#dropping rhis here hi

[hugs2doie]

BRO I AM HAECHAN DEPRIVED CAN YOU PLS DO ENEMIES TO LOVERS HAECHAN TEXTS PLSPLSPLSPLSPL

enemies to lovers with haechan

[haledamage]

talk me down

@queen-scribbles HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAIT!!! 💗💗💗💗 I thought you could use some more Tragen/Marii in your life 😉 well, this is way back on Yavin during all that Revan business, so it’s pre-ship, but I’m at least 95% sure this is Marii’s “oh no” moment. She’s definitely crushing on him by this point (and who could blame her, really?) XD I hope you enjoy, and you have the BEST day!

title from the song “talk me down” by People I Like, which just evokes the perfect mood for this story 💗

---

Twilight on Yavin 4 was long and slow, the sky lingering in gold and then gray for what felt like hours before night finally fell. The Coalition went their separate ways to make camp, as always; the Republic and Empire may have been willing to work together--for now--but they were still a long way from trusting each other while they slept.

With a few notable exceptions.

Marii sat on the edge of a cargo loader a few meters off the ground, letting her legs dangle over the open air beneath her and resting her elbows on the railing. Below her, her own little coalition was in the middle of making dinner. Kira and Vette spoke animatedly about something she was too far away to hear, Doc occasionally chiming in with something that made both women roll their eyes. Only Jaesa seemed to be actually working on cooking, but she smiled to herself as she listened to the conversations around her. Lord Scourge loomed near the edge of the camp, watching but keeping his distance as he always did, and Tragen was--

“Good evening, Aramarii.”

--Was right behind her. Curse his uncanny ability to sneak up on her. Even with the Force she could only sense him if he wanted her to.

“Hey.” She tilted her head up as he came to stand next to her. “Did they kick you outta the kitchen too?”

There was still enough light for her to see his wry smile. “Something like that. Mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest.”

Tragen sat down next to her, looking impossibly graceful as he did so. Marii wasn’t sure if she envied him for it or just admired him.

They sat in silence for a while, letting the descending night settle comfortably around them. It was… nice. Peaceful, even. She let her eyes slip closed and basked in it for a moment, the buzz of night insects and conversation from below, the cooling air and the warmth radiating from the man--the friend? She liked to think they could call each other friend by now--beside her.

When Tragen finally spoke, he kept his voice quiet enough to not break the serenity around them. “Jaesa told me you spoke with her this afternoon.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but Marii flinched anyway. “A little, yeah. I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course it is. I suspect you have quite a bit in common.” She could feel him watching her and knew he could see her clearly even as it grew darker. He saw everything, it felt like. “May I ask what you talked about?”

“All sorts of things. The Jedi. The Sith. You.” She finally opened her eyes and looked his way. “She told me about how the two of you met. About what you did.”

“And what did I do?” he asked carefully. All the warmth in his voice and expression were gone, turned cool and guarded.

On instinct, Marii reached out and covered his hand with hers where it rested on the railing. “You saved her, Tragen.” 

That coldness was gone as quickly as it’d arrived, replaced first by surprise and then by a smile bright enough to push away the encroaching darkness. It made her face grow warm and something in her chest feel strangely weightless.

She pushed the feeling away quickly. This was not the right time to examine that reaction or what it could mean.

Marii managed to maintain eye contact, at least, though she had to clear her throat before she could continue. “She said her master had big plans for her. So did yours. You chose a different path.”

Tragen scratched at the back of his neck and looked away for the first time since he sat down. “She chose the path herself. I just showed her it was there.”

She studied his profile, the line of his nose and sharp edge of his jaw perfectly silhouetted against the lights of the camps below. “I wish I’d had someone like you,” she whispered, the confession escaping while she was distracted, “to do the same for me.”

“Do you want to be Sith, Aramarii?” He was whispering too, like somehow Satele or Marr would be able to hear them from the other side of the clearing. Like they were kids telling secrets after curfew. Like the biggest rule they were breaking by sitting there together was just staying up too late.

“No.” That much, at least, she was sure of. “But… well, you may have noticed that the Jedi encampment is over there.” She pointed to the farthest side of the clearing where a meditation circle had been set up, separate even from the rest of the Republic camp. “And I’m way over here.”

He hummed, an acknowledgement that he was listening while choosing not to interrupt.

Marii chose to blame her responding shiver on the chill settling in as full night fell at last.

Even as dark as it was, she could still make out the green of his eyes as she made her second confession of the night. “I’m not very good at being a Jedi, Tragen. I get attached.”

He chuckled, low and a little playful. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“So I’m told.” She spoke with the drone of a lecture, repeating words she’d heard many times before. “Attachment can make you selfish. Make you put the life of one person over the lives of others.” She sighed, scrubbed a hand roughly through her hair as if it was to blame for her crisis of faith. “The Order’s strict about it. No family, no lovers, no children, not even any close friendships. That’s why Theron and Satele are… the way they are.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“I wouldn’t know. As I said, I’m not a good Jedi.”

Tragen let out a sigh of his own, leaning forward to rest his chin on the rail, looking out over the jungle. “I wish I could say the Sith were better at it. Passion may be encouraged, but… it is hard to build a relationship without trust, and there is no trust among Sith.” There was an ache in his normally warm voice, sad and bitter and resigned all at once. “The closer one gets, the easier it is for them to stab you in the back.”

Marii squeezed his hand, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. After a moment, he squeezed back.

“Sounds lonely,” she echoed, unsure what else to say.

“It is. It used to be.” He looked down at their camp and the mismatched group of lost and wayward souls they’d both collected. “They make things better.”

“Yes. They do.” And so do you, she almost said, but the words never made it past her lips. Probably for the best.

Tragen looked back at her with another of those smiles, bright and warm and devastatingly beautiful, and Marii got the sense he heard it anyway. Strangely, she was okay with that.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Aramarii.”

That drew out a smile of her own, not quite as bright, but soft and sweet in a way she rarely let herself be. She was too distracted by her own thoughts to notice how captivated he was by it, and the dark hid the faint blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

She leaned closer until their shoulders touched, heedless and unaware. “If anything, I should be thanking you. You may not have shown me a new path, but… well, it’s nice to know I’m not the only one walking this one.”

He shifted, pressing their shoulders together more firmly. “Whatever happens, after this mission is complete, know that you have a friend in me. And I suspect in Jaesa and Vette, as well, though I can’t speak for them.”

“Same goes for me. And Kira.” She wouldn’t answer for Doc or Scourge, but she at least knew her former padawan’s feelings on the matter. ‘I hate that I like them so much’ had been her exact words. “You ever need anything, call and I’m there. Anytime.”

---

“So,” Vette propped her elbows on the edge of the crate they were using as a table, leaning her chin on her hands so she could better see the cargo loader and the Jedi and Sith on top of it, “how long d’you think it’ll take them to realize they’re still holding hands?”

Kira snorted a laugh, glancing up to follow Vette’s gaze for a moment before turning back to the camp stove. “If they haven’t noticed by now, my money’s on ‘sudden realization three years from now just before falling asleep.’”

Jaesa responded with a chuckle and a shake of her head. “Oh, leave them alone, you two. Let them have a little privacy. They’ve earned it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kira drawled, completely genuine despite the sarcasm in her voice. “I guess if we’re gonna fraternize with the ‘enemy,’ I’m glad it’s him. And you. We could’ve done a whole lot worse.”

“Aww, shucks.” Vette leaned against Kira’s shoulder, batting her eyes dramatically. “Are we gonna hold hands now, too?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” She exchanged a conspiratorial look with the twi'lek. “So which of us gets to go tell them dinner’s ready?”

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ SORRY FOR THE WAIT

tw. yandere, blood/violence implied domestic violence, dubcon, amnesia, obsession, character death, pseudo-cest, overprotective Levi, praise kink, slight authority kink, creampie, marking, non-linear timeline

wordcount. 6.2k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by @amonsterinspring ♡ thank you A MILLION for commissioning mE !! I’ve never written Levi so I was a tiny bit apprehensive but I actually very much enjoyed him and I’m glad you wanted no regrets Levi because he’s so inch resting to meeeee !! So happy to be writing gross shit again <33 i hope you enjoy it !!! And Ofc so many big thanks to rhi and mel for beta-ing <33

levi ackerman x fem!reader

Headquarters’ up in too much outrage for it to be five in the morning, but evidently, things rarely are as they should be here. He barely manages to tie his shirt closed before Hange and Moblit show up behind him, walking down the stairs with a pace slightly too vigorous for an early morning. Damn long legs. Levi’s impatience boils over when neither says anything, or anything of use in four-eyes’ case, and he makes his way toward the courtyard with a tight grunt. “Yer awfully tight-lipped considering.”

Hange nods. “I’m not sure what to say, is all. I could explain…” Her normally talkative hands are set on her hips as she pauses, and once again Levi feels his irritation spiking.

“But? Get to the point, Hange.”

She’s got a look on her face that gives absolutely nothing away.

“It’ll be easier for you to see for yourself, squad commander.” Moblit dutifully finishes, pointing the way through the dusty open area to the long hall. It’s mostly higher ups that walk around the place, some ducking their gaze to avoid his. His glare is instinctive. The lack of swords at his hips leaves his hands settling slightly uncomfortably at his belt instead as he walks, following behind the longer steps of his companions until they finally land at the door.

Expecting, Hange turns to look at him. “Questioning hasn’t lead far, you see. But don’t worry, we handled the situation gently! We all just figured- it might make things easier to bring you here instead of trying to force a break though when… well- you know.”

His eyebrows pull together without any further effort, and his already thin patience this early in the day glides onto it’s last legs. “What the hell are you talking about?” Rambling nonsense as always. He finds his hands moving before he’s able to call upon his patience.

He pushes the door open to the small office, takes in the bookshelves, the desk, pristine— before his stormy gaze falls onto the broad-shouldered blond hunched over. Or more, the figure he’s squatted overhead while Levi walks in. “Erwin? What the fuck are you playing- at.”

A soft, wheezed breath catches him off guard, only spying flashes of the mud-crusted feet, bruised, knobbly knees. He takes a breath, watches Erwin move aside to reveal the scene. Levi suddenly stops halfway when his stomach rolls, and there’s a dull moment where his heart starts to beat between his ears. Loud, hammering his eardrums, it almost has him tumbling over his own feet.

The face lets out a slight smile when watery eyes trail his way- and immediately spill over into thick beads that drip down the long stretch of exposed neck. A faint voice meets his lips like he’s tasting it, and the air in the room goes electric. “L- Levi nii!”

It’s you. Bruised eye and a bit older, but there’s no mistaking that face. The crybaby, wobbly lip, those long, wet lashes. His own breath escapes him for just a moment, only to see you crawl hands and knees towards him as much as the cuffs will allow you.

Hange nods out of the corners of his eyes. “That’s all she’s been able to repeat since we found her. A face you recognise?”

His hands manage to unclench from his belt only to drop aimlessly by his thighs. His eyes can’t move from your shape, a heavy, familiar feeling settling in his chest. You’re actually here. He’s looking you in the face, that same open, accepting gaze that got him the first time.

You found him.

You are asking for him.

+

Your eyes are blurry from the cold, breaths coming out in puffs in front of your face. You’re stumbling more than walking, as your feet scrape, as they cut open on the thorns that litter the grounds along with the wet leaves— snow touching your face as it falls, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

It’s so cold, you’re so cold and your limbs feel stoned and useless, as you drag yourself on towards the sound of water. Your throat aches, so does your stomach.

You try to remember the place you came from and walk on and on, if only to get a little further away from the threat of violence by strangers. The world’s so barren. Your breaths cloud before you, blurring your vision more. Puff, puff, puff— and you stumble. By landing onto your hands and knees, you scrape both hard in the process, only barely saving yourself from connecting your face with the dirt, and the lack of sleep, of a safe place to curl up and hide away all have your bottom lip wobbling like crazy.

Almost childishly, you just wish a prince on a white horse would come to sweep you away from here. It hurts. The soles of your feet, your face, the swollen area around your eye and brow and your stomach too, going empty for about a day now. You think. Your hands have landed on snow that doesn’t stick long, but it makes it almost impossible to get up and continue. You don’t even remember where you came from, let alone where you were going.

There’s a nice, cloudy gap in your memory where anything of purpose is supposed to sit. You don’t remember your name. Matted hair sticks to your face, and your clothes no longer serve as anything other than another layer to keep the cold, and wet slicked nicely to your body until you freeze to death. The river sounds close, but also still so far away. 

Snow falls, and you cast your eyes up through the trees, frozen lashes, cold lips. “Help me,” you croak out, to no one. To yourself. It doesn’t make sense why you push on,  but your body moves robotically up from the floor as if controlled by strings, only to stumble over your own feet every few steps. You might not remember anything else, but for some reason— against all logic, you do remember one thing. A name.

It’s the tiny, flickering flame that pushes you on and on as your vision blurs, as energy seeps out of you with each step, with each breath straining against the weight of your own ribs. A flame that becomes more and more faint as you reach pebbles, a slight opening in the trees where snow does stick.

You’re tired, and you want to go home. You want to curl up into a ball and die. Your eyelids flutter shut as you fall still, trying everything to keep upright.

A rhythmic sound approaching. Horses. “Help me,” you squeak. You think you do, if your voice even makes it out of you.

Some noise comes closer, but before you can see it through, your body gives out and you land onto the snowy ground with a thump— knocking you out cold.

+

“She’s obviously not dangerous, Erwin,” Levi presses fingers to his temple. The crowded room is doing absolutely nothing to relieve the migraine that’s been steadily building since this morning. The meeting room’s filled with people buzzing around like a bunch of insects.

Erwin stands from his desk. “As soon as we’re finished, I can have Miche escort her to a nice room-”

“No. I don’t want anyone else,” Levi bites out, “bringing her anywhere without me around.” His head aches, teeth gritting. His bitching and moaning won’t sway the commander, but still. Miche’s still perched against the windowsill, heavy eyes scanning him. 

It’s been years— the guilt of that fact sits heavy on his lungs.

Despite the order otherwise, he marches past and out the door. “I’m taking her to my room. Discussion, over.”

“Captain Levi!” Nifa calls after him, but a sturdy arm stops her in her path with only a tired sigh. The tall form squares his shoulders as Hange takes a seat in one of the chairs across him. He looks tenser than normal.

“And?”

Her glasses are pushed higher on her nose. “She’s no titan, if that’s what you’re worried about. My best guess is amnesia of some kind. I couldn’t say how she got it, though.” After a few seconds, she glances at Moblit. “Say, it isn’t just me, right? Her and Levi totally had something going on, right?”

+

“Sit down. Right there.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

His hand sits low on your back as he guides you into the slightly damp room. Small windows are fogged up high on the wall. Your arms are wrapped uncomfortably around yourself along with the dry jacket over your wet shoulders, and you trepidatiously walk into the tiled room, barefoot. Levi sighs behind you, voice clearing. “Go on.” It feels like it’s a familiar sound, and you follow the order. It’s been a few weeks, but you have still yet to connect the name to the face.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t exactly the short, head-strong noiret before you. Or rather, you hoped it would’ve sparked something.

You sit at the edge of the baths with a pout and the steam of the filled tub sticks to your lashes. You only manage to strip yourself of Levi’s jacket with his prompting. His hands aren’t soft, but the motion is gentle when sliding the fabric off of you, watching your clammy form unfold as he strips you of the drenched shirt, starts helping you out of the pants. You whisper a slight ‘thank you’ under your breath, because any more right now would take more energy than you have left to expel.

He looks up from where he’s kneeled beside you almost too close, thin brows furrowing as he looks up. “I told you, you’re not supposed to leave unless I’m right on your heel. In any situation. Not only that, but you just about chose the worst weather to make your little break, too.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.’ It makes him frown, nose scrunching, when he has to pull hard to get the pants over your ankles and scratches up feet, dirty and ice cold.

“You’ll be sick by tomorrow.” He’s probably not wrong. The ashy grey eyes flick up at you with -what you guess must be concern- as they shimmer almost brilliantly. It looks a bit strange on his hard, angular face.

