shoulder. "So wet," he teases, peppering her inner thighs with kisses. “Is this from him?” He licks a broad stroke through your folds, his nose nestling up against your clit. 

“You, only you-” you manage to reply. You can feel your knees shaking so he puts a firm hand on the hip of your raised leg to hold you steady. His other hand moves to join his determined mouth, he replaces his tongue and fucks you with his fingers, turning his attention to suck your clit.

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh

Only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh what a way to die

"Oh f-fucking fuck, Riv," You tangle a hand in his hair, partly to stop him from moving, and partly to keep yourself upright. His fingers, knuckle deep inside you, pump lazily in and out while he savours your taste, wanting to drag out your pleasure for as long as possible. Your dripping cunt aches for release but he doesn’t let up.

"You wanna come for me, love?" He murmurs as you whimper at the loss of his tongue.

"Yes, god yes -" your hips cant towards him, changing the angle so his fingers brush against your g-spot.

“You’re mine?” He asks so quietly you can hardly hear him over the pounding of your heart, he flicks his tongue over your clit, demanding an answer before he continues. 

“Yours, River, please-, fucking arrogant-” Your sentences go half finished once he’s happy with your answer, finally bringing you right to the edge and eagerly letting your cunt contract around his fingers. You’re not sure you can breathe any longer, let alone stand. He rests his head against your thigh as you lean limply into the doorframe. 

“I’m what now?” He asks smugly. He reappears in front of you, an arm around your waist to hold you up.

“Arrogant. Jealous. Annoying as fuck.” 

“Surely I’m not that bad?” He teases, kissing you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you melt against him. He lifts you with ease, “bedroom?” 

“Down the hall.” You’re about to chastise him for chucking you on the bed so unceremoniously but he’s already making himself very comfortable between your thighs again. 

“River?”

“Not done yet.” You're in pieces again even before you feel the wet slide of his tongue against your clit. He holds you down with one hand as you cant your hips towards him. 

"Fuckkk," you whine, hands desperately gripping the bed sheets. He gives your thigh a bite.

"Hold still," you can feel him smirk against you. It doesn't take much for him to have your legs shaking and you’re grateful to at least be lying down this time. You practically wail his name as you come, he's watching you come down, letting you think he's done with you before he goes back for more. By the time he's crawling up the bed to you, the need to have his skin against yours is sinful. You can barely form full sentences.

"Clothes, more, now". He laughs, a low rumble that you feel against your ribs.

“Hang on.” He rolls off you and grabs something from your bedside. You feel a weird sensation on your inner thigh, and sit up to see exactly what he’s up to now. He looks up with a satisfied smile having literally written mine on your skin. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Green eyed monster really got hold of you, didn’t it? Y’know if you wanted to ask me out, you could have?” You ask.

“I don’t think I realised how strongly I felt til I saw him all over you. Then when we were outside the bathroom, it felt like something changed?”

“C’mere,” You pull him on top of you and after hastily kicking off his jeans, he pushes into you in long, slow strokes, his whole body weighted against yours. After his earlier anger and jealousy, it’s surprisingly intimate and gentle. Your desperate pleas and praise ignites him and he holds you tightly, pressing you into the mattress as he fucks into you deliriously slowly, lewd noises filling the air. Your legs wrap around him, holding him against you. Your walls flutter around him as he makes you come again, sighing his name.

What if the way you hold me

Is actually what's holy?

“Had I known your jealousy was going to lead to this, I probably would have offered to go undercover a long time ago.” You mutter in the dark. You’re fairly sure he’s asleep, his nose is nestled into the crook of your neck, his long body curled around yours. It’s not until his snigger jostles you both that you realise he’s still awake. 

“Maybe I’ll go undercover next time.”

“I’m not sure you’d make a good honeytrap.”

“Rude, I can be pretty.”

“I know. I will rip the eyes out of any woman who so much as looks at you.” You tell him sleepily.

“Oh now I’m definitely signing up next time. Can’t wait to see you get all jealous.” He kisses your neck again as you drift off.

********

[jennay]

Jealousy

Request: what If u did another Noah fic where he’s with the musician reader and some dude is tryin to flirt and shit and Noah just ain’t having it- I’m a sucker for jealous, fluffy and protective Noah 😂 😩

Word Count 2700ish

Noah Master List

No warnings

An: I loved this a lot.

You should have paid attention to Noah's warning but shrugged it off as a possessive boyfriend thing.

However, you were spending a lot of time with Chris, working on the song he collaborated with you on. Your bands were touring together, and you knew Noah didn't like him much, but you couldn't refuse the label's request, especially for something as harmless as writing a song together.

"He looks at you like he wants to devour you," Noah says. “It's gross.”

You laugh at his remark. "Well, you're the only one who gets to do that, so I don't know why you're so worried." You hold his hand, pulling him through the crowded area.

You try to make your way to the stage where you will perform. You rarely walk past fans without being noticed, but everyone is too busy getting autographs or listening to music to pay attention to you.

When you reach the gate, security lets you in. You join your bandmates, leaving Noah to wander around by himself. He insisted on being there for moral support, but you suspected it was because the first song you played was the one with Chris in it.

