#i am physically shaken once again

[glassofpumpkinjuice]

medley 3/8/24: it's not a side effect of the cocaine, i think it must be love on acoustic guitar!!!!!!

[heliza24]

Armand and Unbreakable Cycles

So (perhaps unsurprisingly at this point) I have a TON of Armand thoughts after yesterday’s episode. Specifically I want to talk about the function of the 1790s section, and how it perfectly illuminates the cycle of maladaptive behavior that Armand is caught up in and the difference between his stated wants and his actual needs. I think the setup we saw in this episode will also be crucial to understanding how Dubai plays out, so I want to talk about that too.

I know a lot of people love the show and TVC because of Lestat, and there’s some frustration that Lestat was presented in a way that was untrue or filtered. But I really think you have to view this episode as a lens into Armand, which we in turn need in order to understand Louis. Everyone has someone similar to Lestat’s role in Armand’s life; an ex or a situationship or a former friend who takes up so much real estate in your brain because of their outsized impact  on you, who probably never thinks of you in return. We give these people a role in the story we craft of how we became who we are. That narrativizing is kind of the only way to understand yourself and survive (especially if you’re going to live forever). So I don’t doubt that there are things that Armand says that are untrue, or exaggerated, or twisted in his favor. But I do think the important part is the emotional impact his encounter with Lestat had on him, and I do think he’s being honest about those emotions.

(That being said I am of course very excited to see these events play out again in season 3 from Lestat’s POV. Don’t fuck it up AMC!!!)

The main thing that the flashback does is set up the cycle that Armand finds himself in over and over again. He consistently finds himself clinging to control in an institution he is starting to lose faith in, and is then shaken out of his complacency by a new love that seems– falsely– to rescue him.

Depending on how they adapt his very early backstory, I think we can probably assume that this pattern started in childhood for him. Marius rescued him from being forced into sex work, and seemed to offer a much better life. But in reality he was just grooming Armand. (Thanks @toriangeli for correcting a piece of my Marius lore here!)

In Paris he continues maintaining a strictly enforced life of misery for the coven long after he stops believing in it himself, and (by his telling at least) he was grateful to Lestat for having the strength to end it when he could not. It’s so clear why Armand falls for Lestat. Lestat’s refusal to live in shame, his love of the arts, his ability to exist amongst humanity (at least when he is on stage). Lestat is of the world, while Armand and the coven hide from it. 

The reason I think it is so important that we got to see this play out in Paris is the way it illuminates the sometimes tricky relationship between Louis and Armand. Once again, Armand is the head of an institution that operates on strict and oppressive rules. Once again, we can feel Armand’s enthusiasm for this system waning (and see it reflected physically in the lack of ticket sales and general shabbiness of the theatre). And once again, Armand is swept off his feet by this new vampire who refuses to join, who loves humanity, and who has a passion for art. Louis is very much of the world. He refuses to be pinned down into coven life. Armand can’t resist taking what looks like the opportunity for escape in Louis’s love. 

What I think is so fascinating about this cycle is that it allows Armand to remain passive. He never has to be the one to make the hard call to walk away from a kind of life that is no longer serving him. He just has to wait for the next gorgeous man to arrive to deliver him.  As he says to Louis, “those with the most power are often the weakest”. His status and power in the coven prevents him from changing his own life. Or at least that’s what he believes. 

Thinking about this helped me understand the dynamic of what goes down in the sewers, when Armand threatens Louis’s life. Assad says in the behind the scenes clips that Armand goes into that encounter very set on killing Louis, and I believe him.  So I rewatched it a couple of times trying to understand when, and why, Armand changes his mind. The shift occurs when they start talking about Claudia, and Armand says that her mind will break apart soon because she was made too young. Louis says “you don’t know her,” and Armand responds, “I don’t have to. I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen too much.” That admission– I’ve lived through this cycle multiple times before, it is painful, and I don’t want to do it again– is what shifts Armand from being ready to kill Louis to letting him go. 

There is of course an irony here; mentally ill and child vampires do not necessarily need to go mad. Generally they go mad at least partially because of Armand’s actions. And as we’ve already discussed, Armand going to sleep with Louis instead of killing him is really just a repeat of his actions with Lestat. He isn’t really breaking a cycle at all. But I think in that moment he believes that he is. Maybe he even believes that by being with a man who enacted great violence on Lestat, he can drown out the love and anguish he still feels about Lestat. At the very least, Louis has also loved Lestat and can therefore understand Armand’s narration of his own life in a way that not many other people can. 

Ok, so now we are caught up on the past. Let’s talk about Dubai, and how once again Armand is engaged in the exact same cycle of behavior.

The penthouse is Armand’s new coven. He maintains perfect order by controlling the physical environment and shaping Louis’s moods and memories. But just like before, this way of life is no longer serving Armand (or Louis for that matter). You can see that the spark between them has died, only rekindled as a kind of performance when they are in front of Daniel. When Armand is telling Daniel about Lestat destroying the coven, and Daniel accuses Armand of leading Lestat to the coven intentionally… he might as well be talking about himself. Armand has let Daniel into his fortress, and there is at least a part of him that wants whatever destruction Daniel is about to bring into his life.

Daniel fits Armand’s type completely. Daniel is of course more human than Lestat or Louis could ever be. He knows about telenovelas and Bollywood and all other types of art. He’s whipsmart and inquisitive and is not going to let Armand get away with passively maintaining his old order. He’s of the world in a way that Armand finds irresistible. 

I specifically found it interesting how many of the “Great Laws” Armand would be breaking by being with Daniel. Granted, Armand isn’t in the coven anymore when he meets Daniel. But I imagine old habits are hard to break, and being with Daniel would break almost all of them. Daniel is a mortal Armand has revealed his true nature to and allowed to live, Daniel has written about and exposed vampire secrets, and (if we’re looking at book canon) Daniel begs for the dark gift himself, a thing only the maitre is supposed to be able to approve. 

Assuming that a chunk of Devil’s Minion did happen in the 1970s, something interrupted that love affair, before it could settle back down into a new but still oppressive status quo. Something prompted Armand to actively break his pattern of behavior and erase Daniel’s memories. I think it’s impossible not to think about Nicki’s example here, especially after seeing the 1790s flashback. I’m going to assume that 1970s Daniel was struggling with addiction and mental health issues in a way that may have been reminiscent of Nicki. How intentional was Armand in withdrawing because he saw what vampire involvement- his involvement- did to Nicki? How much was his treatment of Daniel a reparation for past mistakes he made?

These last couple of paragraphs are speculation, really, because we won’t know exactly what Armandaniel looked like until Ep 5. But I think it was crucial that we saw this part of Armand’s story before we see San Francisco, because his actions with Daniel will make more sense if we can compare them with the love affairs of Armand’s past.