You wouldn’t know if it is out of place. He looks cold on the outside. Harsh features, calloused hands, scars wherever you look. You don’t remember what brought you here, or what type of relationship you had. Levi’s care for you so far tells you you two were close, and they’ve told you that you kept saying him name over and over again. You feel like you should trust him. It sucks that you can’t. For some reason, something takes on your breath when you sit still too long.

“I got scared,” you slowly admit, picking at your nails. Like you had to run, run far away. The room they gave you a suffocatingly tight hug.

That’s how you ended up stumbling out of the courtyard towards the woods.

If he’s surprised by your confession, it doesn’t show on his face. He only continues to drop the wet clothes in a pile, then nods his face at the water. “Get in.” His hand takes yours to help you inside the bath, before slowly lacing his fingers with yours. It’s not so much the nakedness you have a problem with, as the lack of his own. Not the quiet you hate, as much as the fact that anyone could come into the communal bathroom when they want. But you don’t want to disappoint Levi by disobeying him twice in a night, so you sit.

Watch him chew on his words for a long time, before speaking. “Are you starting to remember anything yet?”

You suck your lips. “Not really. Not yet.” You remember flashes of Levi’s sharp eyes. Of friends, maybe family? A blond head of hair, a redhead. Sitting in the dark, sleeplessness taking you over. You remember your achy wrists, and you feel it even now, without the cuffs they slapped on you at first. You’re told Levi asked them away— and you’re thankful for that.

”Captain…”

Levi’s other hand wraps around your intertwined ones, and he closes his eyes. “I can’t believe any of this shit. You got taken away from me before— And now, all this…” His expression turns darker as he stares past you, almost as if looking at someone else. “They must’ve really done a number on you, if you don’t remember.” Frost washes over those steely eyes, and his mouth pulls into a thin line. “You promised to stay by my side. I know you never would’ve wanted to break your promise.”

But then he puts his hand on the back of your neck.

The hot steam travels up around you, as he sits beside the tub close enough he could wrap you up in a hug, looking at you like you’re an abandoned toy in need of fixing up. You blink wet lashes at him until he leans in, slots his warm mouth against yours, and his hair tickles your face. His lashes brush your cheeks, and his free hand comes to pet your cheek every so softly. “I’m here now,” his voice is low but as soft as you’ve ever heard him, as he rests his forehead against yours. “I won’t let you put yourself in danger again, okay?”

Your body’s still wound tight from earlier, but it’s only natural that you mellow out in the warmth. “Even if you never get your memories back, I’ll be here for you.” Against the cold of the coming winter, the way he brushes your hair feels so nice. It allows you to let Levi run his lips along your cheek to your jaw, short, puffed breaths against your skin as he pulls you close.

His plush lips linger over your heartbeat, and you swallow against the prey-like urge to scamper out of reach, to instead wrap your arms back around him. Droplets bleed into his shirt, but he doesn’t care one bit. His eyes flutter open and closed a few times as he pulls you into him more, leaning over the edge of the tub to kiss needy kisses all along your neck, to where your shoulder meets your throat.

You instinctively let out a gasp when he bites down, before laving the spot with his lips and tongue. “D’you like this? Does that feel good, baby?” His voice is almost soft, when those dark, blown out irises find you, and you’re letting out tense breaths against him. “Feel good?”

“Mhm.” It’s not hard to figure out what you two were before you got back here. His hand slips down your spine into the water to lift you up against him, pushing his hot lips against you again and again. You taste his tongue, taste his spit when you run your hands through his hair and pull slightly. Not too long ago, this must’ve tasted like love.

You pull back to bite your lip, feel a guilt come over you as you watch him. So hungry for you, it clearly bothers him to be even a few inches away from you. 

“I’m sorry for not remembering,” you whisper. Your voice wants to fail you, but you refuse to let tears take over. That wouldn’t be fair to him. A brief pause, then you swallow, eyes fixing on him with a genuine curiosity. “Do you remember everything, Captain Levi?” 

+

The dark itches his skin, takes on his breath. There’s a stench of ammonia, thick, pungent, it almost knocks him over. But that doesn’t matter much when his eyes slide over the dusty, trash-filled room for what he’s looking for. He kicks the bloodied face to the side, pulling his knife out from the pierced temple to wipe it on a handkerchief and pull up his nose. “Fuckin’ pig sty.”

It’s Jan who bothers to search through the dresser, pocketing a few stacks of money. “That’s about 300, Levi.” Not enough. He somehow doubts that anything they find will be enough to pay back the debt. One of the other men closes in on the safe, kneeling before it. Levi’s tight frown only digs deeper.

It wouldn’t take too much to break that open, so with the two of them, they start sliding it out of the spot under the makeshift register. “The rest’s probably in here.”

“Yeah.” He brushes his hair out of his face, ready to leave the brothel behind. It’s only an afterthought to slide open the door of the liquor pantry; kicking through the lock with impatience set on his face. The old wood gives way with a sad creak, and Levi pushes inside. There’s nothing of value, figures.

Only a small cage shoved in the corner, and his hands drop to his side.

“Levi?” Someone calls at his back.

A ghostly figure sits unmoving, crumpled into itself, metal dog collar around the neck— big, desperate eyes avoiding the light streaming into the indentation. Big, obvious blotches litter your skin top to bottom, lips swollen and cracked, your skin almost mannequin-like by the unwashed sheen. His stomach turns at the sight… but more than disgust, he’s taken aback by something else.

His breath stops in his throat for a few beats, as he stares at the pathetic rise and fall of your chest in that skimpy little outfit, pure white lace against the darkness. The pity of your situation is by far outweighed by the beauty of you, and the way his heart pounds in his chest.

He should feel worse. He should probably hate the feeling. The way you stare up at him like a kicked puppy. His mouth cracks open a sliver, slow breath in, slower breath out. If you had a tail, it would wag at the sight of him.

The way you’re looking up at your saviour makes him feel important.

+

The door thumps before bouncing back into the lock, and a breeze tingles your neck as you snuggle deeper into the blankets. It’s not much, but it’s more than you’ve gotten used to with your last owner. It’s more than enough to sleep comfortably, only hindered by the heavy metal chain that sits around your ankle. You’re not sure why he believes you’d go anywhere. A heavy body drops into the mattress meant for one. For a brief moment, your shoulders rise up to protect your face, spine tensing.

A brief moment that melts away in an instant when you’re confronted by ocean blue eyes in the dark, a soft smile sitting on his cheeks. “Sleepy?” the young man asks, not expecting much of a response before landing his palm on your head in a comforting sort of motion. It’s a drag more than a pat, and his thumb brushes almost patiently over your forehead from between your brows to your crown. A warmth you’ve never really experienced before. If you were sleepy, you no longer are.

Farlan’s a comforting presence that’s only gotten more important with each passing day. The windows to your room are usually leaned open, enough to stick a few fingers through, not your whole hand. It’s enough during the day to catch his eyes peeking up at you from the courtyard, and smiling back when you wave. A sad, guilty sort of smile.

Farlan smells like wood and musk and soap, and to you, it’s the closest you can get to being out there with them with the chain on your ankle.

You swallow, bite your lip. “Levi nii doesn’t like me, does he?”

His blond hair bounces as he rolls onto his side in the silence, and watches you with a strange sort of calculation in his eyes. His hand falls still on your crown, but you lean into the touch before he pulls back. The heat is just so nice. It builds in your cheeks, makes your eyes feel a little hazy, your face softer. Farlan chews on his tongue before speaking. “Why do you think that?”

It’s not so hard to tell. Everyone else is allowed outside. There’s people who come around every day, they carry boxes, work in the street, talk to each other whenever they want. It’s only you that’s kept inside this room— staring at them through the windows; and more than that, Levi always locks the door when they come around. You don’t blame him. You’re sure that if you were better, he wouldn’t have to. You can’t blame the person who saved your life for dealing with you in the way he knows how.

Instead of explaining all that you simply shake your foot, and the loud changing of the metal links fill the room.

Farlan’s eyebrows narrow, and not for the first time, a look of helplessness swipes over his features. “I’m pretty sure Levi aniiki… doesn’t dislike you. He doesn’t even let me in here, normally.”

He pulls the blankets back a bit, uncovering your shoulders from the plush, trails his eyes over the skin in the dark. A fingertip presses into a spot under your jaw that’s achy and bruised that’s only stopped hurting so bad this morning. Then he slides the touch down to the crook of your neck, taps onto another mark. “That Levi aniiki’s doing?”

They’re littered all over.

You don’t have to nod. His expression dims. “Do you even know what’s happening to you here? You don’t, do you.” The words come faster, lingering in the stuffy room. His face shifts, from knowledge, to worry. “Do you even like Levi like that?” Your face goes pouty, and you feel yourself wanting to tilt your head. Confused. A wordless question. Like what, your brain supplies, but maybe because you feel a bit stupid, you don’t speak it.

Maybe because of the closeness and the heat in your face and the warmth of his touch, his care, his attention— you can’t do anything but suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Farlan’s face is closer than it was, you’ve pushed yourself closer. The darkness of night no longer feels so dark when he’s here with you and your heart’s beating fast, really fast. It’s slamming rhythmically in the silence. He pulls his hand away as he smiles, but you reach out to grab it. “Do you like him?” He asks again.

Do you like Levi nii? Of course you do. If not for him you might’ve been left behind forever, stashed behind the walls like a dirty secret. It’s a given that you like him. You like that he sits with you and tells you you’re pretty and when he comes home for the night he lets you snuggle up on his chest and feel every bit of touch that you were missing during the day. When he’s nice he’s really nice, though he doesn’t like to say it in words. You’re similar in that way.

When he’s happy with you, you get spoiled. You like Levi. Farlan’s finger brushes over the tip of your nose when you bring it close to your face, soft, searching touch. It isn’t the same as Levi’s closeness though. When Farlan’s close, you feel entirely floaty, drifting on the breeze of the breaths you two share. Levi’s kind of like is grounded. The blond’s staring like he’s seeing every cell of you at once, and you find yourself saying something before you can think about it fully. “I like you.”

He smiles genuinely at that, taken aback. You two share the space in the bed that’s yours alone. You take up the space nudged into the crook of his neck, feel the breaths dust over your crown. You’re sure when your throat runs dry, and your lashes flutter against his skin.

After a few minutes of quiet, Farlan finally seems to breathe a full breath again. “Tell me. Do you want me to take you out of here?”

Your eyes flutter. A tense, slight frown comes to sit between your brows, and your lips jut into a pout.

+

“Here, be a good girl.” Your big eyes shift from the door back to him, when he kneads his hands that are settled on your tits, rubbing your pebbled nipples until you shift. A little from the touch, a little from your discomfort as you’re gyrating onto his body. You try to nod, he thinks, because your interrupted by a shiver when his mouth takes one of them inside to suck, and have you whimpering above him. Cute. Moldable.

Your hands move to his head to practically curl yourself around his head and trail your hands through his hair like you’re a kneading cat, and your motion shoves his face between your tits even more. It’s so fucking cute, perfect, as you squirm like you’re not sure what to do with yourself. He’s pretty sure that’s actually quite accurate. As you’re moaning and squeaking though, and he shifts to the other nipple to rub his tongue over it, you let out a soft whine. “Levi nii- it’s… I-embarrassing.”

He grunts into your embrace, one hand slipping around to get under your ass and reposition you onto him better, so that the heat of your pussy grinds against him through the thin scraps of fabric you’re dressed in. “It’s not embarrassing. You’re doing good.” His cock’s rock hard against you. Shouldn’t that be enough to tell you that? If you had any experience with any of this, it would.

“It is!” You pant, and your hips stop moving around like you’re halfway to crawling away, to unclamp yourself from his head, to lean back onto both arms and watch him through teary, drowsy eyes. “I keep making noises even though I don’t mean to, and everything feels weird- and- and I’m sticky, aniiki.” A brilliant blush sits on your face, from your nose to your ears, and it’s as hot as it is adorable, the way you’re writhing around a bit like an animal in heat. He doesn’t need to ask if it feels good, because it’s written on your face. 

He goes back to playing with your tits a bit longer, because you’re so soft and warm and wrapped in his blankets, he just wants to eat you up. You sometimes ask him why he keeps you around. A ridiculous notion, as if he would even have the thought of not keeping you. You’re his woman. His, and his alone - it’s not up for debate. You just don’t know it yet, because of your lack of experience. Rough hands pinch at your nipples until you’re shoving at his shoulders and squirming away, underwear sticking to your wet pussy.

Your kicked-dog sort of expression is replaced with furrowed brows when you pant the next thing, glancing back at the door with a pout. “Aniiki~~ it’s embarrassing! Farlan nii’s gonna know.” His jaw clenches, and within a single blink he has you turned around. Pressed back into his bed under his pinning weight, his thin eyebrows furrowing despite himself. Your eyes go wide, suddenly apologetic.

He doesn’t hear you out. “It’s not. If I tell you it’s okay, then it’s okay.” The heat between your two bodies streams down, as he yanks one leg over his thigh to get in between your legs and starts drawing his long fingers along the edge of the seat of your panties. Soaked through, sticky. He brings his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean, and taste the pure, unchanged taste of you. “Stop bringing other people up. I’ve already told you that when we’re in here, you should only think about me. When you’re in my bed-”

“Levi nii is the boss. I know, I’m sorry.” You rap out quicker than he can continue, apologetically smoothing your hands over his chest. “I just… My body always feels weird when we do this.”

He holds the urge to let his face break out into a bit of a grin. How fucking cute can you be… instead he starts peeling off your panties and watch how you obediently move your legs together and up to make it easy, runs his hands up, up, up along your thighs, calves, over your feet. He licks his lips at the sight of you, can’t help it. You let him rock his hips against you, placing his hands both sides of your face, and lean in. “Give me a kiss, come on. If you give me a kiss, I won’t chain you up tomorrow.”

You used to be unable to. Too shy, too cautious, the marks left on you had taken a toll. But look at you now. Almost as if by instinct, you dutifully press your lips to his awaiting mouth, let him lean into your space and take you. It took some time, and you used to cry - but doesn’t this feel so good now. Aren’t you happy he treats you so well? You kiss him slow and deep, letting him open your lips and slip his tongue into your mouth, while his hands rub over your wet pussy.

You’re whining into it though at his touch, mumbling like a pathetic, little thing. “‘M sore, Levi nii~” You must be. Your pussy still slicks though, welcoming him, letting his fingers rub the overstimulated bud again. He wasn’t so nice this morning, or last night.

Your thick lashes flutter when you pull back with a pout, and watch him toy with your body.  

“You’re glaring like you don’t want this.” He comments. You shake your head half-heartedly. In truth, it used to be like that. You used to kick and scream before you toned down. But you got there eventually, and now - you’re soft enough to let him do however he likes. You trust him enough to fill you up to the brim and let him spill hot cum inside you, without crying. You still move your body half into, half away from his touch— like you can’t decide if you want him to keep going, so he makes the choice for you. “Open up.”

You shiver under him but move your legs open further, as his fingers trail into the wetness to your clit. “So good, baby.” Soft circles make you scrunch your face up, and harder circles make your back lift from the mattress into a perfect arch that makes his cock twitch in his boxers. Boxers that get pushed down to reveal his weeping, flushed head, and pushing it along your lips with a hiss. “You know what I like to hear, come on. Say it.”

You flush, heat blooming on your cheeks again. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you look away in mock-decency. Drives him crazy. Makes him want to ruin you. “Th- thank you for r-rescuing me. I love… -I love when you play with me like this.”

”Yeah?” He lines his cock up with your slick lips and pushes inside, ignoring the resistance as he dives into your heat. “I know you do. I know you like doing- t-this. You’re a good, little pet for me. We’re close, aren’t we. There’s no one closer to you than I am.” He bottoms out into that perfect warmth only to pull back, wet, glistening, and dive back into you. Your eyes bulge a little, and your hands find his shoulders as your head falls back.

”Ah, ah- Aniiki. I- I’m still sore. It hurts.” You yelp softly when his body connects to yours, and your tits bounce because of the impact.

“Shhh, shh, I’ll make it feel good. Just a little more.” His rhythm moving the bed along with you, as you clamp your eyes shut and wrap your arms around him to hang on. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, of course. But you just feel so good. So inviting, diving into that clenching, warm embrace as his cock slides in and out of you, and slick gushes out along it. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. So good for Levi nii, aren’t you? You’re a good little hole for me.”