Noah glances at Chris from the corner of his eye as he sees him approaching the stage, and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him while you discuss the set list with your bandmates.

You lean against his body, letting him hold you for peace of mind. Noah wasn't usually jealous, but something about Chris annoyed him and made him feel like he did have something to worry about.

"Ok, let's do this!" You tell them, and the four of you scatter to find your positions. "I love you." You say as you stand on your toes, trying to reach Noah's lips. You wrap your arms around his tattoed neck and hang back, "Don't be so grumpy." You lean forward, kissing his jaw. "I'll stay on the other side of the stage if that makes you happy."

Noah relaxes when he hears the sincerity in your voice. His hands find your hips, and he leans down to kiss you. "Break a leg…wait, don't actually break a leg, you know what I mean."

You giggle as he gets flustered by his words, and as you kiss him again, you see Chris watching you from the side.

"You ready?" You ask him.

"Let's go!" He says, excited.

Noah stares daggers at his back as he watches him follow you to the front of the stage. You wave at the crowd, greeting them and thanking them for coming to the show.

You introduce Chris to the audience, saying how grateful you are for this opportunity and excited to share this new song. The music starts, and Noah feels proud when he hears your voice sing into the mic. You were talented, and there was no denying that.

You walk around the stage singing and making small movements that you call dancing, but everyone knows you're not a dancer.

Noah can't take his eyes off you, especially when he sees Chris getting closer to you; at one point, his hand lands on your lower back, and he grabs your hand, forcing you to stand closer.

He feels a surge of anger rising in his chest, threatening to choke him with rage. He knows Chris is trying to get under his skin to make him jealous and insecure. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees you pull away from his touch, and you flip him off with a playful smile but still sing along with the music, acting like nothing happened. But to Noah, it’s everything. You glance at the side of the stage, where you catch Noah’s gaze burning with intensity.

You feel a thrill as you walk closer to him, and you blow him a kiss, making him smile for a second. You weren't shy about your love for Noah, and you didn't want anyone second-guessing your relationship with him.

The song ends, and you put your mic back on the stand. “Let’s hear it for Chris, everyone!” you say, pointing at him.

He bows and waves to the crowd, grinning. He hands the mic to the sound person and walks off the stage, stopping in front of Noah. He extends his hand, offering a friendly gesture, but Noah ignores it, glaring at him with contempt.

He shakes his head and gives him a look that says he’s not welcome here. You wonder what Chris said to Noah. What made him so angry?

After the show, you find Noah sitting on a plastic crate, looking much calmer and happier. His eyes sparkle with pride as he sees you.

“Hey babe!” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard, still feeling the rush of passion and adrenaline from your performance. “You good?” You ask, letting your hand drop to your side.

He stands up and nods, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I love watching you up there.”

You pull back slightly and gaze up at him, admiring him. Noah was the kind of person who could make anyone feel special with just a glance or a smile. He cared deeply for people, and it showed. You were proud of him for overcoming his past and becoming who he was. You knew he had faced many challenges and hardships, and you were glad he didn’t let them break him.

“So,” You say, slipping out of his embrace and tying your hair back into a ponytail. “Wanna tell me what happened over here with Chris?”

Noah shakes his head. He doesn’t want to upset you or seem like a jealous boyfriend. He just wants you to be safe and protected. “Just said hi.” He calmly speaks while wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You both attempt to sneak out the side gate and head toward the bus.

You raise your eyebrow at him, knowing he's clearly not telling the truth. “OK, well, we’re all meeting at the bar tonight to celebrate going home. Do you want to come, or will you pout in the hotel?” You tease him.

Noah stops walking and looks at you with a pained expression. “All I’m trying to do is protect you, and you’re acting like it’s nothing.” He says, his voice cracking.

You realize you’ve hurt his feelings. You didn’t mean to make light of his situation. “Babe,” you say, reaching for his hand, but he pulls away, and you can see the anger in his eyes. He’s not mad at you, but he’s struggling to control his emotions. “I’m sorry.” You say, biting your lip nervously. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Do you want to talk about this? Because I think we should talk about it.”

He sighs and rubs his forehead, trying to calm himself down. He doesn’t want to lash out at you or ruin your night. You’re not the problem, but he feels like he can’t explain himself right now. “I’m gonna go back to the room and relax. I’m not in the mood. I love you, and I don’t want to hurt you in any way. And I think I need some space right now. It’s not you…” He says quickly, seeing your worried face. He pauses, wraps his arm around your shoulder, and kisses your forehead. “If you want me to go tonight, I will. I just need some time and space to clear my head.”

You cuddle up to his chest and rest your head on his shoulder. “OK.” Is all you manage to say.

Noah still hadn't arrived at the bar yet, and you were beginning to wonder if he would. You tried texting him and calling him but received nothing; maybe he needed more space than he was admitting, so you decided you wouldn't bother him anymore, and you tried your best to put on a smile and enjoy your time with your friends.

You sit at the bar waiting for your drink. You feel a hand on your shoulder and quickly lift your head to face Patrick, your drummer, “Wanna play some pool?” He yells over the loud music, “It's you and me versus Chris and Jake.”

You nod, grabbing your drink from the bartender and following Patrick to the pool tables.

