#forbidden longing

[ladyoftheblade8]

~A Deal With Destiny~

❤️‍🔥 Steamy Spoilers ❤️‍🔥

Chapter 7: What Dreams May Come

“How wicked you are, my sweet girl…dreaming of a monster.”

She should have denied it. Should have turned away. Should have fought the delicious, suffocating pull of him.

But she did not.

Instead, her fingers found the silken fabric of his tunic, grazing the golden skin beneath. Her touch—hesitant, uncertain, her body moving—yielding, instinctive, toward his.

He let out a low, approving growl, as though testing her, waiting for the moment she would push back against his restraint and demand more.

And with that, she could not stop herself.

Her touch grew bolder, sliding over the firm muscles of his chest, tracing the intricate lines of his body beneath the fabric.

His fingers tightened at the base of her spine, gathering a fistful of her chemise in his grasp, pulling her that much closer.

“Oh, I do wonder…” His lips faintly brushed the shell of her ear, and her body trembled with the nearness, the anticipation. “Do you crave what you fear, little one?”

Aislinn exhaled sharply, her head tipping back just slightly—enough to offer herself up to him without meaning to.

The space between them vanished.

Their lips were a breath apart when his fingers suddenly tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her head back—baring her further to him. His other hand splaying over the curve of her waist, fingers pressing firm as he pulled her taut against him. She could feel the hard lines of his body, the tension in him—a taut coil, restrained, ravenous hunger just waiting to snap.

And gods help her, she wanted to snap it.

His lips hovered just above her throat, so close she could feel the warmth radiating from them, the unbearable temptation of them. Then, he dipped his head—his nose trailing along the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent.

“Jasmine,” he purred, the words pressed into her skin, his voice thick, sinful. “Gods, you smell as pure as a spring day…it’s intoxicating.”

📖 Join the fantasy now on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62006650/chapters/161317780

Sweet dreams dearies 💗

🔥LadyoftheBlade8🔥

[swindlefingrs]

Not to be shitty on main but I like the idea of Saga and Halsin making eyes at each other for a while after Gale rains on the polycule parade

Like its not a switch that gets flipped off. The feelings are there, but they have to actively choose to not fuck around with each other, to varying degrees of success, for the rest of the campaign

[kingratclown]

The exhilaration and intimacy of being forced into unconsciousness. Your eyelids fluttering. Your vision going dark. You struggle and flail but with every second your muscles grow weaker. The final moments before being taken by the darkness are spent with arms clutching you tightly, hot breath on your neck and against your ear.

His words echo in your mind like a siren in a cement tunnel.

"You will have no choice but to run when you wake."

[asooffa]

dump pt. 6 ft some twt requests

[huang-er-jiejie]

i. i just realised something about the kiss.

the way when aziraphale puts both of his hands on crowley's back, you can see them kinda shift so aziraphale isn't leaning. he held onto crowley for stability, and leaned in. pushed closer to him. he leaned forward. anyone ever says he didn't want the kiss im going to hunt you down because HE HELD CLOSE!!! HE KISSED BACK!!!!

EDIT: also im like WELL aware he kissed back i was even when i first watched it like its not a big revelation, its just that SOME people☠️ on TIKTOK☠️ KEEP SAYING HE WAS DISGUSTED BY THE KISS???? like i swear some people are watching a different show entirely

[8-0mph]

PT 3

Bonus page.

Yes, this is a different universe than canon WK. I will never let Betty catch a break. Happens after the events of the Vampire World. The fight scene was supposed to be longer But I am not drawing all that. Theres one last world left.

At some point there will be a master-post with the lore in order.

[lifenconcepts]

hot take but. Before people were fucking about with terms and stuff, old movies had WAYY more deep platonic connections that could be mistaken for romance and stuff. Not that they had romantic or sexual tension but like.. people nowadays look at two characters glance at eachother and think ‘wow. They should fuck’ but a room of guys would stare at some guy tenderly holding another guy on tv because he had a nightmare and think ‘wow. What a very sweet moment with absolutely no other connotations other than deep respect and sincerity.’

just think that’s neat.

[jurassicshields]

Kur, Master of decay

[kaynineacademy]

”why are you looking at me like that” clearly you are not aware that every time you speak my heart tries to crawl straight out of my chest

[ladyoftheblade8]

~ A Deal With Destiny~

✨️Available Now on Ao3✨️

🌹Chapter 6: Two Roads Diverged🌹

Summary:

The village beckons, offering Aislinn a fleeting taste of normalcy—a world untouched by magic, quests, and the burden of fate. Among bustling market stalls and quiet indulgences, she allows herself a rare moment of peace, the weight of the road momentarily lifted. But even in the heart of this simple world, her thoughts stray to the enigmatic man who lingers at the edges of her mind—ever infuriating, ever intoxicating. Unbeknownst to her, Rumplestiltskin wages a private war in the shadows, torn between desire and self-loathing, between the monster he believes himself to be and the man he wishes he could become. As he watches her from afar, he makes a choice—one that speaks of a devotion he dares not voice. Two souls stand at a crossroads, unknowingly drawing closer. And though neither speaks the words aloud, the truth is inescapable: he is already hers.