Regardless, I do think the disparity between what Armand claims to want (maintaining the status quo) vs what he actually wants (to be liberated by a romantic partner) vs what I think he actually needs (to take action himself, instead of waiting for someone to do it for him) is going to play a role in the way Dubai unfolds. I don’t know that Armand will ever get to the point where he’s actively able to break out of the cycle he’s in, because this is Interview with the Vampire, the show of fucked up gothic romances. Vampire life is a series of bad decisions! It’s a weird arrested development you never quite get out of despite living for forever! So it would make total sense if the ending of Dubai mimics the ending of the Children of Satan and the Paris Coven in an unhealthy way. But regardless, it’s gonna be a fun ride, and I can’t wait to see it.

[barelylivingscholar]

Arlecchino with a daughter tw: unhealthy family relationships, manipulation, and gore(?), suicidal thoughts, unstable/mentally ill daughter. Not for the faint of heart, heavy angst, a somewhat positive ending in the last part(?) (Do not read if uncomfortable)

An: I am backkkkk, second semester and last semester’s finals kept me busyyyyyy but I’m here again to post some stufffffff!! Not hsr related but like I also write for Genshin now, apparently… Will post a part two, I guess? “Father. When am I able to hang around with the others? I have done everything that you’ve asked for.” A young girl asked, to which “Father” responds with, “You need to focus on the task in hand. I still have many more missions for you to do before I set you free.” The girl sighed, knowing very well that she may as well never be able to be allowed to play with the other kids… For a moment, the girl had wished that she wasn’t the only one to deal with this kind of burden. The burden being, the “successor” of “Father.” She wanted to play with the other kids as well, but alas, her father does not permit her to do so. Instead, excuses are made, and the standard Fatui discipline is instilled in her mind, always have to act proper and professional, not allowed to shed a tear, or to feel strong feelings regardless of what the matters are. I hate it here. I do not wish to stay here any longer. Every day feels like I am only made to be the person that “Father” wishes me to be. I am never truly happy. I am sinking. Father was not  family. This whole thing is and always was, a lie. Do I ever get to be free? Perhaps I can set myself free. There is a way.  ̶T̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶q̶̶u̶̶e̶̶s̶̶t̶̶i̶̶o̶̶n̶ ̶i̶̶s̶, ̶a̶̶m̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶̶i̶̶l̶̶l̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶d̶̶o̶ ̶i̶̶t̶? --- After burning the corpse of their enemies, I return to the House of the Hearth, albeit bloody and face that is smudged of dirt, the smell of blood and gasoline lingers around me. With every passing servant, caretakers, and also children as well, unsettled and left shaken up at the sight of me. I stained the carpets red. I wonder if “Father” would notice as the carpet is in the same shade of the blood of her enemies…? Will she punish me and discipline me? Although words are exchanged, no form of physical harm done, I am still left isolated.  Like I am to be a monster kept away from people… I feel caged.

This time, I didn’t bother to clean up and went straight ahead to father’s office. Where I know I’ll be punished for such a careless mistake. “Father, I have returned.” I greet, looking to see her eyes staring straight at me. For once I don’t cower. I simply walk up to her and wait for her response. I have no reason to be scared, right? I don’t think I care anymore. Father’s eyes narrowed. The sight of blood that wasn’t mine, the smell of gasoline, in her eyes, I may as well be the filthiest child in the house. One that is simply, uncouth for the position of “successor.” “Why have you not followed protocol? Especially contingency 8? Have I not taught you well?” Her voice sharp, dissatisfied with my performance. It must be a surprise for her that her “successor” had become disobedient. What is she going to do to me, I wonder? Dispose of me? Or would she find someone else who is to succeed her as the “Father” of the House of the Hearth. “I… I have no other excuses.” I was unable to control my voice. It was shaky, wavering. I hate it. Father’s eyes seemed to had harden. I am interested with what is going to be the left of me once this is all over. I look forward to it. I want her to snap at me. Kill me. Foul words for a child like me, but this is what I planned. Maybe it is best that I sleep in eternal slumber instead rather than live a life full of misery. I have nothing to be grateful here. I am not thankful that I am still alive today. “…You are hereby stripped of the title “successor.” You are no longer worthy of the title. I am disappointed.” Is that it? No severe punishments? My mind raced; I was unable to comprehend why had she punished me in a way that is so… Little? Had she gone soft? I do not remember anything that made her want to punish me lightly. Don’t I deserve… More? My brows had furrowed. “Father” did not miss that. “Daughter… Are you, upset?” Her voice sounded confusing, to me. Why do you suddenly care? I don’t understand you at all. I do not feel safe at all. Are you really “family?” “…I’m fine.” I say, my voice a little tight. Unshed tears on my face, I am no fool. I do not need your love.

“You are now excused.” Never had I ever left her office so quickly after that. I had to get away…! I need to get out of here… I breathed heavily as I ran and ran… Until there is nowhere to go. The heavy snow had engulfed me. And soon… I was unconscious. I awoke to an unfamiliar place. This is not the House of the Hearth. I quickly got up, ignoring the sudden rush of blood shooting up due to how fast I went up. I ignore the throbbing pain on my forehead, I focused on my surroundings instead. Where am I? This place is… Different. I jolted as I felt a hand on my shoulder, immediately backing off and grabbing a hidden dagger in my boot. “Stay there! I will stab you!” I hissed. Glaring at the mysterious figure. They looked… Kind. I am not supposed to feel that way. There are no kind people in this world. Everyone I know will always lie to me, manipulate me for their gain. Just like “Father.” Just like them…

The stranger had knelt down and attempted to soothe me. I only responded with aggression and threats. They weren’t phased at all. “Who are you? I am no ordinary orphan! I am a murderer!” I shouted, clearly agitated. The man in a familiar coat had not reacted violently at all. I am confused. And angry. “I am Pantalone. “Regrator” from the Fatui. I assume you are one of the Knave’s lost children…” My eyes widened at the statement. He is no ordinary man… I should’ve known, I gritted my teeth and gripped my dagger tight. “I am not her orphan! I am no longer a part of that… I could care less if you are a part of the Fatui, I will die gladly in vain if I have to fight for my freedom!” I hissed. The man is amused. I can tell by the look in his eyes. “I have a better proposal for you, child.” “Regrator” inquired. I had not chosen to back down even at the prospect of an offer. “What makes you think I will take it?” I replied, gripping the dagger tight. “I will not surrender you to the Knave. Rather, I’ll take you in as my disciple.”

Disciple? Is this man sick in the head? Why would I agree to that? It seems “Regrator” had heard my thoughts, and so, he added, “Although, it is up to you if you would rather be surrendered back to the Knave… Or join me and I’ll give you a much better purpose, in life… Not that you have any choice on the matter if you decline my offer…” I had no sense of purpose to live for. I am merely an empty shell of what I was once. I have nothing to achieve… In the end, I don't have what it takes to truly end my life. So I will follow my new superior. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be easily obedient. I am rather mad.” And it was the start of something anew…  I had become, “Regrator’s disciple.” I wonder how “Knave” will react to such arrangements… An: Part two will include Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet. There will be other characters who will be included as well but, part one's story was set before Lyney became the sucessor of the House of the Hearth. I am thinking of interesting ideas to write for this story and some alternate routes as well... We'll see once I whip up part two.