“Holy shit!” Chris says hi-fiving you. “You’re gonna play?” He asks. “I feel like (y/n) and I should be on a team.”

Patrick laughs in amusement as he scrapes the chalk against the tip of his pool stick, “I think (y/n) I will be on a team unless you're willing to get the fuck knocked out by Noah.”

Chris smirks, his eyes locking on you. “Where is your puppy anyway?” He taunts.

You roll your eyes at Chris’s remark, feeling annoyed by his attitude. You don’t appreciate him calling Noah a puppy or implying that you should be on his team.

You can tell he's trying to make you doubt your relationship with Noah. You’re not going to let him do that. Why you didn't see this earlier? Maybe it was because Chris couldn't speak to you when Noah was around.

“Fair warning, if you keep running your mouth, you’ll probably get a pool stick to the back of your head.” You say it like you're joking, but you're not.

Patrick nearly choked on his drink. “Fuck,” He wipes his shirt. “Are we gonna play, or are we gonna sit here and fight all night.” He points at Chris, “You shut the fuck up, or I’m taking her, and we're gonna go play darts with the others.”

You watch as the boys move around the table, taking their shots, and when you go to take yours, you feel someone touching the back of your pool stick.

You know it's Chris and whip around, scowling at him. You push his hand away, feeling angry and disgusted by his touch. “Don’t touch me.” You snap at him. “You’re not helping, you’re just being a jerk.”

Chris laughs, unfazed by your rejection. “Come on, don’t be like that. You’re wasting your time with that loser. He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t even care about you. He’s probably cheating on you right now.”

You feel rage and hurt at his words. You know he’s lying, but you can’t help but feel insecure and worried. Where is Noah? Why hasn’t he answered your calls or texts? Is he OK?

You shake your head, trying to ignore Chris’s taunts. You focus on the game, hoping to end it quickly and get away from him. You take your shot but miss the ball completely. You curse under your breath, feeling frustrated and embarrassed.

Chris smirks, enjoying your misery. “Nice shot, babe. Maybe you need some more practice. Or maybe you need a better teacher. I can show you how to play if you know what I mean.” He winks at you, making a suggestive gesture with his pool cue.

You feel a wave of nausea wash over you, disgusted by his lewd implication. Patrick is about to say something, but even he looks shocked by Chris’s words. Before you can react, you see a black flash as someone snatches the cue stick from your hand and you step back in surprise. You recognize Noah, who must have been watching from somewhere. You are grateful for his intervention.

Noah stands next to you, leaning on the pool stick and staring at Chris with cold eyes. He gently turns to you and says, “Let me handle this. Can you get me a drink, please?” He leans down and kisses you softly as he hands you his wallet.

You nod your head and grab Patrick by the hand, eager to get away from the other two. “Hey, it’s my turn next,” Patrick protests.

“Trust me, you don’t want to be there,” You say, pulling him along.

You and Patrick make your way to the bar, where you order a drink for Noah and one for yourself.

You glance back at the pool table, where Noah and Chris are still locked in a tense stare-down.

Patrick nudges you with his elbow and gives you a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, Noah can handle himself. He’s a tough guy, you know.” He says, trying to cheer you up.

You smile back at him, “Yeah, I know.”

Patrick nods and sips his drink. He looks around the bar, which is crowded with people and loud music. He spots a group of girls dancing near the DJ booth, and his eyes light up. “Hey, do you want to dance?” He asks you, pointing at them.

You shake your head, not in the mood for dancing. “No, thanks. I think I’ll just wait here for Noah.” You say, looking at the pool table again.

Patrick shrugs and sets down his drink.“Suit yourself. I’ll be back in a bit.” He walks over to the girls.

You watch him go, feeling envy. You wish you could be as carefree as him, but you can’t stop worrying about Noah. You finish your drink and take Noah’s drink with you. You walk back to the pool table.

"Dude, you're blatantly trying to fuck my girlfriend. You're not trying to hide it, so yeah, it is a problem." You can see Noah's neck muscles flex as he talks to Chris.

You know he has a temper, and you don’t want him to get into a fight with Chris. You hurry over to the pool table, hoping to calm him down.

You put your hand on his shoulder and say, “Hey, Noah, can we talk for a minute?” You look at Chris pleadingly, hoping he will back off.

Chris smirks and says, “Sure, go ahead. Talk to your boyfriend. Maybe you can explain to him why you were flirting with me all night.” He picks up his cue and starts to leave.

“Fuck you!” You yell at him. “You’re such a piece of shit!” You say, walking toward him like you're about to throw hands.

You feel Noah’s strong arms around your waist, pulling you away from Chris’s path. He spins you around to face him, his smile warm and reassuring. “You’re so feisty. You don’t even need me here.” He says with a chuckle. “But I’m not gonna let you fight a grown-ass man.”

You look into his eyes, and your anger melts away. He always knows how to calm you down. “Can we just get out of here? I never want to see his face again. If I do, I swear I’ll lose it.”

He nods and gently tilts your chin, making you meet his gaze. His hair falls over his forehead as he leans down and kisses you softly. “I tried to warn you.” He whispers against your lips. “He’s bad news.”

You giggle and wrap your hands around his face, brushing his hair. “I thought you were just being jealous.”