Preview:

Sinking into the bath, Aislinn sighed deeply, the heat enveloping her like a lover’s embrace. She leaned back against the cool rim, her eyes fluttering shut as the tension in her limbs melted away. The water lapped gently at her skin, soothing muscles she hadn’t realized were aching.

...She lingered, trailing her fingers over the surface of the water as her thoughts wandered. Rumplestiltskin’s image rose unbidden—his amber eyes, sharp yet strangely vulnerable, his crooked smile teasing and infuriating in equal measure. She thought of his voice, rich and low, each word laced with a melodic lilt that seemed to settle beneath her skin. And his hands—expressive, fluid, as if each movement were part of an elaborate dance.

Her lips curved faintly as she imagined him now, leaning casually against the doorframe, some playful quip ready on his lips. But then her thoughts took a darker, more seductive turn. She imagined his touch—fingers brushing her cheek, trailing her jaw, tilting her face toward his. The phantom sensation left her breathless, heat blooming in her chest and spreading down her neck. She sank lower into the water, as though it might shield her from the storm of feelings she had tried so hard to ignore.

“Foolish,” she murmured, shaking her head. And yet, her mind refused to let him go. She thought of the stories she had devoured in secret—dark heroes and brooding villains who stole kisses in the shadows, their passions as dangerous as they were irresistible. Her heart raced at the thought. If the heroines in those tales had felt even half of what she was feeling now, how could they have resisted?

Her hand drifted to her lips, brushing them absently. She imagined his mouth on hers—gentle at first, then fierce and claiming, stealing the breath from her lungs. A shiver coursed through her, and she forced herself to laugh softly, shaking her head. “What could he possibly see in me?” she whispered to herself. “A man who has lived lifetimes, seen wonders I can only dream of…”

📖Read Now on Ao3:

The best things come to those who wait...

❤️‍🔥LadyoftheBlade8❤️‍🔥

[kiss4tell]

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, simon riley.

summary: a princess raised in a world of rules and expectations finds herself entangled with a thief who should mean nothing to her—but as stolen glances turn into stolen kisses, she realizes she’s never wanted anything more. cw: forbidden romance, makeout scene, implied danger, secret meetings, longing, angst. thief!simon, princess!user. wc: 1.1k note: thief!simon and knight!johnny were so close in the poll that i might just make a johnny one too.

The first time you meet him, you don’t know his name.

You don’t know that he’s a thief, that he’s dangerous, that he should be nowhere near the castle walls. All you know is the rough press of a gloved hand over your mouth, the sharp scent of leather and damp stone, the solid weight of a body pinning you into the shadows.

Moonlight filters through the high-arched windows of your chambers, casting silver ribbons across the polished marble floor. The distant flicker of torches in the hallway stretches long shadows beneath the ornate wooden doors, their golden inlays glowing faintly in the dim light. The guards—your father’s men—are just beyond that threshold. Close enough that if you made a sound, they would hear you.

Your heartbeat is a war drum, frantic and unforgiving. Your breathing is shallow beneath the suffocating press of his body. He’s solid, warm despite the night’s chill, and when he leans in, you feel the rasp of his voice against the shell of your ear.

“Not a sound, princess.”

He says it like he’s amused. Like this is nothing to him. A game.

The footsteps in the corridor pause, and your body tenses. If they open the door, they will see him. You will be caught in his arms. You’ll be questioned, accused—punished. The weight of expectation, of propriety, presses on you heavier than the man holding you captive.

And then, finally, the footsteps fade. The torches continue down the hall, leaving your room untouched.

His hand drops from your mouth, but before you can take in a proper breath, you’re spun around, your back hitting the cold stone wall. He cages you in, arms braced on either side of your head, and the moonlight finally reveals his face.

A mask of shadows and sharp angles.

A scar curves across his cheek, partially hidden by the fall of his hood. His eyes are dark, unreadable, gleaming with something sharp. There’s a smirk on his lips, a quiet kind of arrogance that makes your stomach twist with something you refuse to name.

“Pretty thing,” he murmurs, his voice like rough-cut velvet. “Bet you’ve never had a man in your chambers like this before.”

Your breath stutters between your lips, a mix of outrage and something else.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

His grin deepens, wicked and knowing. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, and his next words send a shiver down your spine.

“No one you should be thinking about, love.”

And then, just like that—he’s gone.

Vanished into the night like a ghost.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The next morning, you find a ring on your windowsill.

It’s nothing extravagant—just a simple silver band, slightly tarnished, a little worn. It’s far too plain to belong to the royal treasury, too rough for a nobleman’s taste. And yet, it sits there, glinting in the soft morning light as if waiting for you to claim it.

You don’t touch it. You shouldn’t touch it.

But that night, when you step into the royal gardens for some air, he’s waiting.

The air is thick with the scent of roses and damp earth, the evening breeze whispering through the hedgerows. The stone paths are still warm from the day’s sun, the ivy-covered trellises casting intricate shadows across the courtyard. He stands just beyond the torchlight, shrouded in darkness, leaning casually against an old stone pillar.