[elen-tari2]

My Kastle Scene Wishlist

I’m not sure what Kastle content we might get in Daredevil Born Again, but there is also talk that they might make a new Punisher show. What are some scenes/parallels that you would like to see between Frank and Karen? Here’s a few of my musings

Reversed Hospital Scene! I would like to see Frank momentarily panic over Karen getting hurt and have a turn holding her hand in a hospital bed. I feel like we deserve this scene so bad. (Caveat: Frank CANNOT be the reason Karen got injured, even if it’s just she got shot in the arm or has a concussion; Karen is in dangerous situations regardless of Frank being near her or not and he needs a wake up call for that). Bonus points for the total opposite of telling her to walk way—this time HE GETS IN THE HOSPITAL BED and puts his arms around her and just holds her and Karen gets to feel completely safe for a few minutes. Just go all out with the hurt/comfort trope for these two. Anyway, I have a whole WIP fic devoted to this, so honestly it has become my top wish to see some parallels drawn with another hospital scene.

Karen gets to help in a fight and shoots someone. I feel like since they never got to have the Wesley conversation, a way to show-not-tell would be for Karen to kill a bad guy and then Frank come check on her to be like, ‘hey are you okay?’and she’d be like, ‘yeah, I am.’ She’d be a bit shaken up but grimly holding it together because it’s not her first time killing someone. This would also work in contrast to the scene where Amy shoots the guy in the hall and then Frank infamously takes the gun from her and takes the responsibility of his death away from her. Sorry to make Karen suffer because I know she’ll feel bad about it, but I’d be okay with seeing her character go a little bit darker to save someone’s life. She’s been carrying that gun since DDs2, she deserves to take out a baddie on her own and it’d be a great segue into rehashing some of her past that Frank NEEDS to know about

Frank meets Paxton Page. Will the show make time for this? Probably not. But damn do I want to know what Frank would say if he knew that Karen’s dad cut off his only daughter, when Frank would do anything—anything—to spend one minute with Lisa again. I’d love to see Frank go to Fagan Corners with Karen to put flowers on her mom and brother’s graves. We spent three seasons of Frank being able to open up around Karen and talk about his family with her. Meanwhile she has never once said anything about the losses she’s suffered. Frank needs to know and I don’t want it all jammed into one big backstory dump where she tells him she killed her brother and Wesley in the same conversation. Another option would be for Frank to accidentally visit Karen on the anniversary of her mom/Kevin’s death and she is having a breakdown. If we can’t get into any of Karen’s past, have Frank find out Karen has his burner phone saved in her contacts listed as Home. I’ve seen that idea in several different fics and it just needs to be canon. They are Home to each other.

A scene where Frank holds Karen all night and they don’t have sex, but it’s profound. (Think like Spike holding Buffy). If they are nervous about comics fans being mad about Frank Castle finding love again, give us some physical intimacy and closeness where you know they mean everything to each other but can’t cross the line and make things real. Fan fic writers will know we won and then fill in the rest for those cowards.

If they’re willing to make Kastle real, give us a goddamn kiss. Actually, just let them have sex, because Karen Page has been forced to stay chaste for YEARS and she deserves to get laid. And Jon Bernthal seems to be more than comfortable doing sex scenes soooo please just make it the most beautiful thing ever filmed because they are so in love with each other. It has to be noticeably different in tone from the scene with Beth. And Karen cannot get shot the next day, don’t even start with any of that bull$hit trauma for Frank.

Kastle pillow talk scene. Since it’s Disney Marvel now, I don’t know how much we can hope for with a sex scene. So the pillow talk scene that follows had better be some life-altering confessions of love and cuddles. Do not even think about him sneaking out before she wakes up like he almost did with Beth. Karen deserves something good to happen to her for once, let her have a perfect night and a gentle, soft morning after. She deserves it even if Frank isn’t sure if he does.

Karen Page and Dinah Madani Friendship. I’m rewatching The Punisher s2 and one thing that pissed me off was the scenes of fake bonding between Dinah and Krista Dumont, drinking wine together and discussing men (Frank and Billy, who else). So. To make up for that, we need some genuine female friendships, like Karen and Dinah going to a shooting range together or gym or going out to a nice bar for girls night. Even if Frank has been keeping his distance, these ladies have struck up a friendship and Karen has someone to hang out with besides her lawyer coworkers.

Karen gets to meet Micro/The Lieberman family AND Curtis. David knows how Frank really feels about Karen. Curtis needs to find out Frank DOES still have something good holding him in this world. And Karen should meet Frank’s friends.

Okay those are some of the scenes I want to see for Frank and Karen! If someone could please get this list to the Punisher writers for the future of the show, it’s actually very important that we get some of this or I’m gonna have to come write for the show myself. 🙈

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 6

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Here we are on book 2!

I took a couple days off because my body was perishing (read: my uterus was being a little bitch) but I am back :D

Today's tea is an apple crumble with milk and sugar and my little reading buddy (Charlie) has returned for this chapter Extra Needy and sporting his new necktie.

Let's get into this long chapter:

And we start three years later! I was wondering if there was going to be a time jump and there is! :) p9

Why is everyone so thirsty in this world RE: Ning YingYing p10

Oh dang. I really want to know what's making people melt into skeletons p13

Shen Qingqiu is such a vibe" I know I am physically useless, but i'm also a walking encyclopedia so I bring that to the party" p14 honestly same

So many corpses in the water!! p18

Oh shit, what the heck Wu Chen's legs? p22

RE: Wu Chen I did lol at "Great Master, you call this a bit uncomfortable?!" p 22

this totally feels more like a curse than a standard plague p24

why am I laughing so hard at "fuck me, with this speed, they wouldn't lose to a runner doing the 100-metre hurdles! 'Old Lady'? Yeah right! I must be blind!"p26

oooo! Gongyi Xiao is back! p28

Baby is back too!! Luo Binghe! pp29-31

omg and now there is a height difference! Shen qinqgiu being the smol one p32

Re: on the subject of thinking it was a curse like 15 pages ago, it is not a curse. I don't know why I thought it would be literally anything other than demons LOL this is the plot of the entire fictional universe of this book p37

Luo Binghe still only has eyes for Shen Qingqiu- even after being tossed into hell p38

I truly love the inner monologue of Shen Qingqiu's thoughts vs what people just kind of assume he's feeling. SQQ: Luo Binghe has brainwashed these disciples, he is definitely coming for me, I am fucked. Everyone else: this poor man misses his student so much, he is so hurt that Luo Binghe didn't go back to him.