He shakes his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “No, I was just being protective. You’re mine, and I don’t like anyone messing with you.” He says, his voice low and husky.

He wraps his arms around you and lifts you up, making you squeal. “Now, let’s get out of here and go somewhere more fun.” He says, carrying you through the crowded bar.

You wrap your legs around him and kiss him passionately, letting everyone know that you belong to each other and nothing can break you apart. Without breaking your kiss, You put your middle finger in the air once more, reminding Chris that the only part he had in your relationship was the part where he fucked off.

[imagine--if]

banda protecting quiet reader during jack of hearts?

A/N: This was the second most voted after Chishiya, so ya, enjoy 😁 I did some headcanons because I felt like an imagine would be too long and complicated haha 🖤 also there's a bit of Chishiya x reader near the end 😏

♡ Banda Being Protective Includes... ♡

💜• Banda probably noticed you being your quiet self, once everyone's gathered together and he's assessing the players around him in his head. Like, the Jack intrigued him since he already had an air of superiority and independence about him, and Banda picks up on those things about a person with mild interest as he waits to see what they'll do and if they're worth his time. So when he sees you watching everyone starts to exclaim at the game's strange rules and how they could be trapped in it forever, and then you just sitting quietly by yourself, his grey-blue gaze lingers, and he stalks over to you.

💜• We know what he's like at this point - basically antagonising the person with some backhanded compliment that could be considered an insult, before he follows it up with an offer of alliance or friendship. So with you, you'll get something like, "Being this quiet will only make people want to kill you more. They'll think you're up to something." And as you stare at him uneasily, his serious expression suddenly morphs into a smirk, as he comments, "I hope you are. I'll help."

💜• Yeah, he's an odd guy 😅 but at least you're not one of his targets or anything. For the first couple of rounds, he won't do much in terms of communication and protection, not just yet. Banda wants to see if you can survive on your own, if you're smart enough. And when it's proved that you are, it only makes you more of a pretty curiosity, and that's when he'll start shadowing you and speaking for you when you don't want to.

💜• It's a little similar to that woman who Jack secretly communicated with and the other psycho if you know what I mean 😂 but less servant-master vibes, and more partner vibes. For example, if someone's asking you too many questions, or if the bouncy manipulator girl tries getting into your head with a sweet smile, he'll make a remark from sitting behind you or something. One remark, but its what he says and the way he says it that's all they need to get the picture and back up with a confused and uncomfortable look on their face.

💜• Banda's way of protecting you comes through telling you the truth about what card symbol is on your collar, basically following you around wherever you go, speaking for you when you prefer to stay silent and simply look, and whispering things to you for you to whisper back in your naturally hushed tone when its something private or important about the game.

💜• I'm gonna throw in some Chishiya here because I can't help it 😉 you'll come to realise that Banda's protective nature over a mysteriously quiet and observant person can be borderline possessive when the game's drawing to a close and he's become more attached and obsessive. So, when there are only a few of you left, and Chishiya's lost his partner, naturally coming over to you to try to convince you not to ally yourself with Banda because he's a murderer... 😵

💜• Suddenly Banda himself steps from behind you with a dangerous glint in his eyes you've never seen before, and whispers something in Chishiya's ear that you can't hear. When Banda pulls away with a self-satisfied smirk, and takes your hand to pull you away, Chishiya's left watching after him blankly, his usually amused features slightly caught off guard by whatever threat Banda breathed into his ear. It doesn't stop Chishiya from trying to figure you out though - if anything, it intreguies him, though he'll be more sneaky in the ways he does it so as not to catch Banda's attention.

💜• If you ask Banda what he said, he'll only shrug and give you a half-smile, tracing a finger down your cheek to hook impossibly softly under your chin with "Don't you like me protecting you, baby?"

💜• And you're just like 😶

💜• So when the game finishes, and Banda and the other guy go after Jack, Banda manages to get a hold of some sort of tracker and makes you keep it on you. "I've got some things to do for us," he'll tell you with a casual smile, "but I'll come back from you. I'll be watching. Always. Can't let anything happen to this pretty face, can I?"

💜• And he won't. But meanwhile, Chshiya's observing the scene hidden behind a wall somehwere in interest.

okay maybe i should follow this storyline up with an imagine now cus im loving it bahaha

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

Chapter 6

CW: lots of angst, jealousy is not even the right word to describe neteyam's state anymore, emotionally hurt neteyam, yandere neteyam, reader has a hard time trying to fight her feelings for neteyam, mentions of using someone with the intention of forgetting someone else, mild violence, mentions of sexual fluids, possessive and territorial neteyam, mentions of depressive symptoms, use of alcohol, feelings of fear, tension, confessions of love, fluff. I think that's all (??)