“Agh, Levi nii. Aniiki!” His declarations of love fall on deaf ears, because you���re hanging on like you’re on a cliff, whining and the pressure building inside you. Even after hundreds of times, you still look so woefully underprepared whenever he rubs just right against your pussy. Coarse hair and friction all make you look like you can explode any second now, and he thrives when looking at it. Could you not look so fucking pathetic all the time? It’s not his fault that you look so fucking hot like this, squirming on his cock, moaning, begging. “I’m full— I’m so full. Agh, Levi!”

He lets you have more, take more of his cock, harder, deeper. Your poor pussy squelches every time he bottoms out, and your body moves around on the mattress just enough to rub yourself against the thumb he’s pressing to your clit. “You’re so pretty like this, so fucking— good. Tell me you want it.” 

Your back lifting from the bed, he can tell when your stomach starts clenching, and your legs wrap tighter around him. “Yes, yes, yes! Wan’it- agh, ah, ah! Levi.” His balls hit your ass every time he goes in and you feel so good, so soft— hotter than anyone should be.

“Tell me you love me. You don’t want anyone else.” You’re whining like you’re mindless, and pull him, scratch along his shoulder blades with a desperation for purchase. You can’t say it in words, but he knows it means ‘keep going, I’m close, I’m so close’. He knows it means ‘I love you.’ That’s why he pushes his mouth to yours again, that’s why he rocks his cock right into that spot that makes you go a bit cross eyed.

He’s doing this all for you. You mewl and suck his tongue and push your tits against him, let him fucking into you so deep you feel conjoined, and then even past that. It’s the heat and the pressure and the touch of you on him that’s making him grunt, his balls pull to his body. He fucks into you until he can’t possibly keep the rhythm anymore, and his shoulders pulls up into a squared position above you.

He pants, sweat rolling down his chest from the effort and the warmth. “You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.” Kissing you doesn’t possibly feel deep enough, but god, you feel good. Heavenly. He’ll stay here with you if that’s what it takes. Nothing’s going to change that. “You’re not going anywhere. Ever.” His cock settles so deep inside you he can see it on your face, twisting between pain and pleasure, and you fall into your orgasm with a rough, desperate cry. Your walls constrict around him, and it’s enough to make him reach his high too.

Sliding in and out, in and out, as hot cum shoots into you and he presses his forehead to yours. “Fuck, fuck- I need you here.”

+

It’s too dark to make out much of anything, except the frantic energy in the whispers.

“Hurry, come on.”

Your cuffs jingle loud into the night, dragging your chain behind you. It wasn’t possible on your own, but another set of hands got it undone relatively easily, and now, it’s just the sound of your breaths into the night as you look behind you. The house gets smaller before it disappears from your view, and you pant out breaths into the cold night. “Farlan,“ you breathe out, not stopping, “what’s happening?” 

Your arm is held steadily in his soft fingers, at a pace as quick as your weakened body will allow. He doesn’t speak until you’ve made it far, far beyond the line of houses that you could see from your window. More than you can remember seeing, ever. “Don’t worry, everything’s okay.”

The night is dark, but when you two finally stop moving, the path forward is even darker. A deep hole in the walls that seems to go up into infinity. You pull your arm away, and look at him, stomach turning. “Farlan…”

There’s no one around, lights are dimmed, and the whole place seems abandoned. All that’s left to notice is the air blowing past your neck, a draft that ruffles your hair. Farlan’s eyes are full of compassion. “I want to do the right thing.” For some reason, wetness wells up in your eyes as you watch him take you in wholly, and gently pull you into a hug. “If we go up here, we’ll get to the surface.”

He pushes a kiss to your temple, smiles bright like he always does. “You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.” The breeze carries the fresh air into your lungs, and your toes are cold.

Farlan’s breaths go quiet as Hell unfolds itself. Instinctively, his hand is still wrapped around the gurgling wound pulsing blood, but his limbs have gone numb. And Levi’s blind anger has him wailing punch after punch, panting heavily before pulling the knife out. His hands drip blood, as the sun rises at the end of the staircase. It’s barely a white dot in an inky canvas, but the doubt does seep in. You wouldn’t have left him. You wouldn’t, you couldn’t.

He loves you, and you him. His only light in this fucking place. You’d never go on your own. You’ll be waiting for him to get you back.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[aikuposer]

do you have any more aiku sex thoughts 😋🤭🤭

WOOOW FIRST ASK thank u so much andd. Many.

i think i’m like a really big fan of silly romantic aiku so. soft like domestic sex is just sosooo mmngnhfghjh to me… thinking about your boyfriend coming home tired from practice or a game that he won so he’s at ease but tired, you’re greeting him at the door with a kiss and taking his jacket and bag off of him. he’s pretty idk smelly and wants to take a bath, but you don’t wanna let him go that early :( he assures you, “i’ll lie down with you right after baby, i promise!” but you wanna cling onto him for just a little longer…

you eventually convince him to let you wash him with a little (a lot) of nagging (he doesn’t wanna bother you with this, but you would do anything for him, as long as you’re near him), so you fill the bath with water and allow him to settle in, stripping his clothes off of him. you planned on just washing him from the side, shampooing and conditioning his stinky indigo hair, but then he asks you to join him! you’re a little reluctant, because no way is a situation where you and aiku are naked and together gonna end with you walking straight for the next week, but you comply as the water splashes on the walls of the tub and onto the tiled floor. you sit on his muscular thighs, massaging his scalp as his eyes slowly close and his head rolls back, sighing deeply. when he adjusts his position by shifting his ass though, the serenity of the situation seems to feel… hotter. you grunt, but continue to scrub his head, praying he hadn’t heard you.

who were you kidding, this is oliver aiku you’re talking about.

his expression remaining unchanged, but you could tell the air was already different, he continues fo slowly move his leg, making it harder for you to contain yourself. soft whimpers start escaping, and he peeks one eye open as he smiles teasingly at you. his sexy face being too much to handle in the situation, you drop your head to his shoulder, hiding your warm face in his neck. “what’s wrong, princess?” he breathes out, his big hand rubbing along your back as he molds it into an arch. “aiku… you know what you’re doing…” you chastise, but of course he plays oblivious! “oh, ‘m not sure about that… why don’t you tell me?” he ends his sentence with a little lift of his leg as he guides your hips backwards, causing you to moan out loud— exactly what he’s been waiting for. even when you’re trying to take care of him, he manages to be a little freak, always finding ways to dominate you. “shit, this is why i never do n-nice thin—ngh..s… f’r you…” you trailed off, giving up on washing him as your only focus was chasing your own high by riding his thigh. he chuckled, “that’s it baby, grind on me,” before bringing your head up by your jaw to kiss your lips deeply. you moaned into the kiss, yet he swallowed all of your delicious sounds up.

when you began whining, increasing in pitch, and moving yourself on his leg with more haste, he could tell you were almost there. “you close? huh?” he panted out, “come on, give it to me, ma.” you released himself on him with a yelp of his name, and he kisses you, whispering “i’m here, ‘m here, baby.” you both sit for a moment, catching your breaths. aiku’s massaging your ass as you run your hands along his sweaty neck, getting all stinky again from the sexing you two just diiid..! he kisses you deeply once more with a goofy smile on his face, “i love you so much.” giggling at his expression, you hold his face when he leans into your touch, whispering an “i love you too, aiku.

Yeoowzers don’t ever let me put dialogue in again hope rhis was Ok😓 whagever bye Forever

[notwhelmedyet]

A Fire Shall Be Woken, by Ealcynn. A pair of bindings using the K118 structure, one as a gift for the author and one to keep.

Chapter page illustrations are by Alphonse Mucha, all other illustrations are hand-drawn.

I hope to make a long post later explaining the process in more depth & another to document all my mistakes, but here's the basics.

New techniques learned: Paper marbling, edge marbling, uncial calligraphy, making paste papers, drawing on bookcloth, making paste-filled cloth, fold-out maps

I began work on this project in early September and am completing the finishing touches this week.

Structures:

Binding: K118 tightback

Endpapers: Simple cloth-joined endpapers

Map fold: Turkish map fold

Materials:

Sewing supports: linen tapes

Thread: 30/3 linen thread

Spine lining: Medium weight kozo tissue bonded to linen fabric

Interior paper: Hammermill Ivory, 11x17, hand-cut to 8.5x11

Endpapers: Blick sulphite paper hand-marbled, with masked stenciled silhouettes created with freezer paper

Adhesives: Jade PVA, wheat starch paste, wheat flour paste

Covers: Davey board, laminated full thickness to half thickness

Cover fabric: Studio E shot cottons in Jungle and Emerald; filled with wheat starch paste

Cover decorations: Speedball india ink and Dr. Ph. Martin's calligraphy ink in Copperplate Gold

Inks for maps and illustrations: Speedball black india ink and a selection of watercolors thickened with gum arabic

Dip pens used for calligraphy: Combination of Brause calligraphy nibs and Leonardt tape nibs

Dip pens used for illustration: Nikko G pointed pen nib

Typesetting:

Typesetting program: Scribus 1.5.5

Body font: Coelacanth in 10 pt caption weight

Headings, titles, chapter titles, drop caps: Hand lettered uncial calligraphy, scanned

Illustrations and References:

Frames on colophon, copyright, author's notes and title page: Hand drawn, with inspiration taken from the vellucent bindings of Cedric Chivers

Frames that illustrate each chapter start: Alphonse Mucha from Cloches de Noël et de Pâques

Cover illustrations: Referenced from a photograph of an European beech tree found on iNaturalist.org

Maps of Imladris: Hand drafted with inspiration from the maps of Barbara Strachey, and Daniel Reeve

Map of Eriador: Traced from a map by Karen Wynn Fonstad, with edits made to coordinate with the geography of the fic

Frames on maps: Referenced from a drawing by Alphonse Mucha that @zhalfirin found for me

Special Thank Yous:

To the tightback council of problem-solvers in the Renegade server: Zhalfirin, Eka, @spockandawe who helped figure out many issues with the structure and technique

To the marbling experts in the Renegade server: Marissa, Aether, AGlance, Jenny, Catz, Badgertide, Rhi, and everyone else who helped me figure out beginnner marbling

To Spock for finding the K118 structure and introducing it to the server!

And to Bruce Levy, who discovered the method and shared his discoveries freely with the bookbinding and conservation world.

[ode2cheol]

౨ৎ mansae

requested by @seuonji OMG NAII again congrats on 1k! idk if you’re still taking reqs but if you are i wanna request joshua+mansae by svt! i love YOU and your writings sm have a great day<3

AYAAAAAA THANK U SO MUCH BAE RHIS REQ WAS SO CUTE 😢 mansae is literally one of my favourite tt’s ever it’s so <33 i love u so so much and ur writings too like i read the jeonghan x daycare worker reader as a weekly routine atp hfhfhf

joshua x f!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, 0.7k words, part of 1k event

“shua” you said happily, taking the seat in the library next to him. when you sat you noticed the work and textbooks splayed out in front of him “what’re we working on here?”

“yn hey!” joshua said with a smile, already clearing space for you to join him more comfortably. “i was just finishing off that assignment we had for chem, it’s so tiring i’m starting to lose my mind i think” he laughed easily.

you looked at his work for a second and nodded at his words, you were still only halfway through yours. “i get you, i tried working on some of it last night and contemplated dropping out at least five times”

joshua smiled when you laughed, taking notice of the pretty ways your eyes crinkled in joy causing a warmth to creep up on his face.

for the next thirty minutes a steady atmosphere settled over the both of you, both focused on your work and occasionally asking the other for help.

joshua wouldn’t like to admit it but he looked over at you enough times to make it embarrassing and plain desperate.

“did you hear about that movie playing this weekend? apparently it’s super scary some people even passed out” you said with excitement lacing your tone.

truth be told, joshua couldn’t handle scary movies well. sure when he went to a haunted house or an escape room he could handle it but the movies were different. the way they make it just makes it overly eerie!

that would not hold him back if you asked him to go with you though.

“really? you .. go?” idiot, what the hell was that?

and joshua swears all the colour must’ve drowned from his face when you furrowed your brows in confusion, “huh?” you laughed off a little awkwardly.

joshua cleared his throat, “sorry, meant are you going to see the movie this weekend?”

he sighed in relief when you smiled at him, “i was hoping to, yeah. but i don’t really have anyone to go with..”

‘this is your chance. literally this is your chance. this is a free pass’

“we could go together..” joshua proposed, voice quiet and eyes searching yours for any signs.

“we as in- me, you and uh, jeonghan!” and joshua swears he can hear jeonghan in the distant telling seokmin that joshua’s an idiot. and jeonghan would not be lying at all.

“oh, uh yeah i guess that’d be great” you said, disappointment colouring your face.

‘why was this so hard?’ joshua thought as he looked at you. you’d already turned back to your work and bit back a pout wanting to settle on your lips. ‘why’s this so hard to get out? can’t someone else just do it for hi-’

“joshua, do i make you uncomfortable?” you shot up and asked him suddenly. “or like, do you just not like me like how you like the others? because you’re usually so.. honest with everyone else but with me it feels like you’re beating around the bush with your words sometimes”

“it’s not like it’s something i dislike!” you quickly reassured him when you saw how he looked like a kicked puppy, “it’s just, well it’s what i’ve noticed. and it only made me think i’m just maybe not as good a friend and maybe i’m just overthinking-”

“it seems different because i don’t want to be your friend” joshua cut off your rambling, “because i want to be your boyfriend”

“you what?” you looked at him a little out of breath and in disbelief that he just admitted that.

“i want to be your boyfriend, and obviously i’d talk differently to my friends than to someone i want to date” joshua moved his hand to hold your own, gently stroking the skin experimentally to leave space if you wanted an out but you didn’t and only grasped his hand tighter. “and i’d obviously be nicer to my girlfriend than my friend. no offence but you’d definitely get special privileges over jihoon”

you laughed lightly at his words, lips settling to a slightly teasing smile. “getting a little ahead of yourself, huh? i don’t remember you asking me to be your girlfriend, loverboy”

“not yet,” joshua smiled, “but i’ll ask you after i kiss you on our date this weekend, deal?”

[changisworld]

Okay. Hear me out. Shower with skz🥹

-🦇

BBCBCDNANANABABAJnn THIS IS A NEED, THANK THE HEAVENS THAT 🦇 IS REAL TO PUT RHIS IN OUR HEADS

main masterlist here

->I feel as if Seungmin, felix, hyunjin & maybe chan?? would shower with you just simply for fun, probably also half for convenience cuz saves time duh but if they get to see you naked who tf are they to pass on the opportunity???

-> wash your hair for you & especially seungmin probably begs for you to wash his hair back for him, even kneeling down if he has to just so you’re forced to do it(you were never not gonna do it for him he’s too cute to say no to)

-> I can imagine felix n also Seungmin complaining about how you alwyas have the shower on too hot for their liking…as if it’s meant to be THEIR SHOWER to begin with, you turn the knob that tiny bit higher just to watch them squeal hehehe

->DEFINITELY KISSES IN RHE SHOWEEEBEBEH they don’t miss the chance to ogle over you.. obviously… but more often than not, they don’t wanna do anything too crazy in the shower, simply because knowing them, especially hyunjin, would slip or chan would somehow drop a shampoo bottle at the worst moment n hit one of you guys in the foot just ruining the moment😭 they’d probably rather give you a reason to just get back in the shower straight after you both finish n end up in the bedroom, just to get sweaty again after their hard ons are just too much.

->ON THE ORHER HAND, LEEKNOW, HAN, JEONGIN N CHANGBIN ARE A DIFFERENT CASE.

->they know your own shower routine at this point n they always make sure to follow in not too long behind yiu(especially leeknow) & he tries to act so casual, just murmuring about how he just wants to shower but you ‘stole it’ just to end up having you pressed against the cold wall five minutes later

-> or jisung & also binnie whining at you because you aren’t instantly giving their boner any attention, because it’s ‘your fault you look this good all soapy’ & as they keep looking at you, bottom lip in a pout, they move their hips just enough to have their cock rubbing against your leg, making you fold not too long later(in more ways than one hehehe)

->INNIE IS THE WORST FOR SHOWERING ISTG!!! just teases you the entire time, sliding his fingers through your inner thighs as he helps you wash your body, purposely grazing his fingers through your folds ever-so-often, making you wince & him give you his pretty cheeky smile.