LOL at Luo Binghe's hatefire at seeing SQQ and Gongyi Xiao bonding together p42

I can't XD SQQ: I have a huge announcement guys, Luo Binghe is back!!!! Everyone else: who tf is that? RIP p44

no shit that demonic activity increasing in frequency is 100% indeed a bad omen. p47

I'm crying SQQ thinks Luo BInghe is about to kill him p48

not the magpie bridge reference p50

This man is just crushing his windpipe for funsies -> why do I feel like this is their dynamic? p50

SQQ is actually an idiot. This fool is continuously operating under the assumption that nothing in the story has changed and the original story is guaranteed. If he heard these words and responded appropriately he'd probably be fine RE: "Then why did you tell me not to put too much weight on race and that no one is intolerable to the heavens" p55

Goddamn is Luo Binghe just going to keep beating the shit out of SQQ?? pp57-59

He really made him drink his blood (side note: when this is all said and done, I need to read some vampire aus) What even is that blood going to do to him?? (do not actually tell me, I assume I will find out soonish) p59

I am once again here to talk about how utterly Fucked SQQ is. He still has 0 idea that Luo Binghe has absolutely claimed him p65

Oh dang. Still, even after all this, SQQ has not shaken his original fate of being hated p69

Bro should have let Qi Qingyi finish that sentence. Re: out of his mind with grief" also probably would have changed some things (even if he was embarrassed as hell) p71

omg so much happening in this scene rn AND then Shen Qingqiu's ex shows up out of no where?!?!?!?!??!!? p73

this man truly cannot catch a break p75

holy shit not even his ex- his wife??????? p75

oop, we have SQQ backstory reveal p77

But also with this reveal: it's a little weird for her though. Like her family takes in this kid from the street, makes him a servant. He continues to serve them, his "family" starts to view him a sibling, AND THEN they get betrothed (not married). Like what. This is wild poor guy- weird because sibling dynamics, also he was their servant. I think she is the weird one honestly. p77

okay, well, he did kill her brother LOL p78

the water prison does not sound good. p81

he really wants to try and last a month there??? best of luck buddy, he cant even handle riding in a carriage without a snack p85

Bonus picture with no notes!

I'm actually so excited for the water prison- it sounds vile, but I need to know how he get's out/how his relationship with Luo Binghe progresses.

[petrichor-idyllic]

Heyy I would like to make a Minho x fem reader request but it contains slight SA and if you aren't comfortable writing that, it's okay :). So one night the reader isn't able to sleep so she decides to take a walk around the Glade but a boy decided to attack her and threaten her with a kn¡fe to do stuff with him but she manages to break out of his hold and hit him so he can faint (Minho's fighting lessons came handy here ;) ). But she is in shock of what happened and got cut on the hand at the progress so she just goes to Minho's hut to help her (Kind of "I didn't know where else to go" trope) and he takes care of her but also makes sure to banish the piece of shit that tried something on her. Thank you sm <3333333

Damn I'm actually getting requests this is kinda mad lol. I'm so happy that y'all are like my work :))

Also, sorry, this one isn't as long because normally I write multiple scenes in one, but this is really just one long scene.

SAFE PLACE

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above, but I am going to try to not describe the assault very much so there is nothing explicitly violent. This takes place after the direct aftermath of the attempt. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Themes of sexual assault and references to blood. Nothing explicit. Inappropriate language.

It was meant to be a simple night. You'd always been restless and sleep never came easy to you. It was kind of common knowledge that you're an insomniac, so when you decided to go on a late-night walk earlier, you never expected to end up on Minho's doorstep, blood dripping from your palm, physically shaken.

Another Glader, a Builder called Darren, had come onto you a couple of times, so when he'd tried tonight, you thought nothing of it. That was until there was a knife pressed to your throat.

It's almost a blur. You got away- there's no way you weren't going to put up a fight. A swift knee to the groin, grabbing the knife and headbutting him square in the nose was more than enough damage to sprint away.

Though, in your desperation, you'd grabbed the blade of the knife, causing a deep gnash to spread across the delicate skin of your hands.

You knock again. You know Minho has to be up early in the morning- he has to be up early every morning. Being the Keeper of the Runners is a demanding and hard job to do, and under normal circumstances, you respect this.

But not tonight. Minho is your best friend. He was the one of only boys that treated you like a normal person when you first arrived. Sure, he still made some flirty passes, but whilst the other boys stared and stuttered around you, Minho was smooth and joking. And with Newt and Alby always being caught up in something, you spend most of your evenings with the Runner.

And you trust him.

And you're desperate.

You knock again. "Minho!" A pit forms in your stomach. Darren could easily still be around here, recovering in time to attack again.

"Jesus, you wanna see me that bad?" Minho's playful tone reaches you through the poorly constructed door, but his face pales once he sees you.

Tears threaten to roll down your face as you tremble in front of him, cupping your injured hand in an attempt to nurse it and ease the sharp sting.

"Shuck, what happened?" Minho steps forward and reaches out to you, but you immediately flinch away from his touch.

"Hey, it's me," he pulls his himself back, "you're safe with me, yanno that."

"I didn't know where else to go," you confess, and he visibly softens, his tough guy facade crumbling under your teary eyes. "Can- can I just come in? Please?" You sniff, trying to stay reasonably stable.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he steps aside, and you brush past, hearing the click of the door behind him.

You've never actually been in his hut before. It's surprisingly nice- homely even. It's simple and clean, only a couple of maps scattered around the room to show that Minho actually lives here.

"Sit down," he gestures towards the bed and you obey, sitting on the edge whilst blood starts to pool in your hand. He rumages through a drawer, pulling out what looks like a make-shift first-aid kit. "I'm no Med-jack, but you can't be bleedin' everywhere."

You attempt to laugh at his poor joke. Concern is written on his face. He's never seen you like this. You're always capable and competitive, always bringing fire to your work and getting shit done.

He sits next you, not close but not too far as he holds his hand out, wanting you to show your injury to him. After a second, you do so.

You hiss slightly as the antibacterial wipes contact the wound, earning a string of mumbled sorrys from your friend. The cut is deep and angry, making you cringe as you look at the state of your own hand.

Minho is incredibly delicate. Something bad has happened, and he can tell- hurting you further is definitely something he doesn't want to do.

He cautiously puts glue strips against your palm. Like he said, Minho is no medical expert, but he's used to getting scraps and scratches out in the Maze, so he is well prepared. Though he's unsure if this will actually stay in place. It looks like it'll need stitches, but you look in no state to be asking Med-jacks for help.

As he cautiously starts to wrap a bandage around your hand, he finally speaks.

"What happened?" His eyes flicker up to meet yours. You'd calmed down a bit now; the feelings of panic having faded into a numbness. Silence settles for a second and he knows better than to push you.

You take a shakey but deep breath. "I couldn't sleep, so I went on a walk- a-and this Builder, Darren, he came up to me," you pause, processing everything like you're starting to understand it yourself, "and he started hitting on me. It was nothing new and I told him I wasn't interested, and I don't really remember what happened next, but..."

"But, what (Y/N)?" It's rare that Minho uses your name. He's nervous himself and rage he's never experienced before has started to bubble in his stomach.

"I don't even know what happened next, I just remember being pinned to a tree with a knife pressed against my throat. He was saying all this shit and told me to be quiet and tried to undo my belt and-"

Minho's knuckles go white as they fall to his sides, fury seeping through his veins. He's in the right mind to go and find this guy right now- but he knows he'll be the one that gets banished for what he'll do to him.

"-and I kneed him in the balls and ran off, I cut my hand escaping." Minho stares at the ground, his gaze fixed on some invisible spot.