✨ IM BACK ✨ I can't even believe I managed to finally update this fanfic! 😂 All of a sudden I spent days on end being a 24/7 nurse for my spayed kitten and didn't have time for anything + having to give her 2 different pills at 2 different times, all during the am hours, plus another one in the morning, left me SOOO sleep deprived. It was horrible. Thank God she doesn't have to take the pills anymore. ANYWAY lol Guys, in the beginning of the chapter until the middle of it, I think, I know you guys are gonna want to murder me or reader or both (you know that y/n meme with the pic of the blonde girl "choking" her own shadow in the wall, saying like "babe this is not us" or smth? so… pretty much that! lol) BUT I PROMISE it's gonna be really good in the end 🥲 trust me, please 🥺 it's the moment most of us (yes, me included!) have been waiting for! 💕 Also, this is a longer chapter, compared to the usual. Maybe a compensation for my absence? Idk! lol I just hope you guys like it! haha OKAY if I say anything else, it'll be a spoiler lol love y'all to death!!! my readers are my babies, my lil angels… I truly freaking love you guys so much!!! 🫀⚘

Not proofread.

Chapter 5

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body

Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

(...)

I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancin' on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury 

exile (Taylor Swift, Bon Iver)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The air was thick and chaotic at the Olo'eyktan's hut that morning. Everyone seemed to be a bit too restless, either getting ready to go show up to their duties to the clan, like Neytiri, or thinking about some personal struggle, like Kiri, who was lost in thought, looking a bit sad. But she was also mixing some herbs and flowers, preparing a thick, violet colored substance that was used to treat wounds, that she would later give to Neytiri. Kiri would always help Neytiri a lot, assisting her in her Tsahìk position in the Omatikaya clan.

But Neteyam still stood out among the whole family. He was unmistakably grumpy that morning, Lo’ak noticed, as he was - once again - watching the weird way his older brother was behaving. Neteyam was not being his usual calm and caring self. He was not trying to take care of everyone, not giving out smiles and trying to cheer his siblings up. He was even distracted when Jake was giving him instructions about how today's training would go and giving him other orders, like telling him to keep an eye on Tuk whenever he's able to, as she was growing and becoming even smarter, more energetic and mischievous and was starting to get into more trouble, sometimes even picking fights with other girls in the clan, becoming a bit too much like Lo'ak, which had been making Jake rub the sides of his forehead in worry lately, way more often than he liked to admit.

"The Mighty Warrior, distracted when dad is telling him what to do?! What the fuck is happening?!" Lo'ak thought. Something was very wrong. And Lo’ak was determined to find out what it was.

Neteyam sat with his legs slightly open, his hands were crossed, his elbows resting on his knees. He had a lost stare in his eyes, gazing at the nothingness, looking like he was mad at someone who had just maybe punched him in the face.

He did not know how to deal with it all, that turmoil of emotions you were causing inside him felt overwhelming to the Sullys first born. He had taken on just so many challenges throughout his life and conquered most of them, but he feared you were gonna be a war that he might lose. He had to admit it bruised his ego. Suddenly, he did not feel like such a Mighty Warrior after all. An adversary that most people would judge as a weak one compared to him, a mere human girl, so small in comparison to his size, was defeating him. Suddenly all his skills with bows, arrows, big knives and even big, intimidating shotguns were not enough.

And Neteyam felt lost. He did not know what to do. For the first time in his life, his rational and smart brain could not seem to produce a war strategy that could help him win. Win you. He felt just like a wounded warrior, bleeding on the floor.

༊⁀➷

You decided to finally answer Derek’s messages today, after ghosting him for a while. You were feeling weird and lonely. And shaken. God, still so shaken... What the hell happened last night? Did that really happen? Was it all just a dream? You could swear those words Neteyam Suli had given you, about how he was in love with you, that his hauntingly tall and broad figure, vulnerable, kneeling on the ground in front of you, telling you he could tell you desired him too, had all been just part of a weird, eerie, anxious, borderline wet dream.

You knew very well what you were doing to Derek. You were using him to forget about the mess Neteyam was making of you. You knew that was wrong and you did feel guilty and ashamed. But you also knew you had to step back into your old reality, into that familiar world, into your comfort zone, a place where there were only regular human guys interested in you, not that current unsettling reality you were living in - you could still swear it had all just been a dream. Or a nightmare, perhaps. You were not sure -, where there was an almost 10 feet tall alien boy pursuing you, declaring his love and his nearly inappropriate desire for you, talking about the intimate parts of your body in a way that made you uncomfortable, anxious but... that lured you in too, at the same time. You needed an escape from it all. Your already disturbed mind did not seem able to deal with those facts at that moment and Derek seemed like the perfect distraction. 

Damn, what had you become? That was not ethical or moral at all - using a human being like a tool to distract you from your conflicting emotions - but you did not seem to be capable of caring too much about being ethical or moral at that time. Your whole perception of the world seemed to be changing. You felt bedazzled and unsteady. You did not want to admit to yourself that you were starting to feel too much for Neteyam, that you were running away from your feelings like a thief runs away with an expensive item he just robbed. No, you were not in love with him. How could that even be? Everybody knew the na’vi don’t get romantically involved with humans. Your races were more like enemies than buddies. There were only a few humans who were loyal to the na'vi and maintained a somewhat close relationship with them, but never a romantic one. What was making you and Neteyam feel like that for each other? That could only bring problems and you sure as hell did not want more trouble in your already complicated life.

You would be better off sticking to a human male instead. It was safe and familiar. It did not make your anxiety skyrocket. But it also did not excite you a single bit. Derek caused you nothing. You could barely even feel actually turned on when he touched your body and kissed your lips. It was just like he was a habit you had gotten used to, making out with him here and there, to numb the pain you felt inside your heart almost all the time. His biggest efforts to make you wet never seemed to work. Meanwhile, Neteyam got you wet without having ever touched you. That sure spoke loud enough. 