->as you turn your back to him to let him put the shampoo or conditioner in your hair, he is pushing on your upper back, urging you to bend over just a tinnyyy bit more. “cmon, it’s technically completely mess free because we will be getting rid of any cum or sweat as it comes!” he pouts, purposely leaving a pun in his sentence.

[beefscrap]

Here you go! It’s Lars and Lucian

WHAT THE HECK. MY JAW DROPPED GUYS RHIS IS THE LAST THING I EXPECTED WHEN U SAID YOU WERE DRAWING AOMEONE!! These aren’t my wof characters but they’re characters from another story im working on- and I actually have a blog for : D! @my-marbles so I’ll be reblogging there with my lil fanart tag. Thanks for the excuse to promote myself hehehe /hj

Anyways how did you make them so beautiful… the line art for Lucian is fabulous oh my god he looks like a Greek sculpture. The detail in his scar too 😮‍💨 I rllyyy love how big you made his wings I think it looks so cool - I’ve never seen him drawn with big wings so I LOVE this. And lars ofc 😭😭😭 looks like a wet ferret. I’m trying to imagine a context where this would happen and I am giggling. You totally captured Lars’ vibe and I will make sure this will happen in canon.. at some point. To honor this first piece of gift art

Seriously tysm this was such a nice surprise :’] I avoided promoting my second oc blog here since it’s not related to wings of fire at all… but if anyone’s interested I’d love for yall to check it out 💪

[justallihere]

I squealed and smiled with joy when I saw the notification of update. Alli, thank you again for bringing so many of us so much joy and happiness. This fic has become an important part of my life. And I had not expected an update today! I dropped my phone on my face when I read the “I love you” confession, I was not expecting this in this chapter! But it makes total sense that x would get it out! There is nothing to hide anymore! I am happy he got it out immediately. Loved vi’s reaction as well. Our girl just needs safety. Everything was so soft, I melted- the shampooing,the cuddles, the tears.I wonder if Vi’s confession is going to be more dramatic and intense?(not a q for you, I am just thinking out loud 🤣) I am so so excited for it.

love Sloan so so much!

Garrick isn’t getting 2 mins from his king huh..our king is busy with his number one priority!

I absolutely loved Mira, rhi and Bren here as well.

Vi showing any feelings/care towards x absolutely melts my heart. X needs love too. He is traumatized too. Loved vi seeking x out for comfort multiple times- glances, cuddles, touches. Will there be more scenes like that? An unhinged vi for x?

so excited for the next chapters. Plz never stop writing 😭

Thank you so much! This fic and all of its readers mean the world to me 🫶🏻

I felt like the “I love you” made a lot of sense here. Xaden wouldn’t want Violet to be unnecessarily hurt by him just letting her think that she doesn’t mean anything to him. Plus he wouldn’t want to feel like he was taking advantage of her in a way by her not realizing how much it meant to him to be able to hold her. Re: unhinged Violet there’s so far a tiny moment in the next chapter but I’m sure there will be more!

[restlesscrybaby]

Maybe Jack reacting to someone who really loves his body. Like the reader likes to rub his tummy and play with his hair?

THIS RHIS THIS I WAS JUST WROTING THIS THIR THIAISSSSSSS

AsceNDSS

~ JACK HORNER WITH SOMEONE WHO REALLY LOVES HIS BODY HEADCANONS. ~

~ 'Oh, your body, my love, it is so divine.' ~

☆ CONTENT WARNING : None. ☆

~~~~~~~~~~~~

At first, he didn't know what he got himself into.

But it was something he never expected.

When you two got together, he didn't expect you to fall in love so quick, let alone at all, but he wasn't complaining. Don't worry.

One night, he was getting ready to shower. He had slipped on bunny slippers, probably poor bunnies he had killed, as he wrapped a simple towel around his waist. He was naked, as his belly muffin-topped over the towel. He opened his door, as you sat upon the bed. Simply watching the candlelight flicker in a dancing flame.

Your head turned when the bathroom door opened,

Oh. My.

God.

He held the towel with a large fist, as he shook his head around, getting the strands of light purple hair out of his face. He pointed behind him, into the bathroom, as he let out a grumble, telling you he was going to get a shower.

...

But, out of his surprise, you were suddenly up and leaned up against him.

...

"... What are you doing." He muttered, as a brow raised. His head tilted, with a confused expression being able to be read all over his face.

You placed a hand on his belly, as you looked up towards him. You smiled, a sweet smile,

A genuine smile?

".. I love you belly," You cooed out, as you rubbed it gently. "I like how big you are, it's so handsome. You're so perfect." You purred out, in a string of sappy words.

...

What.

His hooked nose scrunched up, in confusion, two little lines forming towards his lips as they pursed in, his eyes widening with furrowed brows.

He rolled his eyes, as his hand placed itself on the top of your head and pushed you back away from him. A scoff escaping his lips as he walked in towards the bathroom, the click of tje door echoing the now empty room, with only you in it.

...

Strange, he found it.

Strange.

But, yousoon showered, time for bed.

He laid down, as he grabbed his facemask that resided upon his oak nightstand, his pointer and thumbs pinching the strings of the fabric and sliding it onto his face. Over his eyes, as you laid beside him...

He began to think, just plans for tomorrow..

...

But he felt something.

What the hell?

He pinched the fabric of the mask, as he angrily lifted it up away from his face. You cuddled up to his chest, your hand tracing the lines on his chest, that adorned curls of lilac hair. What the hell?

You pulled your hand away, as you began to button up the sleep shirt, as you made sure it stayed buttoned up.

But, he watched as your hand traveled to his hair, your fingers intertwining within strands of hair. You twirled a strand around your index finger, as he furrowed his brows.

Oh my god.

He let go of the sleeping mask, as it slapped down upon his face. But, you only giggled about him doing such a thing.

Another day, he sat at his desk. At the king-themed chair, as a large hand gripped onto a quill. His two lamps were clicked on, as yellow light oozed from its pores. The stain-glass shined a beautiful color upon the entire office. He leaned back, as he dropped the quill, he couldn't think of what to write. He let out a frustrated sigh, as he caught glimpse of the Excalibur beside the crossbows near his desk. He caught some kind of motivation, as he sat back up. He pinched the quill within two large digits, the ink awaiting the tip of the quill to indulge in it.

But, he felt two hands fold onto his shoulders. What the hell?

You were massaging his shoulders?

Damn, he forgot you were here...

"I like your shoulders. It really brings out your body." You poured out, in a sappy string of words, that could practically melt off into a pan.

What the fuck?

At rhis point, you were playing tricks on him. No one loved someone this much.

Well, you did.

He turned his head, as he furrowed his brows. He opened his mouth to speak, but your pupils trailed from his shoulder towards his face, dilating in size upon viewing him.

W.. Wha.

You used your hand, as you cupped the side of his cheek with your palm. Your thumb gentle rubbed beneath his eye, in a loving manner.

He watched your face soften, a smile forcing itself upon your face, one you didn't try to happen. Your eyes locked onto his.

"Did anyone tell you you've got beautiful eyes..?"

Now you had to be kidding.

This wasn't true, you were trying to get something from him,

But, you inspected his eyes, before you spied upon his nose. An even happier smile beaming onto your face, as your cheeks started to heat up.

"Your nose fits you so perfectly.."

...

Wha...

Your eyes leered onto his lips, sizing them up with a giggle of joy, almost overwhelming joy.

"Oh, your lips are so plump, I love them,"

He couldn't help but feel..

Confused love?

You weren't serious, were you?

But, your pupils caught hook onto his, which could read confusion in every way.

"What?," You questioned, as you gentlynpinched his cheek, shaking it with a gentle force like some kind of mother, "I'm your lover, I'm allowed to say those kinds of things."

...

You were serious.

...

He couldn't lie,

As he watched you walk off, going to reorganize the potions that sit neatly on his shelf,

...

He...

...

He could get used to this.