After a few seconds pass, you grow concerned, "Minho?"

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

Minho isn't exactly known for being the most level-headed shank around. He's picked a lot of fights in his time and is no stranger to a night in the Slammer. But this? This is different. He looks like he might actually stand by his words.

"You can't do that, man-"

He's on his feet, walking towards the door before you can stop him. "Minho!" You scramble up too, blocking him as he gets to the door. "The shuck are you doing?"

"I've gotta tell Ably, slintheads can't be getting away with this klunk!"

"Alby will be asleep."

"I don't care," he goes to move past you, but you grab his wrist.

"Please, can't this just wait 'till the morning?" You sigh, "I don't wanna think about it right now. Please."

It's his turn to sigh. He doesn't want to make things any worse tonight than they already are. "Okay. Fine. But I'm getting his ass banished- he hurt another Glader. He hurt you- he tried to do worse. I'm not letting that slide."

Minho is murderous. He's protective and angry; something you expected but not to this extent. He's literally going to get Darren killed. Not just get him killed- but make sure of it.

He's right, though. That's the penalty for hurting another Glader. And if everyone else can respect Alby's rules, why can't this Builder?

"I have to tell Alby." He's more definite this time, and you give him a soft nod.

"I know," you fall into another round of quiet and he's heart-broken seeing you like this.

"Can I, uh, can I hug you?" He doesn't want to cause you anymore discomfort, so asking for permission is key. You nod.

He's quick to wrap his muscular arm around you, something you accept easily, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

His comfort and the emotions catching up to you finally cause you to break. A sob shakes you and Minho's grip tightens as you cling to his shirt.

"Hey," he rubs circles on your back, "hey, it's okay."

You can't speak, and you both stand there for a while. His warmth is swallowing, and you've never felt safer. Minho isn't going to let anything bad happen to you.

You're safe with him.

You look you, sniffing, feeling slightly guilty when you see his tear-stained shirt. "Can I stay here? With you? For the night?"

He blinks at you. He was too blinded by his own anger to consider what he was going to do with you. Obviously, you're not going to feel safe going back out there.

"Yeah, yeah, 'course." He steps away, looking around his room, trying to work out the best way to go about this. "I'll uh, I can sleep on the floor and you can take my bed."

"You don't have to do that-"

"Dude," he sends you a sympathetic look, "you've been through a shuckin' lot tonight. I'll take the floor."

You give him a sad smile, choosing to nod in agreement instead of using your words.

Minho stole a pillow and a blanket and you both settled into your sleeping arrangements, but it's clear neither of you are getting any sleep.

Minho's bed smells like him. It's strangely comforting, and it's helping relax you. But that doesn't stop you from tossing and turning. After what must have been an hour, you give up.

"Minho, you awake?"

"Yeah," his voice is groggy and rough, tiredness taking its spot in his mind.

You turn to face him, opening the blankets. "Get in."

He sits up on his hands, using them to level him up. "What? I don't want to-"

"Just get in. Please."

Minho hesitates, but does as you say. Standing up, he slips under the covers with you. Normally, you'd be too embarrassed or anxious to even dare to be so bold, but you need comfort.

Once he's lay down, he opens his mouth to speak but you shuffle closer to him, once again hiding your face in his chest and flopping your arm over him. Minho stills for a second, deciding to keep up the wordless interaction and wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer.

Here is another request for Minho. I love writing for this man and it's a nice change to write something softer, even if it is under some horrendous circumstances. I didn't want to write anything explicit because I think that's unnecessary, but I hope that works here.

"It's gonna be okay, (Y/N)," he mumbles as he soothingly strokes you hair, "I'm gonna look after ya- you're safe here."

Anyway, as always, let me know what you think. Some more light-hearted stuff is on the way soon.

[darkstrawberrytimetravel]

Why don't you just give in?Pt.4

Fem reader

Pt.3

You

I grab my drink and follow the girls to a nearby table, we’re seated midway between the bar and the back of the pub. I know the girls are watching the lads at the pool table, I can’t help myself either as I look up and watch as Simon loses his current round against Gaz. His movements around the table are sleek, like a panther, and practised as he lines up his next shot. His muscles flexing under his jacket, the hem of his jacket and shirt riding up just enough for my eyes to trail over his lower back. He’s trying, but he’s never been great at scoring, he’s just in it for the game. 

Images of us in bed together lazily flash through the forefront of my mind, him laid on his front as I straddle his bare thighs and massage his back. My thumbs working deep into the knotted muscles of his broad and muscular physique, the feel of my breasts brushing against him as I lean forward and trace my tongue up his spine. The taste of his skin, sweat and his own scent that I can never find elsewhere. 

I clear my throat and shake my head away, willing those thoughts to dissipate as quickly as they had appeared. I shouldn’t be thinking of him. We’re history. 

I stir my drink and make an idiotic point of counting the beads of condensation on the glass. Anything to distract myself. By the time I lookup again I realise he’s gone, I check the table with Soap and the others and he's not there either. 

Breathing a sigh of relief I settle in, despite my little speech in the taxi it looks like we’ll be staying here. Then again I can’t really go elsewhere in shorts, a hoodie, and trainers. The evening flies by, finally we actually start to socialise as a group, no more eye fucking the boys. Just as I start to feel that familiar easy going feeling of the alcohol working its magic on my body, my eyes trail up to the pool table and then the adjacent table and bench. Still no Simon.

I wonder why he's gone, he doesn't chain his cigarettes, and normally after a particularly long operation he parks himself out in the pub until last orders. The more I think about him in the present I can't help the past rear its ugly head. Though it hasn't always been ugly. I find my thoughts shift to us, our passion once upon a time. How fierce it had burnt, the feeling of our bodies, limbs tangled, comfortable and even serene moments in each other's company as we went about mundane ordinary hobbies and tasks. Hopes for the future. His hopes for our future. My inability to fully commit myself. His disappointment and hurt.

“Hey!” 

I feel myself being shaken lightly, blinking and looking around, I'm met with a pair of green eyes. Laura's eyes. Suddenly I'm back in the present, we're in the pub. I realised I'm chewing my thumb, removing it and wiping my thumb dry on my hoodie. I avoid her eyes.

“Yeah sorry, got a little lost there. You know…. I think I'm going to head off. Make my own way back.” 

Standing up, I make my excuses to the rest of the girls, citing plans for the weekend and needing an early night. As I step out onto the street and the pub door closes behind me I take a lung full of air. There's an autumnal chill, I realise how cold I am despite the alcohol coursing through my body. Standing there for a moment longer I make my mind up and walk further along to the taxi rank. My self control crashes, vanishes, and I know I can't fight the inevitable.

Settling into the taxi I nervously play with the cuff on my hoodie, I'm drunk. That's all it is. I just need physical connection. No other reason. I try to distract myself by looking out the passenger window, watching the dark houses fly past as we get ever closer to my destination. My limbs are tingling, I start to panic as I think about the last time we were in close quarters, alone. How he'd looked at him with dark eyes, disappointment and hurt morphing into something else. Anger. How he'd fucked me, lulling me into a sense of security only to pull the rug out from under me after we'd finished. Calling me a slag and practically kicking me out his house. 