So why were you rejecting Neteyam and going after Derek?

Maybe you felt too afraid to take a risk, to follow your heart. God knows following that damn reddish muscular organ had put you in the worst situations possible in the past. You felt numb but you felt safe. And safe felt good. Bearable, at least. You were afraid if you gave into what you felt for Neteyam you just might explode. The feelings were that strong. You did not know what to do to try and ignore that tiny but extremely annoying creature inside your brain that would always be whispering “What if something actually good came out of it? Take a risk. For once in your life, don’t play it safe.”

But you were choosing to play it safe, anyway. At least this afternoon. You were gonna meet Derek, after two weeks without doing so, and just hang out, eat junk food, drink some alcohol and talk about non important things, just laugh and be silly, like you two always used to do. He was a good friend. Too bad he never made any type of fire light up inside of you, not even in the very beginning of your rendezvous, that’s why you never got to have sex with him. You were simply not interested. At all, to be honest. You wondered why you still insisted on being physically intimate with him. There were many things in your life that you did and did not really think too much about. They were just pure routine, they just kinda happened and you let them, almost like you weren't really living your life, but only a mere spectator to the events that were happening to you. And it seemed like you felt too emotionally numb to put an end to them. Your involvement with Derek was one of those things. He started to flirt with you one day, you were bored and you thought "why not?" and now, months later, you were still caught in this situation. If anyone asked you if there was any other reason why you were gonna see Derek today other than to try and get Neteyam out of your mind, you honestly couldn't say there was. It was crystal clear to you that, even though you were fighting like crazy to deny your feelings for Neteyam, you were indeed falling for him.

But how could that be? Some days ago, he was only an Omatikaya famous warrior - and, oh, let's not forget, the next Olo'eyktan of their clan - that you had only heard people talk about.

༊⁀➷

Neteyam was up in one of the highest tree branches he could find that day. He did not want anybody to see him, as usual, but he also did not want you to know he was watching you, either. He knew you were now aware of his constant presence around you. He knew you were not oblivious to his love anymore.

The sun was harassing his eyes, so he put his hand over them and squinted hard to try and see if the guy next to you, in the laboratory’s cafeteria, was really who he thought it was. When his eyes could get a better view, once the sun was not bothering them so much anymore, he felt something sinking in his stomach and his heartbeat accelerated considerably.

He had just confirmed who the guy was. It was that disgusting little human male that liked to act like you were his mate. Neteyam hissed ferociously, his protruding na’vi fangs looking scarier than ever, as his wide feline eyes watched Derek leaning close to your face and kissing your lips. Neteyam wanted to die - or maybe kill Derek - when he noticed you kissed him back.

༊⁀➷

You forced a smile while looking at Derek, after you had the initiative to break that damn kiss who seemed to never end. He seemed satisfied with the fact that you two had just kissed, contrary to what you were feeling. You honestly felt like you wanted to throw up. All you could think about was how it would feel to kiss Neteyam, to smell his scent again, that was so abundantly different from what you were used to, but that fact only seemed to make you want him even more.

You looked away to try and forget the ridiculous mistake you were making by being with Derek at that moment. You were looking at the ground and your gaze moved upwards. Now your eyes were directed towards the outside of the lab. What you saw startled you beyond reason. Neteyam was squatting, up in the branches of a huge tree, not too close but not too far from the part of the laboratory you and Derek were currently in. His fangs were out, seeming bigger than ever, as he hissed ferociously. Neteyam's animalistic side had completely taken over him and you could tell.

A chill ran down your spine. You could feel in your guts something bad was about to happen.

Your heart throbbed in pain as you saw how hurt he was now that he had seen you kissing Derek, even after he - Neteyam - had confessed his feelings for you in such a vulnerable way last eclipse. You saw in his eyes how betrayed he felt, like you were just silently telling him that his love did not matter at all to you and you'd rather be with any other guy but him.

༊⁀➷

"Hey, I'm going outside for a while, 'kay?" Derek spoke as he got up from the place he had been sitting, beside you, kissing your cheek "The boys are gonna meet me behind the lab in a while. "

Oh, no. Derek would not be safe if he went outside. Not with Neteyam spilling hate for him out of his soul like that. You had to try and find a way to keep Derek inside.

"Oh." You said, not being able to conceal your nervousness "Why don't you wait for them to actually get there before you go?!" You almost begged, visibly tense

"God, you seem nervous." He chuckled slightly, seeming uncomfortable " Is everything alright?"

"Yeah! I just want you to spend some more time with me." You pouted at him, coming up with an excuse to try and keep Derek from going out of the lab

"Sorry, sugar. It was nice hanging out and stuff but I really need to go now." He was already walking fast towards the door before you could try and talk him out of that stupid idea

You couldn't let any of the people in that cafeteria know something was up, so, you pretended everything was alright and finished eating your chips and took the last sip of your canned whisky and coke and stood up, walking slowly (when you actually wanted to freaking run) in the direction of the lab's metal door that led to outside.