~~~~~~

'The sun and stars would stop time, just for a moment to create the perfect you.'

~~~~~~

AAAAAAAAAAA

His body <<<3<3<3<3<3<3<333

Please enjoy

I'm so sorry they're not how they should be I'm just drained so they're not written really well eep

[agentofreedom]

{You Can Road-Rage At Me Anytime - Read on AO3 }

Ch. 2: now we’re talking business

Read ch.1 on tumblr here

Unfortunately, luck was decidedly not on Violet’s side, evidenced by the ominous clunk-clunk-clunk that reverberated from Andarna’s engine when she turned her on the next morning and drove her out of the garage to better inspect her beloved. The noise had not been there the day before. Nor had the vibrating sensation under her feet when she pressed on the brake.

She parked on the side of the road outside her apartment, and popped open the bonnet, dread rising in her chest. She hadn’t actually expected to find any damage, but she had to admit - miserably - that she may have taken that turn to avoid the crash yesterday much too harshly for her aged (but well loved) car. She winced again at the memory of the screeching tyres - she had at least checked them first, and they were thankfully okay.

“Okay, girl, let’s get this over with,” she murmured, patting the shimmering bonnet before rolling up her sleeves and leaning in to get a closer look at the engine.

When Violet had spent almost her entire savings on Andarna, the car had been sitting at the dealership for a long while, having been overlooked by customers because of her custom paintjob. But Violet saw her and could hear the ghost of her dad’s voice rumbling in her head, his fondness for this car brought on by his own childhood constantly travelling through various states and counties with his parents thanks to their work and the only constant being their Chevy, his first home. And when she had slid into the driver’s seat, the interior wrapped itself around her like a welcome hug, and something inside her warmed up like a healing balm.

She threw herself into researching all the ways to best look after her car - after affectionately naming her Andarna, another ode to Dad - and no one could argue that when Violet put her mind to learning the ins and outs of something, that she wouldn’t master it.

“Shit,” she hissed presently, as she took stock of what had made the ticking noise. She reached for the snapped timing belt she could just about see the frayed ends of, tugging until the damage was clear. Narrowing her eyes, she peered at it, then hummed to herself. That didn’t explain the vibrations though.

She heaved a sigh and fished around some more, and was elbows-deep trying to get a look under, cursing and sweating, when her phone rang.

Groaning, Violet straightened up slowly and reached into her back pocket, grimacing at the oil on her fingers as she swiped at her phone. Devera, her screen alerted her, and her eyebrows shot up as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Violet,” her boss answered, “We’ve just had a new lead come in. How far are you?”

Violet pursed her lips. It wasn’t exactly unheard of to wrap up a case only for a new one to come their way immediately after - but it was definitely a rarity. “I’ll be there in 20.”

“I’ll fill you in as soon as you arrive,” she promised before shutting.

Well. That was strange. Violet blinked down at her phone, then at her car, the engine still on full display, and dropped her head back with a gusty sigh. “Looks like you’ll have to wait for me, girl,” she murmured, gently dropping the hood and locking her car before turning back to head inside her apartment.

Seventeen minutes later, she was stepping out of Rhi’s car, having scrubbed off the engine oil at home and freshened up, catching her friend before she could head down to her law firm down the road from Violet’s own workplace. She had ordered a new timing belt to arrive tonight so she could at least knock off one thing on her list by the time she returned home after work.

She blew a kiss back at her best friend and got one in return, then strode into the foyer, mind abuzz with what kind of priority lead they may have received if Devera hadn’t wanted to mention anything over the phone.

They’d had a couple of significant leads in the past like this.

Of course, Violet had a keen eye for high security leads considering her upbringing and consecutive distancing from Lilith Sorrengail, deputy chief of the law enforcement department, among other things that Violet had yet to work out. Well, and her mother. She hadn’t chosen to become a private eye after her father passed away just for the hell of it - although there was no doubt she sought the thrill of solving cases and piecing information together.

She nodded at Nadine at the front desk as she walked on through to Devera’s office, knocking lightly once before entering.

Whatever she had thought to find inside, she never would have expected to come face-to-face with one Cam Tauri, sitting across from a stern Devera. They both looked up as she stepped in, her wide eyes fixed on the familiar but more grown-up face of the Tauri family’s youngest. She shut the door behind her with a decisive click of the lock, not taking her eyes off him.

“Violet,” said Devera, motioning for her to sit. “It seems you’re both already acquainted.” Her keen gaze didn’t miss much.

Violet narrowed her gaze, not sure what game Cam was playing in coming here - she hadn’t heard from him in years, and she didn’t exactly trust his father or older brother Halden, so she held her tongue until he spoke first, clearing his throat.

“Yes, I… your reputation precedes you both, of course,” he said smoothly, glancing between the two women, the cool look of haughtiness covering his expression where Violet could see nervous lines before. “As I told your partner here,” he added to Violet, “I’m looking into my brother’s disappearance.”

“Your brother’s disappearance,” she replied, flatly.

Alic Tauri’s name had spread through their databases last year when his father, the chief of the law enforcement department - also her mother’s higher-up - had tried to hush up the details around his disappearance, seemingly embarrassed by whatever his incompetent foolhardy son had gotten caught up in and any damage to his own reputation as a result. But as far as Violet knew, Alic had gone off the rails a long time before that.

“And that,” said Devera flatly, “is the extent of what he’s told me.”

Violet looked at her carefully; she clearly did not know who sat before them. Again, what game was Cam playing?

“Well, yes, you see - I’d like to work with Sorrengail alone,” he added coolly.

She raised her eyebrows, and exchanged glances with an unimpressed Devera.

Devera was not exactly her boss, more so a mentor in the field, but she had many years of experience under her belt, not to mention her time with the military; so Violet trusted her expertise while also using her knowledge to gain a leg-up in the PI world. They worked almost all their cases together, Violet being much more suited for field work than her older counterpart, while Devera managed their databases and kept things running smoothly in the office.

“Well, then,” she said, spreading her hands as if to say go ahead to Violet. “You heard the man. He can follow you to your office.”

Cam met her eyes and stood up swiftly, waiting for Violet to take the lead. She communicated silently to Devera that she had this covered, and received a grim nod in return. The older woman may not know who exactly this was, but she clearly gathered he was more high profile than their usual leads.

Still silent, Violet ushered him into her office, closing the blinds of her windows and once again locking the door behind her.

“Alright.” She turned to him sharply, watching him stand up straight defiantly at her attention. “What’s this about, Cam?”

“Aaric,” he immediately said.

“What?” she asked, perturbed.

“You’re to call me Aaric in company, and not a peep of the family name,” he muttered, then seeing her deadly narrowed eyes, added, “Please, Violet.”

She let loose a long breath and counted to ten in her head. “And your brother? Alic? Am I also to call him by his middle name?” she asked, sarcastically.

He dropped his mask a bit to frown at her, having the nerve to actually look affronted. “Don’t be silly, we both know he’s dead.”

That caught her attention swiftly. Chewing on her bottom lip, Violet eyed him in a new light. He had grown, that was right, but there really was something else there - an edge in his eyes, the way he fixed his jaw, the light brown fuzz there and the shadow behind his scowl giving the look of someone who carried a hidden weight. Also, while she’d had her suspicions about the middle Tauri son, she hadn’t actually known for certain that he was dead, and she had definitely had much greater things to keep an eye out for over the past few years than the whereabouts or living status of the family of a man she despised.

“No,” Cam - or Aaric - continued, his eyes sweeping her room unseeingly in a nervous tic, seemingly unaware he had just dropped a minor bombshell on her. “That’s just my cover story.” When he looked back at her, Violet felt alarm bells start to ring in her head, almost wishing she could stop the next words from leaving his mouth. “What I really need you to do, is uncover my father’s secrets.”

–

When Violet had left the field of law that she had been studying with Rhi, to instead pursue a career as a private investigator, her closest friends hadn’t so much as batted an eye. They had seen how formidable she was in her research, how she was able to uncover facts about her case studies and piece together the relevant laws and procedures in a fraction of the timespan it took some of her peers. They didn’t question her motives, besides that she was a natural at the job.

She had never told a single soul what pushed her to make the leap.

Not even Mira, who had spent the better half of six months going between her and their mother, thinking she had had a hand in the youngest Sorrengail’s decision, and then trying to convince her ‘baby’ sister that law was what she was meant to do, and didn’t she remember what Dad had always envisioned for her? But when she had seen that Violet had made up her mind and had gone into the PI world with all the finesse and cunning of a seasoned investigator, she had taken a step back and become one of Violet’s fiercest cheerleaders.

But still, Violet didn’t tell her.

For all that anyone knew, their eldest brother Brennan - detective lieutenant of his own police squad - had died in an accident, a leaked gas explosion, years ago on a job that their mother had authorised. That Tauri had authorised. He had supposedly been chasing a trail on one Riorson, of Riorson and Sons, a cybersecurity firm that Lilith Sorrengail had had viciously shut down in a power move one night a few years ago following Brennan’s death, on various counts of fraud and money laundering. But Violet knew that Brennan, in the weeks leading up to this alleged case, had been following leads on an unrelated homicide charge - although how she knew that was arguably not within the bounds of ‘legal’.

Their father’s health had become incredibly poor in the months after, the loss of his son and firstborn a heavy weight on his already-tired heart, and the grief that followed had torn the Sorrengail family apart for good.

Violet hadn’t communicated with her mother in a good four years - but that didn’t mean she hadn’t kept tabs on her…. and, consequently, on Tauri Senior.

Not even Devera knew what Violet kept in her own personal databases; and now, Cam Tauri stood before her, about to unravel all that she had been working on in the background, by his mere presence.

–

Violet was faintly surprised she hadn’t worn a hole right down her office carpet from how many circles she had paced while Cam spoke.

Besides his casual sharing of his brother’s fate, he had not mentioned anything so far that Violet was not already aware of. Tauri Senior was running a tight ship in the law enforcement agency, those closest to him kept quiet regarding his real motives behind certain moves - such as the Riorson case - which he had administered charges against with a swiftness and brutality that belied the usual bureaucratic processes around here. The man had made many enemies on the streets, that much she knew, and of course Lilith was right up there with him, her hands allegedly just as dirty. But she could not prove it, or uncover what exactly they were working on, or why it all felt so shifty except that her gut - which had not steered her wrong yet - told her there was more underneath the surface.

And then, Cam uttered words she had to pause and repeat, confused. “Wait, did you say you think he has his hands on VENIN tech?”

“Yes,” Cam said grimly.

“But…” She trailed off, thinking fast. “How? Barrens Inc. got shut down long before they finalised that kind of tech, and with good reason.”

“Shut down by who?” he asked pointedly.

“Fuck.”

“Exactly.”

How had she missed this? “How are they operating it? Are they operating it? It was meant to be breakthrough research that had backed it up, it’s not something any old engineer can just run,” she ruminated, thinking out loud. Cam watched her silently. “This changes everything. We’re not supposed to be thinking about using that kind of technology on civilians, not even by the law enforcement.” How many layers were hiding under the widespread corruption that she still had no real leads on?

Well - no leads until now.

“Yeah, well,” Cam muttered, dropping his head into his hands tiredly. “We can’t have our enemies threatening public security now, can we? Of course we need every heads-up we can possibly use.”

Something about his words niggled at Violet’s already whirring brain, besides the thick sarcasm coating his tone, but she moved sharply behind her desk and fired up her personal laptop instead of pulling on that thread. She could not use the shared databases for this - it was much too risky for anyone, even Devera, to catch even a whiff of what they might be working on - so she settled into her chair and pulled up her own databases instead.

“Right,” she said, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder as she began to type rapidly. “Here’s what we need…”

–

It was well past sundown by the time Violet slipped out of the cab she’d taken home, letting him drop her off at the beginning of her street rather than her doorstep so she could walk in the silent, dark, cool night air for a few minutes, needing a respite from the hours of thinking and trying to piece together pieces that refused to fit.

She paused by Andarna to sweep a hand over her metallic bonnet, half-wishing she could have spent the day tinkering away here instead of this relentless weight of Cam’s - Aaric’s, she had to remind herself - new lead. She shook her head, continuing up the steps of her building to her unit. There was a small delivery box waiting for her outside her door, and she checked the sticker to find that it was indeed the car’s timing belt she had ordered earlier that day.

At least one thing would be fixed by tomorrow morning.

Remembering the shuddering of her car underneath her feet when she had braked to park earlier that day, Violet grimaced. She knew it was the brake pads. They had needed a service before her last job which had taken the better part of a fortnight, and lots of driving around, so she knew logically that it had only been a matter of time before they gave up. It was just her luck that they happened in this moment.

As she let herself into her small home, throwing herself gladly on the couch to finally lay still on a horizontal surface (her aching joints thanked her loudly), she let herself think of the mysterious X in her phone contacts list. She knew that she could ideally claim the damages to her car from his own insurance, as she had already insinuated to him that she would do, but the idea of going through that whole process with insurances and making claims was enough to flare up a headache; let alone talking to him again which set her stomach twisting uncomfortably. Now that her mind was slowing down from the constant whirr of the Tauri lead, she couldn’t shake off the lingering intensity of his dark gold-flecked gaze as she wondered for the umpteenth time what a man like that was doing running - or speeding - away from that ferocious woman who had followed him.

She had unlocked her phone and found his number while thinking. She had to snort at the pretentious ‘X’ he had labelled himself - had he not realised she had caught his name from the woman, Catriona? Or was he accustomed to going around putting his contact details in girls’ phones under a solitary initial? Maybe he thought it added to his dark and mysterious charm-

Charm? Her brain definitely meant something else.

But - she stubbornly moved her thought process on - he had purposefully chosen to give her his number. This told her, at surface level, a few things:

1. He didn’t want her to have his licence details which, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t given her his entire first name, added to her certainty that he was holding onto some sort of privacy with regards to his identity.

2. He didn’t take her number, so he was sure that she was going to contact him.

3. That meant he knew he was at fault and that she likely had damaged something in her car to need to contact him in the first place.

4. He was an arrogant piece of work.

She huffed a breath, feeling frustrated all over again.

Never one to ignore a challenge, she pressed the call button and raised the phone to her ear.

Maybe she was just keen for a distraction.

The phone only rang once before that low voice answered. “Yes?”

What was she doing?

Violet set her jaw. “It’s me.”

There was a pause on the other end. She, once again, quashed the flush that rose up her chest at her own nonsensical response.

She heard a faint mutter of what might have sounded like ‘violence’ but before she could demand coherence, he said clearly - and she could hear the cocky smirk in his voice, “Thought I’d never hear from you. What with how hot and bothered you were yesterday, I figured you’d waste no time assessing your damages and ripping me a new one as soon as you got home.”

Did this dickhead think this was a game? She sat up, shooting back sharply, “I’m flattered you were waiting for me.”

He chuckled, a quiet sound that sent tingles straight down her traitorous spine. “You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?”

What the hell. “I wouldn’t sound quite so cocky if I were in your position,” she gritted out.

“And why not?”

“Because, you asshole, you owe me repairs, like I said.”

“I’ll Venmo you the amount,” he said easily, as if he hadn’t given her a headache yesterday arguing with her about who was at fault.

She pulled the phone away for a second to rub a hand down her face, irritated all over again. She returned it to snap, “What’s your deal?”

“What’s your deal?” he snapped back, and she narrowed her eyes in a deathly glare that she hoped reached him somehow.

“I’m sorry?!”

“You called me for your repairs, and I agreed. What’s your issue, exactly?”

“You!” she cried, forgetting for a moment that she was speaking to someone who was probably involved in the kinds of things she was usually hired to uncover, if yesterday’s weird exchange was anything to go by. “My issue is that you’re infuriating to deal with, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make you special. You’ll have to get in line,” he growled.

That voice and his words were doing opposite and confusing things to her body, and she was really starting to regret this entire phone call.

She huffed, not caring that it sent static down the line. “Fine, whatever. I’m texting you the amount. I’d like to get Andarna back on the road in the next couple days ideally. Work doesn’t wait.”

Another brief pause, then a surprised, “Andarna?”

Ugh, she did not need a hot stranger’s judgement at this point. “Yes,” she said shortly. “Goodbye, Xaden.”

She felt a fierce vindication when she heard a very audible surprised breath sucked in from his end, before she shut the line in lieu of the flipped bird she really wished she could send him instead.

She texted him her Venmo with just her first name for reference, and the amount for repairs after taking a moment to search up the required parts; then tossed her phone aside and dropped her head back on her couch’s headrest, doing her best to relax and release the tension in her neck and shoulders. It was no use, she was ten times more wound tight than she had been before the stupid phone call.

Her phone dinged three times with consecutive notifications, and she groaned, shutting her eyes tightly. She didn’t need to see what the messages read. It wasn’t important.

But her traitorous hand inched towards the phone anyway, and without opening it she read the replies on her lock screen:

X

Done.

7:43 PM

X

Violet, huh? Looks like Violence suits you.

7:44 PM

And the third was a notification confirming she had received the amount deposited into her account.

She stared at the two messages until her phone screen dimmed. This confusing man was not going to let her mind rest, clearly.

[seijorhi]

Rhi I don’t know if you’ve already shared a thirst of a purge!au but bodyguard iwa inspired by purge:election year HSNSNBD sorry for the brainrot coz i just recently read undertow and the writing’s so good and intense 🥹 ur an amazing author, rhi!!

I actually haven’t seen all the purge films, only the first one hshdjdjdkd so I have no idea if what I say next is even remotely close to the plot or not but who cares here goes :))

You pick Iwa because he’s strong and quick, and you feel safe with him. The purge reduces crime, yes, but it’s never eliminated it entirely. After watching Iwa take down a would be shooter on the campaign trail without breaking a sweat, there’s no one you trust more to stay by your side on Purge night.