“You don’t like my gift?”

His voice is low, teasing, curling around you like smoke.

You turn, pulse kicking up as you spot the gleam of his eyes beneath the hood. His clothes are dark, his posture easy, as if he has every right to be here. As if he isn’t a common thief trespassing on royal grounds.

“You stole it.”

He chuckles, a rich, quiet sound. “Everything in that castle is stolen, princess. I just take from those who won’t miss it.”

Your breath catches at his audacity.

“Why are you here?”

He steps closer, and you don’t back away. His gloved fingers lift, tracing the delicate embroidery of your sleeve, the royal blues and golds woven into the fabric. His touch is light, barely there.

“Because you fascinate me,” he says simply. “You’re all locked away in your golden cage, waiting for some prince who’ll never deserve you.”

Heat flares in your cheeks.

“And you think you deserve me?”His lips curve into a smirk, head tilting slightly. He studies you for a long moment before murmuring, “No. But I think you wish I did.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

It becomes a game after that.

A reckless, dangerous, forbidden game.

He finds you in the places no one else does. The hidden alcoves of the library. The abandoned wings of the castle. The quiet halls before dawn, when the world is still asleep.

At first, it’s just words. A smirk. A tease. A stolen touch that lingers too long.

But then, one night, when he backs you against a cold stone wall and murmurs, “Tell me to stop”—and you don’t—things change.

He kisses you.

It’s nothing like the chaste, practiced pecks you’ve received from noble suitors. No, this is something else entirely.

His lips are firm, insistent, and when his teeth graze your lower lip, a shiver runs through you so violently you have to grip his cloak just to stay standing. His hands are everywhere—brushing your jaw, your waist, the curve of your hip. When he presses closer, trapping you against the wall, you feel the hard lines of his body, the tension coiled beneath his skin.

It’s dangerous. It’s intoxicating. It’s wrong.

And yet, when he pulls away, your hands chase after him, fingers curling into his shirt as if begging him to stay.

He exhales a quiet laugh against your cheek, nuzzling the spot just below your ear.

“You’re trouble, princess.”

And the worst part?You think you like it.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Time slips through your fingers like sand. Seasons change, and so do you.

You learn his name. You learn the stories behind his scars. You learn the feel of his hands on your skin, the weight of his mouth against yours in the darkness of your chambers, in the hidden corners of the castle where no one dares to look.

The kisses grow deeper. The touches hungrier. He tastes like danger, like freedom, like a life you can never have.

And then, one night, when he pulls you into his arms and murmurs, “Say the word, and I’ll take you with me”—

You don’t know how to answer.

Because running means leaving everything behind.

And staying means losing him forever.

So instead of speaking, you kiss him like it’s the last time.

Because maybe it is.

[katabay]

SUBTEXT

so I've focused in on Perceval and Bors before, and I've done Perceval and Gender (for more on this specifically, see: Clothes Make The Man: Parzival Dressed and Undressed, Michael D. Amey) and did a whole comic that leaned into some subtext™ on temptation, but actually let's throw out the subtext! let's bring Augustine into this!!

Perceval, de Troyes (trans. Burton Raffel)

introduction to Confessions, Augustine (trans. Sarah Ruden)

so for perceval a knight is both the gender he wants to perform but also something that is expressly compared to god, and if god is a lover that seduces. well. does this not also apply to knights as well?

Homosexuality in the Renaissance: Behavior, Identity, and Artistic Expression, James M. Saslow

and while galahad might be the obvious choice, I think perceval's relationship with bors during the grail quest narrative is more interesting. it's not god that transforms perceval, it's the sight of knights for the first time. something in here specifically is incredibly intriguing to me, but there's a different text I need to finish reading to fully form some thoughts on it.

le Morte d’Arthur

and finally! tentatively. I think I might slowly start turning this idea I had a couple years back into a fully formed comic. we'll see! I had most of it blocked out, but halfway through reading augustine's confessions, I think was when perceval finally clicked for me as a character in a later narrative cycle setting. I think I might have to spend a lot of time doing some visual research first because my god I cannot consistently draw armor to save my life......back when I lived in new england, there was a museum with a wonderful medieval armor collection I could visit.....alas.........I will have to hit the books (literally, I have a collection of books on medieval armor but this is apparently the one thing I can't visualize properly in my imagination. save me, museum collections, you're my only hope)

⭐️ credits for the collage panels! (all open access or public domain, etc.)

-Saint George and the Dragon -Saint George and the Dragon (different one lmao) -Pages and Knights, Frontispiece for "The Man at Arms" -Cloisters

⭐ if you like my comics and have a couple bucks, I have a tip jar (ko-fi)!

⭐ and other places I'm at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app

[mimenoises]

Trophy room

[carlisle06art]

Hawk and Thrush

Recent commission for @/ja88045 on Twitter!

[hartlesshart]

2/14

how we got here -> Page 1 the tale continueth -> Page 3

[lazylittledragon]

about to start my yearly critrole campaign 2 rewatch so prepare for me to be absolutely insufferable