You put your oxygen mask on, took a deep breath and walked out the door. 

You heard a noise, it was like a really heavy object falling to the floor. You also heard some strong thuds.

When you started to walk around to try and see what was happening, you realized your fear had become reality. Neteyam was sitting on top of Derek’s squirming body, his toned, striped thighs straddling Derek’s torax. You gasped when you realized Derek was no longer wearing his oxygen mask and Neteyam's huge hand was over Derek's mouth, preventing him from screaming for help. Neteyam looked at him like a hunter looks at their prey, while his big fangs and loud hisses put fear in the human boy's eyes. Derek was completely terrified.

Your heart beat sped up insanely and your hands were now cold as ice. You were afraid for Derek’s life.

You knew that the way Neteyam was taking out his frustration and jealousy on Derek was indescribably far from okay but still, as cruel to Derek as it seemed, you still felt incredibly sorry for the Omatikaya in front of you.

At the end of the day, you had a big percentage of blame for what he was doing right now. You were confused and afraid and torn but you knew to whom your heart belonged and it was not Derek. So why the hell were you being so selfish to the point of hurting two boys at the same time just because you didn't know how to deal with your own feelings? You realized it was time for you to stop being a coward and put an end to that madness.

You could tell Neteyam was not okay mentally and you knew that you were being toxic too, that you were contributing for his mental state to get worse with your indecisiveness and fear, despite his efforts to show you he would never hurt you. You wanted to stop hurting him and help him instead, to finally let go and admit to yourself and to him that yes, despite the way you had been acting, you were in love with him too.

"Neteyam, don't!! Let him go, please!!" You shouted, running towards the human and the na'vi boy.

You finally got close to Neteyam. He stopped and looked at you, his eyes so fiery, the calm golden pools they always used to be were now boiling with feelings of anger, jealousy, hurt and betrayal.

"For me! Please?" You pleaded him, looking deep into his eyes while stroking his strong blue arm

You watched that beast inside of Neteyam slowly calm down, as his feline ears pointed downwards and his eyes became softer. He moved his hand away from Derek’s mouth and the human boy let out a series of labored breaths. Neteyam slowly got off of him, revealing his beyond intimidating height as he stood up, and stepped away from him.

You walked as fast as you could to where Derek's oxygen mask was laying on the floor and picked it up, checking if was broken (it wasn't! Thank you, Universe.) and went back to where he was lying down and gave it back to him.

Neteyam watched your movements and felt jealous when you got close to Derek, so, once you got back to the place where you were standing before, Neteyam stood right next to your arm. His instincts told him to mark his territory.

Derek swiftly put it back on. He was almost completely out of breath. Derek breathed in deep once the mask was covering his face, taking in all the oxygen he possibly could.

"Are you okay?" You looked down at Derek’s body, searching for any visible wounds. There were none, at best. "God, I'm so sorry about this…"

"Yeah, I'm fine, somehow." Derek seemed afraid, shocked, frustrated and angry, all simultaneously, as he got off the floor and got back on his feet

"Please, don't tell anyone that you saw Neteyam or that he tried to hurt you, okay?"

"What the fuck?!! This psycho almost tried to kill me!! Why are you defending him?!"

Neteyam hissed at him when he heard what he had just called him but you squeezed his arm and he looked at you, remembering your pleas were the thing that were keeping him from killing that small, pink male. Even though it hurt him deeply that you were protecting that human, he couldn't bring himself to ignore you when you were begging him not to hurt Derek. You had Neteyam in the palm of your hand.

"You don't understand! If you let anyone in that lab know what Neteyam did to you, the RDA will eventually know about it too! Do you understand how serious this is? Do you wanna see Neteyam dead?!" You urged him, looking deep into his eyes "You could even help start another war between the humans and the na'vi. Do you understand that it is a much bigger issue than it seems to be? Just forget about what happened and I'll make sure Neteyam won't ever try to hurt you again."

Derek smirked in contempt 

"How can you be so sure he will listen to you?"

"I know he will! He loves me. And… I love him too."

Derek’s face had a big question mark all over it now and his mouth fell open.

Neteyam seemed to be shocked for a while. He did not expect you to say that, at all. He thought you would never love him back. Neteyam couldn't seem to believe those words had actually just come out of your mouth.

You breathed in deep, trying to stay calm amidst all that chaos "This thing between us…" You looked at Derek "It's over. I don't know why I was still insisting on it, I never even felt attracted to you, in the first place. I'm sorry."

"I'm outta here! All of this shit that's going on… feels like a fucking nightmare"

"Can you do as I said and not tell anyone about Neteyam? Nobody, ever? Please?!" You were nervous, brows furrowed, talking fast

"Okay!! Just let me go now! I think it's better if you and I keep some distance from each other from now on. I don't want your crazy na'vi boyfriend trying to kill me again." 

Neteyam hissed at Derek again when he heard the word "crazy" and Derek rapidly looked at him, startled, but couldn't be brave enough to spend more than some seconds staring at him, so, he swiftly looked away 

"Neteyam, please!! He's going already." You looked at Neteyam, a bit angry and impatient, asking him to calm down "Just go, Derek." You spit out and sighed, feeling physically and mentally drained after having to stop that stupid fight

Derek finally turned his back to you and Neteyam and left.