And Iwa is loyal. He might think you’re too idealistic, too naive – too good for the political shit fight you’re dropping yourself into, but he’ll keep you safe. Not out of the goodness of his heart, or because he believes in what you’re preaching, not even for the money. He’s not so noble as all that (he’s never been anything but selfish where you’re concerned).

Iwa was born for violence. There’s something deep inside of him that craves it. Maybe that’s just human nature – he thought that for a while, watching people burn shit and break things, killing for the sheer fun of it on Purge night. But then there’s people like you, who condemn the needless violence, flinch from it.

Maybe you are right, and people as a whole are better than this. He isn’t. He’s a twisted piece of fucking work, but if he’s hurting people, killing them for you, well, that scratches his itch just fine.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ FLUIDITY

tw. dubcon, monsterfucking, explicit size kink, interspecies sex, reader has sex pollen like effects, communication barrier, manipulation, yandere (other parts will contain a lot more explicit dark kinks so please read every individual part's warnings!) wordcount. 8.7k

part 1 of —

a/n. ♡♡ thank you so much rhi for keeping me going through this, idk if i would have pushed through if not for you so ily ily ily and this fic is just indulgence as a period piece and a monsterfucking fic but i hope you give it a chance and like it bc there's moresomes a-coming and this is just the beginning so! yeA i hope you guys enjoy mwuah mwuah mwuah ♡♡

tachibana makoto x fem!reader ( x other characters coming)

Dragonflies glint the prettiest, richest silver you’ve ever seen under the right light. The rosy evening sun casts the entire river into a blooming glow— complete with a soft blanket of fog that rolls along the base of the trees. “Your maiden servants worry about you, you know,” a voice softly calls, and the rustle of shrubbery makes you turn.

You don’t really want to know how long the man’s been guarding you without a word. If it were anyone but one of your father’s most trusted men, you’d probably have some distrust. Instead you only pull your knees to your chest, and continue tossing rocks into the babbling brook.

“Lady, it’ll get dark soon. Your parents don’t want you playing out here so late.”

The small area isn’t open enough to lure any visitors. You’d be fine. Still, you slowly bob your head, waiting for him to step away from the tree edge into the river bank with you. “I had a weird dream, only it didn’t feel like a dream.” The reeds sway in the wind, and you almost let the perfect surrounding whisk away the thought. But the man’s hand drops from his sword, and he gives the faintest of nods. “There was a monster here when I fell asleep— one with a huge mouth packed full of teeth. I saw eyes in the water, and hair so long it covered its whole body.” The tart remnants of your delicately applied makeup wash away as you swallow. “I think- it was a yokai.”

“There’s no yokai here, lady,” he patiently responds, and you turn to him better. This time taking a proper look. If the damp hair tied in a bun is anything to go off of, he was most likely called out of his bath to come out looking for you. You bite your lip, apology lingering on your tongue. But that’s where it stays, as the man continues. “There’s monsters only where people don’t go. You needn’t worry.”

“Are you comforting me?” A slight giggle passes your lips before you can help it. “I know you think I’m lying. You don’t believe anything you don’t see with your own eyes.”

“... It’s not for a lack of trying.” He smooths a hand over his hakama, before resting it back on the pristine handle of his sword. The dragonflies buzz over the low edge of the water, and your feet ache a little from the cold. You’d love to ask to be carried right about now, but spare the poor man the effort. It’s the least you can do. After another few minutes of silence and watching the sun disappear entirely below the tree line, he finally clears his voice. “Come on, lady. We should really get back. You’re precious to your parents. You’re precious to us all. I can’t leave you here.”

This river runs from the high mountains all the way through the small lake that borders the gates of your home; and all the way down the lowlands— and it’s said that on the day of your birth the river flooded, and provided the most bountiful harvest of the last few decades. Even as a child, there was no ignoring the gleeful whispering of the ladies, nor the calculated introductions of sons of poorer lords at every birthday or feast. Some day not too long from now you will get married and spread providence over the land… and there won’t be time for napping by rivers or running off half-dressed into the forest.

Somehow, despite the honor, a small part of you goes cold at that. The water glistens under the last of the light— and you take a long look into the deep of it. The eyes the color of hot coals flash through your mind once more, and you start pulling the fabrics of your dresses aside to put your zori back on. “I know it was a monster- but-” The wind picks up when you turn over your shoulder and smile your most genuine smile. “I wasn’t scared, I think. Perhaps it was friendly.”

The guard is quiet as he watches you get up from the riverbank, and sticks a comfortable distance after helping you gently up onto your feet. You suppose he doesn’t really have the heart, or perhaps confidence, to tell you what he really thinks of your childish talk. The barely-there path back to your home has you growing much more tired— as if weights are tied to your legs. You wish you could stay. The moss crunches softly under your feet, and the dewy air starts to feel a bit cold to the touch. Despite everything, it’s always peaceful here. You cast a brief glance up to the man as he pushes the shrubbery aside. His face has a vacant sort of look, until he catches you looking, and his mouth curls up. “I’ll tell your maiden servants to prepare a purifying ritual for you.”

“Ugh, no, please. Anything but that.”

+

“The koi fish aren’t around anymore, are they, lady?” There’s a slight hesitation in her voice as your maid walks up.

You nod, lift your sleeves to brush your fingers through the water and wait. You got them as a present for your coming of age festivities— the most beautiful blue grey with red fins— much too expensive for your liking but a courting gift nonetheless. You’d been quite fond of the walks out of your houses’ walls because of them. The feed floats sadly on the surface of the inlet, where the clear river water shows no sign at all of the normally curious animals. “It seems like they’ve gone.” What a shame.

Your other maiden scans the area, before rushing to help you up onto your feet as she lowers her head. “Should we ask the master to procure some more? We know feeding the fish brings you much joy.”

The girl helps to fix your sleeves again, before awaiting your call. “No, that’s quite alright. There’s no use replacing a gift.” You cast a wary glance at the bay once more, not quite sure what you’re looking for; but fail to find anything out of the ordinary. A sight furrow comes to your brow, before you hike up your layers of skirts- much to the shock of your two servants- and turn to them with a softer smile. “I would like to be alone for a bit—”

“Lady!” one of them squeaks, but you only laugh.

“I am certain, Hitsu. Tell my father I will be home before tea and dinner, and if you could prepare my bath…” The dark brunette has a question on her tongue, but does nod with the same trained properness that you’ve come to know. “I simply wish to walk along the river, I won’t swim. It’ll be quick, I promise.” It’s not a lie. You have no intention of ruining your beautiful, expensive clothing by going any further than a shallow few steps. But there’s a nagging memory somewhere in the back of your mind— 

You used to have so many dreams, all of them now too faint to recall. Both young ladies give each other a look, before eventually bowing deeply and heading back towards the palace gates.

See, that nagging sense that you’re forgetting something important, something crucial, overcomes you. It’s almost impossible to ignore, and you kick off your shoes to tread carefully along the edge of the deep pool of fresh spring water. The moss is soft under your feet, keeping a tight grip on your embroidered silks.

When you were only a few years old, you used to have these dreams. Dreams of drowning, of ghouls and demons. They grew scarcer the older you got, and eventually even the weekly purification spells and chants became declared unnecessary. But where the memories once sat, now only a blank hole remains in your mind. And however hard you try to remember, you can never quite get there. You make it to the sloped edge of the river not much later, stepping up the small sputtering waterfall and a few round stones between stray bamboo— nearly still water pooling at your feet.

It’s chilly, but not freezing. Something scratches in the back of your skull, deep down. It trickles down your neck, and with a steady heartbeat, it breathes.

But you can’t catch the thought, and the harder you try, the cloudier it becomes— eventually you click your tongue and start walking along the water edge up stream. You should look for your fish. If they swam out of the inlet somehow, maybe they’d be around. They are, much like you are, bred for captivity and wouldn’t survive too long on their own. The sun casts warm spring rays onto your skin, walking in much needed solitude. When you barely realize you’ve spaced out, you’ve already made it to a bend in the river where peach blossoms float on the otherwise pristine surface of the water— and despite your previous care, you drop your dress.

The blossoms swirl in slow circles. And a raindrop lands on your nose. 

Arms, wrapped tight around your chest. Claws. Wide lashless eyes.

Something floods your brain so suddenly that you stumble back a few steps and gasp, sucking in a breath.

It was here. You can’t exactly make out what, but your gut recognizes the trees, the scraggly stones sticking out of the water. Your lungs full of water, and hands all over.

Bumps rise all over your back as you look around, and water seeps up along your tarikubi robe. It’s so quiet, and the stillness starts to trouble with each droplet that comes down. But you breathe. You’ve been here, perhaps more than once, and the aching, pressing itch deep in your head grows more unbearable. When a metallic flicker catches your eyes, you glance down. The rain now starts up more properly, and though the trees provide some shelter, there’s no hiding away from the cold as you walk in just deep enough to bend and pick up a dainty golden chain from between the smooth rocks.

It’s fine like thread, and cold to the touch, and though you can’t quite explain it; something about this finely crafted piece is familiar too. Even through the rain and the chills crawling all the way up your spine, you study the necklace closer. The intricate detail is almost too pristine.

A soft splash on the other side of the river startles you— The sudden scare makes you lose your balance and fall back onto your lower end. Hard. The ache immediately has you whimpering, but instead of worrying about the pain, you slowly try to catch yourself on the rocks; pained enough in the motion that you swear — you see a person diving underneath the water edge. Something pale and fast. You scream, and whatever you saw dashes away before you can think about doing different. The blossoms drift off as you scramble back up; your bruised palms sting, and your heartbeat still hammers hard in your throat when the silence returns.

But the blurry flash of maroon hair and fiery red eyes you caught is long gone.

And much too soon, the clouds that had seemed so fluffy and beautiful earlier turn a dreary grey. You turn on your heel and book it back down the river side on bare feet— still clamping the chain between your fingers.

+

The wick of your lantern splutters with thick oil as you fail to catch sleep. Even with the spring weather it’s chilly, with you remaining wrapped under a thick blanket. You breathe a long sigh, and listen to the crackling of the candle beside your bed in the absence of any other sound. The earlier lecture of your father, your mother, and even the normally quiet and collected matron of the house still lingers on your mind— it’s not like you can blame anyone. You wouldn’t be the first stupid, brazen young girl who happened to drown, and despite the quiet lives most girls like you live, you most likely won’t be the last.

You shouldn’t have been out there. Your servants had been ghastly pale from fright upon seeing the state in which you returned, and even the thorough scrubbing and hours-long bath didn’t do much to alleviate the ache in your lower back.

Despite all that, you’re stuck. Eyes -monstrous, unnatural eyes- appear in the crevices of your mind each time you close your own. No amount of prayer makes the longing fade, and the longer you lay here, the deeper they seem to dig into your flesh. Goosebumps crawl all over your skin once more. When you throw your blankets off you, you go digging in one of the woven baskets for the thickest bland garments you’ve got— tying them around your hips until you’re dressed enough to peer out into the hall. The frigid air current howls through the house when you gather your lantern, some woven socks, and after a brief bit of deliberation; snatch the golden chain from beside your pillow.

The palace is quiet at night, an almost eerie sort of calm that is broken only by the soft ‘pats’ of your feet on the hardwood— with the lanterns barely providing enough light to see a good arms length at a time. The wind pushes you forward, nuzzling deeper into the collar of your clothing until you make it outside. Even under the starry sky, there’s no doubt that this is a stupid idea. No good can come from nightly outings — though you’ve seen girls come and go in similar ways under the cover of night, you’re quite sure their purpose was less out-for-trouble than you are now. But what else can you do?

How could you ever sleep soundly not knowing what’s out there.

With only the flickering reflection on the water, you bow before your home— you’d be back soon enough. You love your clan— and you have no intention of getting caught in long lectures twice in a night. The guards at the gates have no way of noticing you as you slip into the brush and cover the lamp from sight, as cold breaths form clouds before your eyes.

Your legs move almost instinctively until you come upon the peach tree, and the pretty white flowers rain down with the breeze. You place the candle by your feet; and hesitate before taking your own seat on a round rock right by the water edge. You’ve never seen a yokai. Not that you can remember at the very least, but if you would have-you didn’t expect to here. Not the river that blessed your birth, or the one who gives everyone life by way of harvest. Maybe what you saw was a farmer bathing, or a particularly pale, large cod— wouldn’t that make more sense. Isn’t that exactly why you didn’t tell your father?

Because naïvity and silly wonder seems better than monsters lurking among the shrub.

Sadly, but perhaps unsurprisingly, a soft splashing in the water sets every hair on your body upright— and your mouth goes dry. It’s so dark. So awfully dark that it’s hard to see even past your own feet, if not for the broken reflection of your candle in the water. You know it's there. You feel it, by the rancid sort of churning in your stomach, the rapid beating of your heart. You swallow the tightness in your throat as best you can. “I’ve come to return your necklace. I didn’t mean to steal it, so I’ve come to give it back.” You wish you could let your eyes grow used to the dark, but without candle light, it’d be so much harder to get back home in one piece.

After just the sounds of the river drag on, you slowly take another breath, and try to bite back the wetness that rises every time you try and fail to find the eyes you know are looking at you. “I don’t wish to harm anyone.” The wind seems to howl harder across the river, and you can’t fight the horrible visions of monsters all around you, just there in the darkness; tightening your hands into fists. “So I wish you would not harm me either. You can have it back.” Your hand shakes when you hold out the chain above the water— not nearly far enough for anything to reach it without coming into your sight. But you’re too frightened to go any deeper, and your lungs tighten.

“Please, I-”

The peaceful spluttering of the water is suddenly disrupted by a much louder splashing, and you freeze up with a sharp gasp, shoulders trembling despite yourself. You don’t dare move any more than that— only after a minute or so of silence, you continue. “Hello? Don’t you want your necklace back?”

The reeds shake in the wind, and one of the blossoms brushes along your cheek as it falls into your crouched lap. Your breathing is tense enough to almost hide the little mumble that reaches back. It’s soft, sweet like dripping honey, and makes your whole spine tingle. “We want.”

If you had any less sense, you’d probably run right back home. But the idea of moving is too terrifying, so you’re stuck rooted in place as you take a breath. The voice sounds young enough, but the Japanese is distinctly older than your own dialect, rolling off the tongue with a vague foreign lilt— and it takes your frightened brain a little longer than you want to process that the voice isn’t simply human. When another little splash sounds a bit closer, you pull your outstretched hand back to your chest. “Can you see me?” Your own voice wavers when trying to make out any shape in the river. Alas, it’s just so dark that any further effort hurts your eyes.

“Yes.”

“I’ve come to give back your necklace. I got scared and took it, I’m sorry. I mean no harm-”

“He told.” The voice is unbearably clear. Almost like it’s being spoken directly into your head, even though it’s just a mere whisper among the rippling water. It’s distracting, and feels ice cold between your ears.

“Who’s he?” you try, biting your lip. The river seems to stare back at you, and you can’t do anything but hope you aren’t making some horrible mistake. Are you supposed to talk to the monsters that go bump in the night? “I- I don’t know where you are, I can’t see you.” Despite the soft, gentle nature of the voice, your heart patters wildly, unable to let go of your fear when there’s another closer splash. You must only be a dozen feet away from each other now, and still you can’t even see past the water at your toes. The voice stays quiet for a while.

“You don’t see is … better.”

You don’t respond for even longer. But for whatever reason, you almost want to agree. Not seeing, he almost sounds like a childhood friend of yours. The soft, honeyed words aren’t so frightening when you can’t see what they’re being spoken by; and you gather your last bit of courage to softly open your palm out again towards the night. “I’ll throw it over to you. Can you catch it?”

“No ‘throw’.” The -whatever- struggles with the word as he says it, before going quiet. You’re not sure if he doesn’t want you to throw it, or he simply doesn’t understand— so you just bite your lip and wait for any further comments that eventually do follow. “You put paw- h-hand.” Then, after another breath, “Come.” With a slight tremble in your voice, you breathe out a little laugh. You are really being asked to be braver than any girl with sense would— dragging your lantern closer over the pebbles until it’s right by your feet. Cursing yourself, you blink back nervous tears, trembling as you hike up the edge of your skirts, just the tiniest bit, and place only one foot into the shallowest part of the river for stability.

Your hand drops halfway outstretched, and you watch the flame where she glints back on the chain.

More splashing makes way for a more disturbing sound once it surfaces, of a body dragging over the shallow of the river towards you, scraping along the blunt stones— and you almost dart away when the sound comes close enough to reach. But your fingertips are almost frozen solid when another hand comes ever faintly into view, and wetness drops into your palm. To call it a hand is gracious, you decide. There’s longer digits, clawed, and webbed between each bony finger, and the wet glossy skin is more curved spike than thumb. The paw slides carefully along your hand, swiping up the chain as it goes— and leaves a cold coating all over your palm that you snatch back too quickly.

It’s unbearable to stay so close to something and not see it now, and you quickly hurry back to the safety of your rock as the same shuffling goes back to the water. Your heartbeat’s in your throat, and you can’t find any polite words to offer it until the yokai speaks again.

“Rin present, with- no, f-for you. You give present back, make happy. I am thank you.” You’re welcome, you think, but you barely manage to paint on a little smile before wringing your hands together and picking your lantern back up for safekeeping.

“I’m heading home now. If I’m not back soon my guards will find out.” It doesn’t feel entirely appropriate to thank it for not killing you when it had ample chance to, so you stay quiet. But there’s also a sense of gratitude that washes over you. Soon you’ll be back in bed like all of this was a dream. That seems right. That seems good. Your tongue lingers on your words. “You … What's your name?” The river bank feels much safer now you’re back on solid ground, and you can see the peach blossoms you almost slipped on.

There’s another long pause, where you almost make a run for it back all the way home, before the voice sounds out again from the dark— sugary sweet in its tone.

“Makoto.”

+

You’re pretty sure you should be questioning your own sanity. Everyone else wouldn’t hesitate to, and after the few restless nights you’ve had, you should be staying as far away as you can. But curiosity, mixed with a slight sense of obligation, has you walking the river bank like a little droplet flowing back to the sea. The quiet, scruffy man following behind doesn’t say much… never does, and you can’t say you dislike it. But you feel the glances your way, distracting you. Soon you find yourself clearing your voice. “You’re wondering why I’m walking this same path again?”