His defence mechanism. What did you expect? You broke his heart, did you expect him to carry on with the arrangement as normal, as if he hadn't poured his heart and soul out to you? Only you couldn't reciprocate back could you. Those three words on the tip of your tongue but you're not brave enough to say them. Coward. 

The taxi stops and I'm pulled from my thoughts again. I barely register myself paying the fare and stepping out. I'm outside his home. Simon's home. I'm always awestruck with the mundanity of it. Just a simple two bedroom detached brick property on an unassuming street in Hereford. Close enough for a 15 minute standby, far enough for privacy and comfort away from the Garrison. I feel my heart race and my breath shudder out as I walk those few remaining steps to the front door, I don't even have to knock. The door opens and I'm met with his eyes, I can't tell how he's feeling. It's too dark to see any emotion written on his face.

“Hey” I don't realise how soft my voice is. How nervous I am.

Pt.5

[tmntheadcanons]

tmnt 2003 headcanons: sleeping

Leo:

The room needs to be pitch black, dead silent and ice cold for him to fall asleep.

And he is a very light sleeper. I feel like he was always a bit like this but also trained himself to wake up quickly and easily when he hears something.

And he sleeps straight on his back like he is in a coffin.

And he sleeps with one pillow and it's the same, flat pillow he has been using for the last 10 years.

He won't go to sleep unless he knows everyone is home.

I think the difference between him and Donnie would be that Donnie doesn't let himself sleep but Leo actually can't sleep. I feel like he's naturally a bit of an insomniac but when he tries to sleep he kinda spirals in his own thoughts and stresses himself out.

But it's not always stress that keeps him up it'll be like the song Mikey was singing the same four lines of all day is now violently stuck in his head keeping him awake and he's thinking about how he is going to murder his brother in the morning.

Mikey:

Sleeps with a minimum of 5 pillows. One for spooning, two for his head, one for his feet and one to violently throw off the bed while half asleep at 3 am.

He can really sleep anywhere though. (And he will)

He talks in his sleep. He'll mutter a lot of non-sensical stuff and also he'll sometimes just straight up laugh in his sleep. And he rolls around a lot during the night.

I think Mikey has the wackiest dreams. His dreams are very vivid and if someone shows up in his dream he will go out of his way to tell them about their guest star appearance in his absolutely off the wall bonkers dream.

Also he is the one who has the most nightmares

He likes to sleep with a little bit of noise. He likes the tv playing or music playing while he's falling asleep and if it's dead silent he'll find it a little unsettling.

Same with lights, he likes to have a lava lamp or some sort of soft light on in the room.

I think he would go absolutely feral for one of those galaxy project lights.

Also he's totally a blanket hog.

Raph:

The second his head hits the pillow he is out.

He could be mid conversation and just pass out. But it's only ever when he knows he can. He's good at staying awake if he needs to keep watch but if he's relaxed he can fall asleep in like 30 seconds.

And he sprawls out when he sleeps. He will starfish.

Or be half hanging off the bed.

And he violently snores.

And talks a little bit in his sleep too but not as much as Mikey, just every once in a while.

His dreams are super mundane. He'll come back from an absolutely wild experience, fall asleep and then dream about like doing the dishes.

But every once in a while he'll get a bad stress dream. I could see it being something social related like humans finding out about them and freaking out, or his whole family being upset with him because of something he did.

I feel like Raph would like a bit of white noise when he sleeps, like a fan or something. He doesn't need it to fall asleep, but he likes it.

Like Leo, he is also a bit of a light sleeper, but he falls asleep again pretty quickly after he wakes up.

Donnie:

He's good at staying awake for long periods of time but once he's out, he's OUT.

Must be physically shaken to wake him up.

He is frequently sleep deprived so every once in a while he will crash and sleep for like 14 hours. Most nights he goes to bed way too late especially when he's working on something but usually when he's finished he'll have a recovery day.

Like I said with Leo, his issue is that he doesn't let himself sleep. He won't actually go to bed he will just suck back coffee and keep doing what he's doing. However, I could see him having similar issues as Leo after Good Genes or SAINW, where he overworks himself at night to avoid spiraling thoughts while he's trying to fall asleep.

I feel like he's bad for being like "Okay I'm going to stop working and actually go to bed" and then instead of sleeping he sits in the dark on his computer on the internet until 4 in the morning.

He curls up when he sleeps he never sleeps just flat on his back.

But he'll always wakes up in a weird position he'll be like upside town on his bed in what looks like a yoga position and be like "How did I get here?"

[earthlybeam]

The elves reacting to the different types of kisses (forehead, cheek, jaw, wrist elven ear, nose, shoulder, lips...)

Lindir version below. (For the three who’s requested Elrond I am currently writing that so don’t worry 😉)

🎻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓻

Forehead kiss

Lindir’s fingers brushed lightly across the strings of his lute, lost in the soft, meandering melody he had been playing for what felt like hours. The room was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of birds outside the window. His mind was in a peaceful place, the music flowing freely, when suddenly, he felt the unexpected sensation of warmth on his forehead. The softest of touches—your lips, delicate and tender, pressing a kiss against his skin.

He froze for just a moment, his heart skipping a beat as he looked up in surprise, his wide eyes meeting yours. The soft contact sent a wave of warmth washing over him, a heat that was not just physical but deeply emotional, settling in his chest. His pulse quickened, and his breath became shallow as the tender gesture lingered in his thoughts.

His lips quivered, the tremble barely perceptible, as he glanced upward at you, his pale cheeks turning a soft pink. The faint sound of the lute was forgotten as his hand, once strumming effortlessly, fell still. The kiss had shaken him in the most unexpected and delightful way. “Such a simple gesture,” he thought, but as he lowered his gaze, the depth of the meaning behind it seemed almost too much for his heart to bear.

He gently placed the lute aside, the faint smile that tugged at his lips betraying his bashfulness. He was usually so composed, so in control of his emotions—his voice often bold, his playing effortlessly confident. But now, in the quiet aftermath of that kiss, he found himself disarmed.

His gaze dropped to the floor, his fingers tugging nervously at the hem of his tunic, trying to hide the flush that colored his cheeks. “I do not deserve such sweetness,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though the mere act of speaking might break the spell of tenderness that had enveloped him. But in that moment, he felt utterly cherished, as though all of his troubles and insecurities had been temporarily forgotten in the warmth of your affection.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Cheek kiss

The soft hum of Lindir’s song was interrupted by the gentle pressure of your lips pressing against his cheek. The suddenness of the kiss took him completely by surprise, and he froze in place, his fingers faltering on the strings of his lute. A soft, startled gasp escaped his lips as he blinked, stunned by the sensation.

The warmth of your kiss lingered on his skin, and a delicate blush spread across his cheeks. The feeling was like the first rays of sunlight on a cool morning, unexpected but so deeply welcome. He couldn’t help but reach up, his fingers trembling slightly as he touched the spot where your lips had just been. His heart was beating too fast, and his mind raced in a quiet frenzy. “Why did you have to do that?” he thought, though the question wasn’t one of discomfort. It was the exact opposite: it was one of surprise and vulnerability.