You looked at Neteyam. His eyes were glued on you. Those pretty amber eyes. His face wasn't full of hatred and anger anymore. His demeanor was much calmer now. His body language radiated love towards you. His tail was wagging softly. You felt pain and regret consuming your chest. How could you have treated Neteyam so badly last night? You realized now you couldn't hold him to the same standards you hold human males. The na'vi are animalistic beings, in spite of their high intelligence. And worse, how could you be irresponsible enough to kiss Derek even not actually wanting to, making Neteyam see it and get as hurt as he did? You sure were being trashy.

"My tawtute…" he cooed as he turned to look in your eyes "I won't let you run away from me anymore." Neteyam had a big smile on his lips "I don't care if you try to. That's all I needed to hear, that you love me. Now that you've said it, even if you didn't say it directly to me, I'm gonna fight for you even harder, even if you keep trying to push me away, I will keep bothering you." He kept smiling, blissful "You're like an Ikran. I just need to be patient with you. Eventually, I'll tame you and you'll be mine. All mine, hi'ì 'emyu." (small cook) "Bonded to me through tsaheylu. I can be patient and I will be."

You could only look at him, stare at his face and ask yourself why. Why was he willing to put so much work into making you his mate? 

"I'm not gonna run away from you anymore." You finally said "I'm done running. I'm done keeping myself miserable and alone because I'm too afraid to trust you and let you in. While trying to keep myself "safe", I was hurting myself and hurting you. I'm not doing that anymore, Neteyam. I was so stupid… I can't really say what it is, but there's just something about you… I think about you all the time, since the first time I saw you when you appeared for me outside that window. I don't believe someone can fall in love so fast but…" You were about to burst into tears "I'm in love with you."

Neteyam looked at you with the biggest smile on his plump lips, while his heart beat uncommonly fast inside his chest. He was overwhelmed with joy but as he was seeing the tears welling up in your eyes, he felt like he was about to cry too. But he didn't. Having learned throughout his whole life to always act with self control and rationality in front of everyone, - not really by choice, but because he knew that was how the Olo'eyktan to be should act, to keep a good reputation, to let his people know he was strong enough to control his emotions and not let them get in the way of him making good decisions for the Omatikaya - his ability to show some aspects of his feelings was a bit impaired now and that included crying. Even though he almost cried in front of you when you rejected him, he couldn't bring himself to cry of joy, now that you were saying that you wanna be with him too.

"I'm sorry for… what you saw. Me and Derek. I never liked him, Neteyam. He was just-"

"Yawne, no." Neteyam interrupted " It's okay. I don't wanna hear about that human." He looked disgusted only by the thought of Derek "And I don’t want you thinking about him either. You're mine now. Just forget about him. It's me that you like, right?" He gave you a gentle smile now and you nodded your head positively "Then focus on me, yawntutsyìp."

You looked at him, shyly, and smiled

"So… Can I ask for a hug, now?" your heart beat fast inside your chest cavity as you nervously said that

"Oeyä tawtute…" (my human) "You don't even need to ask." He opened his big, strong arms as he spoke "Come here."

༊⁀➷

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[yingxtkm]

Did anyone let you yap on the ask game?? IF NOT I AM HERE!! For Sephiroth!

1. Do you project onto this character?

2. Did you always like this character?

3. What first drew you to this character?

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

Unfortunately no HAHAHA but I kinda expected it since I kinda don’t interact with the community that much until recently even then it’s still pretty minimal /sweats

But thanks for sending the ask hehe 💖💖

1) Uhh not that I know of?? I usually don’t really project on charas in general for some reason, even if they’re considered comfort characters oddly enough.

2) Surprisingly, no. Explanation: Question 3

3) Ironically, when I first got into ff7 I adored Cloud, (not that I don’t even now but he’s kind of in the background for me being a grump as usual), Sephiroth didn’t really interest me bc I personally already dislike toxic/possessive tropes so Post Nibel Seph was a huge turn off for me (surprise, I don’t care for sefikura LMAO) and he just existed as that pretty villain I can just admire from afar but all my attention was on Cloud being a stupid dork with Aerith and Avalanche.

Now, it became a different story when I found out about Pre Nibel Seph. I’ve always been a sucker for gap moe and just really closed off characters that seem untouchable on the outside but in reality they’re very vulnerable and gentle/soft. That human aspect of him wanting to fit in but never being able to bc of his upbringing really clicked for me and I was like wow, ok I actually really love this character before he went batshit insane and decided yeah man fuck the Planet, it’s gonna go kaboom and I get to be with my not mommy forever! Tldr: Sad wet cat Sephiroth lives in my head rent free now

Fun fact: I actually found a poster of Pre Nibel Seph at a convention a few years ago and immediately bought it without a second thought lmao (**image down below)😭😭

4) No, uhhhhh I’m that kind of person that doesn’t get really insanely passionate over whether I love or hate a character, it floats between I simply don’t care about them or I ignore them if they don’t interest me, so when I first got into FF7 he was kinda just. There. That is until Pre Nibel Seph decided to kick down the door and say surprise motherfucker 😂😂

Wow ok that’s a lot. Thanks for listening to my TED talk LOL