The older man only hesitates for a moment. “No, lady.”

“Sure you are. I would wonder if I were you.” There’s a faint smile that makes its way up, glancing out over the babbling brook to your left as grass tickles your ankles. “Not too long now and I’ll be engaged…” The peach blossoms above are almost done blooming— and you’ve never known your father to be an indecisive man. “Walking gives me a little break from all the fussing attendants, and father's advisors. Which is why it’d be even better if I were alone-”

It doesn’t take much pushback at all for the man to stop in place and give you a little look, resting his hand on the handle of his sword. “Lady.”

“Oh, please Azuma-san, we’ve had this same conversation for years.”

“I am not to leave you unprotected-”

You turn on your heel to face him. “I want to swim.” The stubborn frown on his face doesn’t move an inch, as your eyes go a little more puppy-esque. You have to know, so you have to lie. It doesn’t bring you joy either, but you might go insane if you have to live with questions for the next twenty years barred in some fancy prison of your future husband’s making. “-Swim right here. Without my very expensive clothing getting ruined.” Still that stone wall refuses to budge, and you throw your last bit of dignity into the ring. If this was anyone else you’d never hear the end of your unrefined words. “So I am going to get undressed.”

“—Ag-lright, just quiet. Your servants hear you and I’ll be lynched in the square.” He sighs deeply, rubbing his hand over his scruff, then gives a little bow. He wants nothing more than to roll his eyes when you offer back a self-satisfied grin, but instead takes a few steps the way you came with a stern look. “I’ll ask one of your maiden servants to make her way over here.”

“Don’t tell her to hurry!” you chant back, only taking off the heaviest layer of clothing once he’s out of sight. You lay it safe out of reach, before kicking off your shoes and socks and waddling towards the big stones again. Sure enough, the river here is a lot deeper than it looks. There’s a ledge in the pool that’s dark enough for almost any kind of monster to hide. This at least means your midnight escape wasn’t a total delusion. The peaceful sway of water grass settles when you dip your toes in the water, and wonder. There’s only a brief few minutes where you sit to think, before a slight thrashing once again captures your attention.

Only when you look up, the river is still, safe for a few tiny fish jumping out of the water. You get up, and tie your skirts up higher to inspect. A large maroon shape darts away into the darkness before you can take a good look, splashing droplets all over the river bank— and you hold your breath. You aren’t crazy. That definitely was much larger than any fish you’ve ever seen, and such a brilliant color that nothing but yokai could possess it. Brighter than all the finest silks, shimmering like a mirror. You wait for what could be a few seconds or an hour, before… someone- something else starts coming up from the darkness.

The olive-golden glitter rises so slow you have no choice but to take in another breath, but luckily don’t scare it away. His light chestnut hair is chopped short-ish, and a strangely human face— with cloudy black eyes, and green gashes either side of his neck— where he hovers below the water surface. It’s not human though. The eyes are big, round and deer-like, nose flatter, and his skin seems almost pearlescent. You don’t have the ability to think if you’re brave or just frozen solid. But whatever the case, the humanesque monster seems to stare for quite a while before judging it safe enough to approach.

It’s only then that you get to see the full extent of his body, scaled from ribs down, with a snake-like bottom half that’s at least longer than your entire body, and ending in a beautiful fish-like tail that feathers out in glittering threads. “Oh…” you breathe, and your arms wrap around yourself for protection, but you still don’t move further. Can’t, more like.

The half-man is close enough -and real enough- to feel a bit nauseating. Close enough to set every hair on your body on end and have your heartbeat a wild patter. But it’s the voice that really makes you feel frigid, gulping for air when that soothing tone comes out of a monstrous mouth. Whatever you had expected to see… wasn’t this. You can’t make out if the near-resemblance is comforting, or more frightening. You shiver at the black tongue, against porcelain white teeth.

“You come back.”

Your nod is hesitant, and you fidget with your jewelry in an attempt to calm your nerves. “I- wanted to see who I’d been talking to, that night. I haven’t slept well since then.”

He hoists himself a little further out of the water onto both hands, clawed and boney. “That was you, right? Makoto?” The brunet only gives a single nod of response, and doesn’t take his dark eyes off you for a second. And you want to laugh, though it isn’t too funny. The scene is just so absurd that you have nothing else to do, but laugh. “Isn’t this weird, talking to each other? How come yokai speak Japanese?” your voice comes, and you only hear how childish you sound when it seems to hang over the river without answer.

Out of all the questions you can ask, that’s what is most important to you? Makoto is gracious as he scoots a little closer once again, scraping his long, heavily muscled tail up over the pebbles and stones. “I listen very many year. Always listen, listen woman, listen warrior, listen you.” He blinks, and blondish lashes are the only normality you have staring back at him. “All can’t speak like me. I -hmm, pras-”

“Practice?” you try, and he clearly agrees when his tail pats happily on the ground. When you smile, he grins back wide and kind, his teeth are much sharper than yours. There’s something so human about the look, that you feel your muscles unwind a little further. You suppose, if he wasn’t so strange looking, with the wrong shades and fins here and there; he’d be quite handsome. He’d go over well with the maiden servants in the clan, too. “Many years, huh? Then- How old are you?”

“Hmmm- old. Very…” He doesn’t seem it, though. You avert your eyes when the water flicks over your feet, slowly dropping your shoes to the side. When you look back, he’s gotten closer yet, and is reaching out his hand towards the edge of the water, towards you. Despite your hesitation, and slight disgust— scaly and seemingly frost bitten pale lips, and unnatural greenish marks along his neck that flare out and in— there’s something that makes you want to follow.

A call, or instinct, to glide into the water and feel it embrace you. “You want come in?” he prompts, softly, and you do. You aren’t much of a swimmer even in high summer, and yet. You find yourself closing the distance and reaching out for his hand, letting your fingertips glide along as you get up to your knees into the water, and then get pulled along further step by unsure step. “Good, come.”

“Ah- it’s cold!” you squeak, but Makoto’s fingers wrap around your hand to support you even when you get almost up to your chest into the river, water crawling up your clothing and making your chest feel tight. “Sh- it's so cold.”

“Water not cold. You warm.” Only when he comes up in front of you do you truly notice how much bigger he is. His hands dwarf yours, and even though you’re higher up, his tail is curved aside to fit on the ground so he stares down at you— covering the sun from your view. He towers over any man you’ve ever seen, and his human-esque top half is still much broader than most. Like a hard plane of muscle, marked with thousands of golden freckles that shift in color the longer you look.

Shivers climb up your legs, and the water seeps your energy out of you. Wrapping your free arm around yourself, you rub some heat into your skin. Those pale lashes flutter as he gives you a half lidded glance, and the freckles that also go across his cheeks color a little more amber. “Lady is … cute.” Large hands suddenly slide along your sides up, before dragging over your shoulders and slowly taking your clothing with it, removing one of a few layers as he leans in. “Here, better without.”

“Oh. No- I don’t- think-”

“Shhh. Better, I know,” he seems to get closer, even though you are too busy staring back into the darkness of his eyes to really notice; and let him untie the robes enough to toss it towards the water edge. Then he pauses, and gets up higher onto his coiled tail to pull another layer off and throw it. Until you’re left standing in only your flimsier linen undergarb, and you’re suddenly much too aware of how peaked your nipples are against the scratchy fabric. But his hands slide up along your thighs to start peeling that off too, when you grab for him and shake your head.

Makoto insists. “No cold when not -this.” His hands keep going up even with your pressure on them.

Having a night encounter with a man is one thing, but you don’t know how you’d ever explain this if someone saw. You can’t dart away in a flash and escape the consequences. You have to go home after this. “I need my clothes to go back—” you quickly beg, ignoring the soft pads of his fingers along your upper thighs, “and if people see- Makoto, please.” Your whole body aches with the cold, and though the touch feels nice, it doesn’t seem right. Your nakedness isn’t a simple thing, even if his is.

“Clothes heavy. Water don’t like clothes.” He turns you around and you lose your footing on the stable flooring, arms quickly clinging onto his wide shoulders for support— it does make his point. Your clothes are incredibly heavy soaked, and pull down on you as strong arms ever so slowly wrap around your waist; nose only a few inches from yours. You can’t help it, your face gets hot. Cheeks, ears, nose- everything starts getting a distracting warm glow that you do your best to ignore, pulling your lip between your teeth. Even so, he seems to look down at you with intrigue, water reflecting in the black of his eyes. “What?”

“You’re very close…” you confess, and also try to release some of the tightness of your embrace— but amusement only brings him closer. He tilts his head, before leaning in until your foreheads meet, and the cooler skin consumes you. “Makoto-sama-”

“Human kiss, hm?” He’s so close, and his mouth is right there -and though you have no clue why, you really want to. The thought is almost as real as the air you breathe, feeling his hands roam all over your body through the soaked linen. Your voice doesn’t make it out when you nod, but he still lifts you into his chest, and your fingertips dig into his shoulders instinctively. “Show me how to kiss? You little one -hmm- good- fit.” You can’t help it, in place of physical heat there’s a sort of aching fire that spreads through your limbs the longer you stay close— and once you start you can’t stop.

Your mouth meets his first, lips moving with yours as his arms squeeze tighter; but when your tongue brushes his lips and meets his, he makes a noise. A low sort of purring that rattles his chest, and has him leaning in harder, trying to bury you into his body as your tongues brush and you suck and moan. His taste is mild but his tongue is heavy, and much longer than yours when it slips further into your mouth. Much longer, bigger, and the wetness soon has you feeling like you can’t breathe.

You pull back with a gasp, staring at the way his long tongue brushes along those sharp teeth before he leans in more. “Again.” You try to make some separation between your two bodies, but clearly Makoto doesn’t care for it when he clamps his hand down around your hip and kisses you more, melting to you as his tongue brushes against yours. He kisses like you’re the first and last thing he’s tasted, even when you moan a little whimper at the lack of air. His cold skin prickles against yours, grinding his waist against you slowly as your head pounds. Still, it feels good.

You don’t ever want to leave— and it’s this exact feeling that has you pulling back for air. You must be out of your mind. He stares with a blown out sort of hunger when you say his name again, and run your fingers along his shoulders up a little. “I’m going to get in trouble if someone finds me here- and- it’s not like we can—” Your cheeks get even hotter when you try to say the words, not even sure if he’d understand. Does a yokai’s understanding include human nighttimes? When he shows no intention of putting you down, you bury your face into his chest, feeling even smaller than before.

Though his skin is cold to the touch, there’s an intense amount of heat surging between you two, almost impossible to ignore— and the way you’re positioned against him, large arms caging you against his waist that pushes into you— doesn’t help anything. You can feel yourself get more slick each time you move your legs. He seems to chuckle when you groan- and as if sensing your train of thought, he rubs his nose along your ear and down the sensitive of your neck with a lower voice. “I want see. Human body so little. Want see it.”

That’s the tipping point. Every fiber in your being aches to obey, to let yourself get touched, seen, taken by him— and your mouth drops open a sliver as you struggle to find words. Your feet can’t reach the bottom here, and Makoto seems content to keep rubbing against you in a slow sea-saw motion that makes your center feel entirely hot. And eventually you crack. Blinking up at him, you breathe a faint “okay”, and let him turn you around. His hands are quick in their exploration, sliding under the last layer up your thighs, squeezing every few inches as he goes up. When he gets to your center, there’s a little flutter of his eyes, before those digits slide in and brush over your pussy, rubbing just soft enough to leave you wanting. “Warm,” he breathes, and then pulls you a little closer. “You do me too.”

As he pushes your last layer of clothing open fully and starts sliding it off your shoulders, you allow yourself just a little curiosity. He’s handsome, and he’s close, and you just feel so needy. Your breathing is still short against his chest, but your numb fingers glide down his sides with purpose as the muscles flex under your touch. His chest rumbles when you whine at the prodding and circling of his fingers around your dripping pussy, and you glide your hands down to his tail. The touch feels a little coarse, but he’s warmer there, and when you rub your palm over the area he’d been grinding into your waist, your fingers feel a softer, spongey slit. Makoto hisses when you rub a finger up and down, and you feel more heat burn onto your face. “Here?”

The question is answered when your finger slips in and is all hot, and something bumps you. But he picks you up and with one swift dash, lays you down on the river bank to get up between your legs. You need to open wide to allow him to fit, and can only whine out his name when the weight of his body over yours pushes you into the cold stones. He licks the air a few times, before grunting. You wish you could do anything other than just flush and look away when his hands descend onto your tits and start touching and rubbing, and the pressure leaves you all exposed. But it doesn’t take long for his attention to shift back to between your legs, and now with a better angle, he sinks down to nose below your navel. “Hmn-”

The purring is paired with a flaring of the gashes on his neck, and his eyes roll back. When his hands spread your legs up as wide as you can go, he nuzzles into you, and that long black tongue peeks out to lick slowly. You can’t help it, you moan. Loudly. It feels like a million pinpricks are traveling your body, as the very long, heavy tongue drags a long strip up your center, and then the tip of it laps at the wetness coating your hole— that quickly gets pushed open further with each sloppy lick. His tongue pushes inside you as he sucks and the feeling of something so hot and so- squirmy makes you squeeze your eyes closed. It’s too strange, but you can’t pull back.

Your hands even reach for his head to tangle your fingers in his hair and whine, your back curling from the floor. You’re drenched- no longer just water as your pussy clenches around his tongue that he forces in to lick places you’ve never been licked. Makoto wraps an arm around your thigh to pull it over his shoulder when you curl and wiggle against him- you can’t help it, it feels so good. Everything’s so sensitive, like your entire body’s been doused into hot water and you’re drowning— only difference is, you’re actively longing for more.

It’s better than any drink-induced daze, late night tussle with a stable boy. It’s even better than your own touch and mind, because he’s just so big and you’re so full, so hot. Your hips grind against his face when he sucks again, and his nose brushes your most sensitive area— and try not to let the water into your mouth when you yerk again. “Ah, ahg, Makoto-sama. I can’t- I can’t handle this much, please. Oh dear gods, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Ah-ughhh, f- ah, please -keep going.”

Your lower belly is wound so tight, and even the sound of his breathing against you feels good. You could melt into the floor with how much slick is coating your insides, dripping out of you around the suction on your cunt. And Makoto doesn’t have any intention of moving. Your mind aches— you want more. You want to wrap your entire body around him and come apart— as his large hands squeeze your thighs tight and wrap them around his head like he can’t get deep enough.

The sloppy, wet sounds of his face burying between your legs to stuff you full of tongue, licking and sucking at your sensitive pussy. It has your muscles so tight as you roll your hips against him, and you can’t stop shaking. “Oh, I’m g-gonna cum— I can’t! I can’t. It feels so- gud. Ah, ahh. What is happening?” When your fingers clench in his hair, he lets out a long, animalistic groan as he glances back up. Still his tongue isn’t fully inside you. “I can’t- Makoto, I can’t!” Even though he’s reaching further than fingers can, he’s still able to fold the deft black muscle over your clit and slot his lips around it to suck. Hard.

And your body can’t handle any more. While his heartbeat pulses through his tongue against your clit, everything goes white, your muscles clenching so hard it hurts. And your heart beats so hard it feels like it stops altogether. If you make any noise at all, you can’t hear yourself over the pounding in your head, rattling your body so hard that nothing except you and him exist. Your eyes are shut until you’re aware of how he grunts against you and pinpricks get too unbearable. But he doesn’t stop, lifting your body to his face and allowing you to ride out your orgasm against him for what feels like forever.

When you feel like you can hear yourself breathe again, you unwrap your legs from around his head. “I thought my heart was going to explode. If Hitsu knew…”

Your eyes are teary when they flutter open against the light, and the black abysses that stare back are barely narrowed slits. Dipping his gills into water briefly before getting up above you again, Makoto seems different. There’s something predatory that wasn’t there before. You can’t help but go quiet. As his hands drag your body down a few inches, you swallow. “Are you okay? Sorry. I feel like I should thank you— I haven’t come that hard, ever. I don’t know about yokai but I don’t think I could feel that good.” His muscular body covers most of the river from your view, but you find it almost too hard to look at him. You’re still hot; but your skin feels cold.

His fingers slide down along your side when he lets out a little groan. “Yokai don’t do this.” Then he goes to brush his face and mouth along your throat, and you shiver a little at the feeling. “So pretty. Warm. I like warm. Stay with me?” You let him grind himself on top of you and embrace him the best you can, only fitting around the narrow of his waist, but after just a second you yerk up. Makoto pulls his head back when he notices, and you get another brush against your slit that makes a cold shiver run up your spine. Where the slit sat before, a dick has emerged- and your mouth drops open a little. The thing is vaguely dick shaped, but has spurs at the base like an anchor, is more pointed at the tip; and it also pulses with each breath.

“Pretty warm body, good. Smell good too.”

You can’t help but swear when you avert your eyes, and instead wrap your arms back around his neck. “Oh, fuck.” Surely, this is where you’d draw the line. Right? But the touching of that against you doesn’t make your body react the way you think it should. The prodding along your inner thighs just leaves you feeling empty, like you’d like to start all over again. Makoto grunts out a little breath when your tits brush his chest, before staring down at you.

After a few seconds of studying your face, and probably the heat that’s flooding your features, he licks his lips. “Human men have… hm-”

“Yes,” you quickly say. He smacks his lips and grinds against you again. “They uhm- put it inside.” If the answer shocks him, he certainly doesn’t show it— looking like he’s barely holding back from crashing his face back to yours and turning you over to fuck you like the begging whore you feel like. The longer he just keeps his solid body against yours, the harder it is to ignore yourself getting wet again against the pulsing of his cock. The purring, clicking noise coming from him feels nice, and you pull at him. “You’re not done yet, right? I can do more.”