Lindir’s heart was not something he easily gave away, but your touch, so gentle and so unexpected, had cracked something open within him. His cheeks flushed even deeper, and he turned his head slightly to look at you, his gaze half-lidded, unsure of how to respond. His usual confidence was nowhere to be found, leaving him with nothing but the soft beat of his heart and the warmth still blooming from your kiss.

A feeling of vulnerability swept over him, more profound than anything he had felt before. He was usually so poised, so in control of his emotions, but in this moment, he felt like a young elf again, unsure and tender. He glanced down, his fingers now tracing the curve of his cheek where your lips had left their mark. There were no words to express what he felt; he simply could not fathom the depth of such a small act.

When he met your eyes again, his expression was softer than usual, the walls he so carefully built around himself beginning to crumble. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips against your cheek in return, his kiss gentle and tentative, but full of a love that had no need for words. His touch was his thank you, a silent acknowledgment of the affection you had so freely offered him. In that simple, tender exchange, Lindir found a quiet peace, knowing he had a love so pure, so selfless, it could bring him to the edges of vulnerability without fear.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Jawline kiss

Lindir had been playing a soft melody on his lute, the notes flowing gracefully from his fingertips, when you suddenly leaned in and kissed him gently on the jawline. The touch was so tender, yet it hit him with a surprising intensity. The warmth of your lips on his skin seemed to send an electric current straight through his body, causing him to freeze in place for a brief moment. His body stiffened, and a soft gasp escaped his lips, his breath catching in his chest.

The feeling was so overwhelming that he felt as if time had stopped for a fleeting second. A shiver ran down his spine, and his pulse quickened with a fierce intensity that caught him completely off guard. His heart raced, his breath coming in shallow bursts as the sensation of your lips lingered against him. His hand, which had been resting by his side, immediately tightened around yours, pulling you closer, as though trying to steady himself in the face of the unexpected surge of emotions.

Lindir’s face flushed a deep shade of crimson, the warmth spreading across his pale cheeks and creeping down to his neck. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the inner turmoil he was experiencing. He had never expected such a simple gesture to affect him so deeply, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to process it.

“Why do you always manage to make me feel like this?” His voice was low, thick with the emotion he couldn’t fully hide. His words came out softly, filled with awe and something else—vulnerability. He couldn’t help but feel exposed, his heart laid bare by such a simple act of affection. His embarrassment deepened as he realized just how much he had been affected by the kiss, but there was also an undeniable warmth spreading inside him.

Desperate to regain some composure, Lindir leaned in hesitantly, pressing his lips against your cheek in return. His kiss was soft, almost shy, an unspoken thank you for the affection you had shown him. The warmth of your skin against his lips felt comforting, even though his heart was still racing. As he pulled back, his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, his voice barely a whisper as he chuckled nervously, “I don’t know why you do this to me.” The laughter was a nervous attempt to deflect the intensity of the emotions swirling within him, but there was no hiding the deep affection in his eyes.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Wrist kiss

Lindir had been lost in his own thoughts, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on the back of your hand. His mind wandered, but the quiet, intimate moment was broken when you lifted his wrist gently to your lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss there. The sensation of your warm lips against his delicate skin sent a shock of awareness through him, and he immediately blinked, his eyes widening with surprise. His breath hitched as his pulse quickened, a soft flush creeping up his neck and across his chest.

For a moment, he was frozen, unsure of how to respond to such a quiet, tender gesture. It was such an intimate touch, one that seemed to speak volumes without uttering a single word. His heart swelled in his chest, a mixture of surprise and overwhelming affection filling him. His gaze met yours, wide and a little uncertain, as if he were trying to fully comprehend the depth of what had just happened. His lips parted slightly, as though he had something to say, but the words wouldn’t come. “So much affection in such a small place,” he thought, the simple act making him feel deeply loved and cherished.

Despite the warmth flooding through him, a subtle awkwardness settled over Lindir. His usual confidence, especially when it came to his music and his words, seemed to falter in the face of such intimate affection. He found himself struggling to understand how to properly respond. The feeling of your lips still lingered on his wrist, sending soft tremors through his body, and his heart fluttered in his chest, a bit of uncertainty clouding his usually calm demeanor.

He turned his gaze downward, his fingers tracing the spot where your lips had been. For a moment, he lingered in the tenderness of the moment, his chest tightening with emotion. Unable to resist the pull of his feelings, he slowly brought his own hand to your wrist, his lips brushing gently against the delicate skin there. His kiss was soft and slow, an intimate return of the affection you had shown him. There was something incredibly grounding in the gesture, a silent exchange of love that didn’t need words.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, soft and full of warmth, the uncertainty that had clouded him moments before now replaced by a deep, quiet affection. He didn’t need to say anything—the kiss he had returned spoke everything he needed to express. Still, a small part of him felt shy, as though he wasn’t quite sure how to fully embrace the vulnerability of such an intimate moment. But despite the slight awkwardness, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart full, as he met your gaze once more.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈���✦

Lips kiss

Lindir had been walking down the corridor of Rivendell, his thoughts focused on the tasks at hand as the duties of being Lord Elrond’s aide often kept him busy. He held a scroll in his hand, his steps measured and composed as he made his way toward the council hall. The stone walls of the Elven refuge echoed softly with his footsteps, but he wasn’t entirely alone. As he rounded a corner, his gaze was momentarily captured by you standing just ahead.

You had been waiting for him, perhaps knowing he would pass this way, your presence like a quiet whisper in the air. His heart gave an unexpected leap as your eyes met, a gentle smile curving your lips, and for a moment, time seemed to still around him. The responsibilities of his position, the scrolls of duty that weighed in his hand, seemed to melt away as your gaze softened, and your presence surrounded him with a sense of warmth and belonging.

Before Lindir could find the words to greet you, you moved toward him. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened just slightly in surprise, the familiar fluttering of his heart quickening as you stood before him, so close that he could almost feel the warmth of your presence in every fiber of his being.

Without a word, you closed the space between you, your hand rising gently to cup his cheek, and then your lips, soft and tender, brushed against his. The kiss started as a delicate whisper—a brush of affection so light that it almost seemed like a dream. Lindir’s eyes fluttered shut as the warmth of your touch spread through him, his breath hitching for just a moment before he found himself caught in the softness of your kiss.

His lips, initially shy, barely touched yours as he struggled to gather his thoughts, his hands hesitating at his sides before finally moving to cradle yours gently. One of his hands rested on your waist, feeling the delicate curves of your body as his fingers trembled slightly. The kiss was tender, an unspoken exchange of love that he hadn’t known he needed, yet somehow had always longed for.

But as you kissed him more firmly, as if urging him to allow himself to melt into the moment, Lindir’s breath caught again. His heart raced, and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, the warmth of your lips against his causing him to momentarily lose himself in the sensation. His pulse quickened as he leaned into you, surrendering to the connection between you both. He felt his breath grow shallow, his body responding to you in a way that felt both foreign and utterly natural.