You angle your hips a little, and try not to sound so desperate when looking up at him for a kiss. “Please- put it inside me. I- I want to feel you.” Your hands slide over the rougher scales down between you two to reach for him, and hesitate a little when his cock is heavy and covered in some sort of slime; and it seems to follow your touch. But you’re too far past embarrassment to truly care, and Makoto groans when you wrap your fingers around him to squeeze softly. “I need you.” You really don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel like your body’s being torn apart. You want to be filled, fucked full of him, and get pumped round of his kids— all things that you shouldn’t be thinking about. You didn’t with any men you’ve been with. You can’t.

Even though you know you’re being ludicrous, when he goes in for a kiss, you cling onto him hard; digging your nails into his back. You don’t even know if he could fit. His cock is proportionate to him- but it’s big and long and girthy enough to put any man to shame. You should care. You should care that you could regret being filled up to your breaking point, but you’re just so, so desperate. You might die if he doesn’t fuck you. You can feel it. “Please, please, please—”

—You slide a few feet across the floor, angry thrashing scaring you up into a flounder as you breathe in deeply. Makoto’s dragged off of you and down before you can even blink, water splashing everywhere; and you struggle back to the riverbank with wide eyes. Now you’re no longer side by side with another person- no, creature- you suddenly feel the entire ache of the cold water. The shortness of breath, the numbness of your lips and hands and feet. You feel the painful sting of your back where you’ve been sliced by a dozen sharp rocks, struggling to keep your head above water. And you feel the soreness between your legs of having been filled by something too big.

When you get over the pure shock, you notice the struggling has stopped, and you notice your creature’s golden shape next to someone else. They glitter and glint even in the low light of the afternoon, and you furrow your brows. The second shape only gets clearer when the light shines through the water and colors the flickers a blinding maroon. Your tongue feels cold.

Your arms wrap over your chest and cover up the best you can when Makoto surfaces again and gives you a kind smile, but you take a slight step back. His long, pale lashes flutter when he reaches out a hand. “Sorry. Rin don’t want to bleed you.” Your back and your painful scrapes are the lesser of your worries though. Whatever spell you were under, you’ve been snapped out of. You feel entirely strange- enough to have hot tears welling up along your waterline. What the hell have you been dragged into? You were going to… do things with some monster you didn’t know existed until today. Your brain screams and pounds, and your stomach is entirely flipped. But the brunet softly continues. “He don’t like I take you. Can you come here?”

“No.” Your hair now sticks to your neck and chest, and every second you’re out of the water, is one where the feeling comes back to your limbs. Your arms are so heavy as you keep them up. “There’s more of you?” You don’t know what you expected, really. Maybe you should have known. Maybe you should have questioned. But how could you have truly known?

“Yes.” he answers after a beat, and swims up a little closer with a frightening ease. “Shhh, okay. He will come. You stay.” You try to tell him not to, but he dips below the water surface before you get the chance to ask him not to, splashing water all over as he does— and you don’t know what else to do but to stare at the small bubbles that pop as peach blossoms wash over your feet. Before too long, the reddish shape surfaces alongside Makoto. He lingers in the deep of the river however; fiery eyes zeroing in on you without blinking at all. He stays submerged from the nose down, and you can’t help but feel too watched. 

Your heartbeat doesn’t calm when the brunet swims up closer, and you take a little breath. “Who’s that?”

“Rin,” Makoto softly, sweetly answers, as if he was expecting the question all along. He smiles wide like a saint, and you have to ignore the voice in the back of your head that tells you to get back in the water. His hand reaches out though, and you almost want to. Almost. Your arms and back break out in goosebumps. Then Makoto looks back at the other yokai, and gives you a smiley once-over. It takes you a little too long to recognize something else that plays over his features though. A strange sort of knowing, like he’s seeing right through you. “You Rin’s mate.”

You don’t know why you don’t get up and run.

“Come back in?”

Only that the voice in the back of your head gets more unbearable. You wrap your hands over your ears, and try to hang on.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[saintmurd0ck]

RHI!!! A million congrats on 2.5k, I can't think of anyone who deserves it more 🥰 and so glad you're back and feeling ok! For the train, I'd loveee to take a trip to 86th st with Mikey Kinsella and “please, for the love of god, shut up for once.” “why don’t you come over here and make me?” i think the way you write it would be SO gorgeous and interesting ❤️ and also because im a slut, i just know id LOSE it over a stop at Heuston Station with Fratt x reader and ❛ you want gentle? wrong fucking address. ❜ Anyways I'm so so excited to read everything you do for this event 🥰 congrats again!!

all fired up

join my sleepover | main masterlist

pairing: michael kinsella x reader

warnings: amanda slander, a tiny bit of spice (minors DNI), aggressive michael / reader, yes we're a little mean but dont worry he gets the upper hand ;)

a/n: christie my gorgeous, thank you so so so much for dropping in 🥺 i hope you like this one, and i am gonna post the fratt request in a separate ask >:) btw i am amending the prompts to better fit the characters i am writing for, so i hope you dont mind xoxo

Michael’s silent rage simmers in your periphery as he leans against the wall like a fallen angel, gritting his teeth, letting his chest rise and fall in short, controlled bursts. Everything in the room is setting him off: the clicking of your pen, the faint hum of the air-conditioner, and the distant noise of traffic from the main road. 

Unfortunately for him, you’re far from caring today; not when you’ve scraped together the business proposal of a lifetime. One that could easily retire you in the blink of an eye.

You’ve worked your ass off to coordinate this, so isn’t it only fair that Michael, being the other major stakeholder in this business, quits his grumbling? It’s as if he can’t — or won’t — comprehend what this means if this works out. If you negotiate your way through this successfully, with Michael there or not, the Kinsellas land on top. They’ll control Dublin, and possibly the whole of Ireland, with opportunities to plant roots and spread vines across all the major networks in Europe. And as you’re the only decision maker not married to — or even fucking — anyone in the family, you’ve had to prove your worth, a thousand times more so. Simply being Michael’s closest friend and confidante didn’t sit well with the others, but you’ve made yourself far more capable than anyone in this business. 

And this deal will cement you into the Kinsella hall of fame. 

You cut a glance to where he’s standing, a momentary pang of empathy softening your expression. He’s exhausted from today, and it isn’t just the circles under his eyes that demonstrate it. You know his tells better than anyone; in fact, you know him so well that just by judging his body language, you can deduce who he’s been with, what he’s been up to, and what he tries hard to conceal. Right now, and at your disdain, you can see Amanda written all over him. It’s obvious in the way he’s carrying himself, with his chin pointed downwards, the tension almost shrugging his shoulders. Even his skin gives it away, from the warmth in his cheeks to the flush at the tips of his ears. 

“Let me guess,” you sigh, breaking the silence, “Amanda thinks you’re not doin’ a good enough job, and you shouldn’t be workin’ with me?” Saying her name is enough to set you off, but you do your best to diffuse the situation, to bring Michael back to the present. 

His eyes flick to yours at the mention of her name, and you grimace inwards at the sharp stab to your gut. “Somethin’ like tha’.”

It confirms what you suspected; that he and Amanda had met up today, for purposes you try not to burden yourself with. It isn’t your business what they get up to, or how many times you notice her silhouette beyond the frosted glass of his front door. 5 times this week, and it’s only Wednesday, you think, chewing on your lip. 

Unease courses through your veins, and so you go to do what’s natural, and sweep the thoughts under the proverbial rug in your mind. You gesture at the mountain of paperwork in front of you. “Are you gonna help me, Michael?”

His only response is a delicate muscle feathering in his jaw, and for some reason, it sends a lick of angry heat up your spine. The deadline to the deal looms in front of you like a ticking time-bomb, and all he can do is stay silent, and God forbid, mope about Amanda?

Your mouth thins as you take a moment to decide if you want to add to his anguish. To deliver an insult worthy of his attention. There’s a rush that flows through you, a sick kind of satisfaction, that tug the corners of your mouth upwards. If it were Eric, or Jimmy, or even Amanda, he would’ve lost his shit by now. He’d probably have stormed out and sulked home, making sure his gun was accessible from beneath his jacket at all times. His heart would thunder in his ears, itching for a fight with some unfortunate soul who’d then be promptly taken out by none other than the Magician. 

Your voice rings out across the room, coming out more confident than you’d played out in your head. “She refuse to blow you today or what?” 

Michael’s brows furrow together. “What did you say?”

“I asked you something, Michael. Are you pissed because Amanda didn’t open her legs for you?”

His mouth twists into a sneer. “I’d stop talkin’ if I were you.”

But you return his glare, your blood thrumming with challenge. “Actually, I commend her for doin’ that. ‘Cause I wouldn’t want to fuck someone so miserable either.”

He’s in front of you in a couple of strides, seething cold fury as his voice drops an octave. When he talks, his breath fans your face. “I said stop fuckin’ talkin’.”

You swallow, feeling your chest heave as some unchecked part of you — the part that’s scared of no-one — takes over. “Or what?” You pout, cocking your head to the side. “Are you gonna run back to Amanda and tell her how mean I’ve been to you?” 

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” he spits, grabbing you by the collar, shoving you until the back of your thighs press up against the desk.

Your retort comes out just before he lowers his mouth to yours. Just before he wedges his thick hand between your legs. “Why don’t you make me?”

[cocoscurios]

The Hour, the Spot, the Look, the Words Chapter Commentary

Chapter Nineteen: To Be or Not To Be

Elizabeth had settled quickly into life at Pemberley. The place already seemed so much like home that it was difficult to believe that she had not lived there for years, yet it had only been four weeks since the Darcys had married. She hoped her presence had not been too much of a disruption for her new family; or, at least, not an unpleasant one. I sometimes come across the opinion that Elizabeth would really miss Longbourn and her family life there. To those people, I point to Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and if they need the Cliff's Notes, the last paragraph of chapter sixty. 

“What did you used to do in the evenings, before I intruded?” Elizabeth asked.

Fitzwilliam was in his study, finishing some letters, and she and Georgiana sat in the drawing room, talking happily as they waited for him. I love this period when it's the three of them. <3

“You have not intruded at all,” said Georgiana earnestly. “I love having you here.”

The Darcys had a deeply-rooted strain of sincerity about them that Elizabeth’s style of humor had only just started to chip away at. Darcy gives it away at Netherfield (obviously, though, his ribald side showed there too). 

“Still, I hope I have not shown up in your house and changed the place entirely. I should like to know all of your Darcy traditions, so that I might fit in. If it were just you and Fitzwilliam, as it was for so long, how would the two of you have amused yourselves?”

“We have not altered very much, Elizabeth. We always had quiet evenings. The only real difference is that Fitzwilliam has not read aloud since I returned to Pemberley.”

This pastime was news to Elizabeth.

“He has never read to me!" she said, a little indignantly. “I will need to have words with him."

“Oh, it is most entertaining!" said Georgiana. "He acts out all of the parts.” Inspired by a former teacher of mine, an otherwise serious and quiet man, who became an Oscar winner when reading to us before lunch.

Elizabeth smiled at this image, and at Georgiana’s enthusiasm.

“Fitzwilliam,” she said accusingly, when he walked in a few minutes later, “I have been informed that you have a great genius for reading aloud, and yet you have never done so for me. Georgiana says that I should scold you.”

Elizabeth winked at her before she could color too deeply.

“I apologize for my negligence,” Fitzwilliam said smilingly.

“I will only forgive you if you read to us now.”

He gave a bow of mock solemnity and picked up a volume of sonnets.

“Oh, no, Fitzwilliam,” said Georgiana, and unless Elizabeth was mistaken, there was a note of mischief in her voice, “we have not yet finished Hamlet.” Georgiana coming out of her shell by mimicking Elizabeth is one of my favorite headcanons. 

“It has been many months since we left off.”

“All the more reason to continue with it now.”

"But Elizabeth was not with us when we started."

“Is it a special favorite?” Elizabeth asked.

“Fitzwilliam does love a soliloquy,” said Georgiana, very innocently, but there was a wide smile spreading across her face, “and he performs Hamlet's particularly well. I do not know why he intends to deny us this evening.” Darcy as Shakespeare Fanboy is headcanon that I dedicated to Rhi way back when. <3

Fitzwilliam had gone a little pink.

“Yes, why do you intend to deny us, Fitzwilliam?” teased Elizabeth. “I should like to see if you are fit for the stage. Georgiana tells me that you play all of the characters.”

He raised an eyebrow at his sister.

“You do!” Georgiana insisted. She turned to Elizabeth. "He will not want to start in the middle. He is finical that way." Calling myself out here. 

“I do not know when you became so insolent,” he said, looking at Georgiana with an odd expression on his face. There was a drop of consternation in it, but was otherwise entirely amusement. 

“It will have been my doing, I am afraid,” said Elizabeth. “My mother always said I was the worst behaved of all her children. I am a bad influence.”  This exchange is one of those instances of me thinking up random lines of dialogue when I should have been sleeping, then getting up and writing them down for future use. I remember being super irritated about it on this occasion.  Fitzwilliam looked both diverted and hesitant.

“I think we had better hear the sonnets,” said Elizabeth, coming to his rescue. “If Hamlet is to be performed, I should like to see it from the beginning.”

“Very well,” agreed Georgiana, in a tone of voice very unlike her own. “The sonnets will do.”

“Perhaps,” said Fitzwilliam, trying to look sternly at his sister but unable to keep his mouth from twitching, "I will send you to live with the earl for a while, where you will hear nothing more interesting than Fordyce’s Sermons.”

Georgiana giggled, perhaps a little nervously. She was beginning to look a bit faint from the effects of her own boldness.

***

“You do read very well,” said Elizabeth slyly, after Georgiana had gone to bed. “I wonder why I did not know this before now.”

“As I recall, we were otherwise engaged most evenings.” Wink, wink.

She grinned at him. “I suppose that is true. I did not realize that your reading was such a regular entertainment. I did not mean for it to cease with my arrival at Pemberley.”

“I am sure it would have been resumed soon enough.” He smiled. “Of course, it has never been accompanied by so much teasing before."

“I am sorry if we embarrassed you.”

“No, it was good to see Georgiana so lighthearted.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “She was trying to emulate you.”

“In all of my impertinence.”

“There are worse examples to follow.”

He kissed her forehead.

“Well," said Elizabeth, picking up the volume of Hamlet that had remained untouched, "as it is just the two of us, might I be treated to a peep of your Prince of Denmark?"

He looked reluctant. “Your expectations are rather high now. It is a lot of pressure.”

“Fitzwilliam, you are aware that I am quite sickeningly fond of you, are you not?”

He smiled bashfully.

“I am sure that I will find you all that is charming and delightful."

“I thought you might like the sonnets," he said, changing the subject. "I know you are prejudiced against the efficacy of poetry in love, but--” One of my favorite exchanges in P&P. It's so good. “I did like the sonnets. You read them beautifully." She smirked up at him and pressed the volume against his chest. “I want to see this secret talent of yours. Please, Fitzwilliam? For me?” He is powerless against her and we love it.

He took the book from her with a rueful little smile.

“Thank you, dearest.”

Elizabeth settled into a chair and prepared to be entertained.

[ssweeterthanfiction]

i’ve been lopping HMHAS so excuse me for these random blurbs/prompts but

skinny (billie eillish) as an opening track is so fucking reader coded, like especially the first couple lyrics fell in love for the first time/ 21 took a life time to me at least. and the am i acting my age now? bc she probably always felt immature when she was with billy due to their gap. and you said i was your secret/ and you didn’t get to keep it… like woah…..

and blue (billie eillish) is so fucking reader and billy coded jesus. like it cuts so deep… and i just think it’s like her being sad/remorseful. it’s sort of a bittersweet thing bc she’s at the point where she knows billy can’t fix his behavior rn, he doesn’t want to … at least in her eyes he doesn’t. but acknowledges he’s a product of his environment and that hurts her too. he was bound to be broken before he rlly ever had a chance. (this song literally inspired this whole blurb istg you gotta listen to it if u haven’t. like once u listen to it, you will completely understand EVERYTHING bc those lyrics are just … yeah)

imagine the band absorbing all this, bc they watched reader come onto the scene and so they naturally watched her artistically mature… and now they’re just listening to these songs they know are abt billy… like. i can see them either being too stunned to speak while others side eyeing him. billy himself gotta take all this in bc it’s just alot, the production that reader did herself to the lyrics? it makes him feel so many things at once; i’d say proud, in awe but also his heart feels like it’s being crushed. - 🫧

OKOK A LOTTT TO UNPACK HERE

SKINNY- YES 100% THIS IS LITERALLY READER.

so not only do the lyrics that you pointed out relate to her bc she feels immature because of their age gap, BUT the lyric “people say i look happy, just because i got skinny, but the old me is the real me and i think she’s pretty” IS SO READER CODED TOO. like it is implied that she constantly is comparing herself to the girls around the band, and it doesn’t help that billy is all “you should be lucky im with you, i could have my pick of whatever girl i want.” so (this will be shown in the fic too) we see reader go from this priscilla presley inspired look/attitude to more of a 70s rockstar girlfriend look/attitude (drug/alcohol addicted).

the band sees this shift in behavior too, and they fucking HATEEE billy for this. like he took one of the sweetest girls and fucking DESTROYED HER. which goes perfectly into blue

BLUE- RHIS JS LITERALLY BILLY AND READER I CANT ANDJDKEKKSNSME

like LIKE ITS LITERALLY THEM THERES NO BETTER WAY TO PUT IT!!!

like the lyrics “don’t hate you, but we can’t save you” IS SO HER TO BILLY. AND THEN “you were born reaching for your mother’s hands, victim of your father’s plans, to rule the world” IS SO BILLY CODED LIKE UGHHHHHHHH

okay so i’m spoiling my own fic but i don’t CARE

when the band listens to the album for the first time, they’re all in the studio late at night, reader dropped the announcement at 12am over a late night talk show and the next morning the record was up on store shelves, but since the band is, the band, teddy gives them the record before it even hits the shelves.

ANYWAYS without giving away TOO MUCH

the band is like high key vibing to tracks like “love is embarrassing”, “bejeweled”, “feather”, “read your mind”, and “out of the woods”

they GLARE at billy when they hear tracks like

“vampire”, “making the bed”, “logical”, “the grudge” obviously “SKINNY” and “BLUE” ESPECIALLY BLUE LIKE I FEEL LIKE IT WOULD JUST BE SILENCE AS THE SONG PLAYS AND THEY WOULD ALL JUST BE GIVING DEATH GLARES TO BILLY

like, they just are all staring at the record while it plays, because not only is the production amazing, HER VOICE IS SO HEALTHY AND AMAZING TOO, and her lyrics, THE LYRICS. like they would all 100% be on the verge of tears because of it.

and then a very specific song plays, and billy can’t quite put his finger on it, but the drums in the back sound like warren’s style…and the bass sounds like eddie’s…and the backing vocals sound like daisy’s…and the guitar sounds like graham’s and the keys sound like karen’s.

then he looks at the credits on the back of the vinyl…

THEN HE REALIZES THAT THE WHOLE BAND FUCKING RECORDED WITH HER.

HE EXPLODES, EDDIE NEARLY GETS IN A PHYSICAL FIGHT WITH HIM, ITS A MESS

anyways, then the deluxe version releases…and reader should’ve name dropped billy at this point BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.

deluxe tracks are “is it over now?”, “say don’t go”, “now that we don’t talk”, “i wish you would”, and “karma” SO YEA.