Lindir’s hands moved from their tentative place on your waist to hold you more firmly, drawing you closer as he deepened the kiss. His gentle nature gave way to something more earnest, the tender affection he had always carried for you now spilling out in the form of a kiss that was no longer shy or hesitant. The kiss, though still full of tenderness, became more urgent, more desperate, as though he were seeking something deeper within you.

His lips moved against yours in a rhythm of longing and devotion, and for a moment, he forgot the world around him—the duties that had so often consumed him, the responsibilities that had weighed heavy on his shoulders. All that mattered, in that fleeting moment, was the warmth of your touch, the softness of your kiss, and the connection between you.

When he finally pulled away, his face was flushed, and his breathing was uneven, the intensity of the kiss still lingering between you. He gazed at you with wide, soft eyes, his lips slightly parted as he tried to find his words, though none came immediately. He smiled shyly, the vulnerability in his eyes unmistakable, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before murmuring, “I have never known such sweetness.” His voice was quiet, almost reverent, as though the kiss had revealed something new to him—something beautiful and profound that he hadn’t fully understood until now.

Lindir’s heart was still racing in his chest, his body still responding to the aftershocks of the kiss. He had always been a lover of music, of poetry, and of art, but in this moment, he understood that there was a depth to love that no words, no melody could ever fully capture. The kiss had told him everything he needed to know.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Temple kiss

The day had turned soft and quiet, the room filled only with the gentle sounds of the wind rustling through the trees outside and the occasional rustle of papers. Lindir was lost in the peace of the moment, his hand resting lightly in yours, his gaze flickering between the lute he’d left aside and your gentle, calming presence. The day had been full of music, but now it was simply about being together—no words, no performance, just the comfort of your company.

It wasn’t until you leaned in that Lindir truly felt the shift. Your lips pressed softly against his temple, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause. The warmth of your kiss enveloped him like a soft, protective cloak, and his body responded instantly. A small shiver ran down his spine as the kiss, though simple, carried an undeniable intimacy—a sense of safety, of quiet love, that grounded him completely in the moment.

Lindir closed his eyes for a split second, savoring the feeling of your lips against his skin. The sensation was so gentle, and yet so profound. It wasn’t a kiss of passion or fervor; it was a kiss of care, a kiss that wrapped around him like the very air he breathed. He felt, in that brief moment, that he was home—that with you, nothing else mattered. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you in this sacred space.

His shoulders, which had been tense with the small, unnoticed stress of the day, relaxed under your touch, his muscles softening as if he were shedding the weight of the world. The tenderness of your gesture melted away the hidden anxieties, and he found himself at peace, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. He didn’t need to speak, didn’t need to say anything at all. The kiss had spoken all the words he couldn’t find.

Lindir let his forehead rest gently against yours as you lingered close, a wordless exchange of affection flowing between you. He had never been so at ease, so completely content in someone’s presence. His hand, still gently cradling yours, tightened just slightly, the touch full of warmth and trust. A small smile played at the corners of his lips as he leaned in slightly more, savoring the peaceful connection.

In that quiet moment, his thoughts were filled with gratitude, a deep sense of being seen and loved for who he truly was. “You always know how to bring me peace,” he thought softly, a whisper of a thought that spoke more than words could ever express. Your love, so gentle and unwavering, had a way of soothing the weariness that Lindir never realized he carried until moments like these.

As the kiss lingered, the bond between you seemed to solidify, no longer needing to be spoken aloud. It was a bond of quiet moments, of shared affection, and Lindir couldn’t help but feel like everything he needed was right there in your arms, in the gentle touch of your lips against his temple. And in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Neck kiss

Lindir sat alone in the quiet alcove of Rivendell, his attention absorbed in the scroll before him. The soft rustle of the parchment was the only sound in the peaceful corner, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch on, calm and undisturbed. His fingers lightly traced the script as he worked through the task at hand, the rhythmic nature of his work giving him a sense of grounding. But then, without warning, the atmosphere shifted.

You approached quietly, so gently that he didn’t even hear you until your presence was close. Before he could react, your lips pressed softly against the sensitive skin of his neck. The kiss was light but electric, sending a wave of heat coursing through his body. The warmth of your touch seared through his skin, and Lindir’s breath hitched in surprise. His whole body froze for just a heartbeat, caught between the shock of the moment and the undeniable pleasure it stirred within him.

A soft, barely audible noise escaped his lips—an almost breathless “Ah…”—the sound so foreign and unintentional that it only deepened his immediate fluster. It was a soft mewl, more from the shock of being so tenderly kissed than any real discomfort. His breath quickened as his body reacted instinctively, stiffening under the intensity of the sensation. His pulse hammered in his chest, racing faster with each passing second, the sound of it echoing in his ears.

The kiss on his neck seemed to spread a warmth that radiated throughout his entire body, pooling in his chest and settling deep within him. His skin burned where your lips had met him, and the sensation sent shivers down his spine, a thrill of pleasure and vulnerability washing over him. His face flushed a bright crimson, his skin heated and almost painfully aware of your closeness. Lindir’s fingers clenched involuntarily at his sides, as if he were holding onto something to steady himself, unsure whether to pull away or allow the moment to unfold further.

He turned his head slightly, unable to meet your gaze directly, as if the overwhelming intimacy had caught him off guard. A quiet gasp slipped past his lips, and his words came out in a quiet, trembling whisper, barely audible. “You do things to me that I cannot understand…” His voice was thick with a mixture of awe and confusion. He was always composed—careful and poised—but this gesture, this simple kiss, unraveled him in a way he had not anticipated.

Lindir closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his composure, but his heartbeat continued to race, and the sensation of your lips on his neck lingered in his mind. His body was still betraying him, reacting to your touch in ways he couldn’t fully control. Even though he tried to steady his breath, he felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet, in a way, deeply cherished.

The soft, lingering feeling of your kiss seemed to reverberate within him, leaving a mark of warmth that he could not ignore. He could feel the aftershocks of the kiss, like a pulse of affection that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. The tenderness and affection behind it filled him with an overwhelming sense of closeness, a bond that went beyond words. His fingers, still twitching at his sides, finally reached out slowly, brushing against your arm with a gentleness that mirrored the way your lips had touched him.

And even though Lindir still struggled to find the right words, his heart knew the truth of the moment he felt both exposed and loved, his vulnerability laid bare, yet cherished all the more for it. He could not deny the effect you had on him, nor the joy and warmth that filled him after this quiet, intimate exchange.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Hand kiss

The evening had fallen quietly around Rivendell, the soft glow of lanterns reflecting off the stone floors as Lindir and you walked side by side down a narrow corridor. The distant sound of Elven voices filled the air, but for a moment, it was just the two of you—caught in a peaceful, shared silence. Lindir’s thoughts drifted, his mind at ease with the beauty of the night, until your hand suddenly slipped into his.

It was a simple touch, but the intimacy of it caught him off guard. He looked at your hand, his heart skipping a beat at the way your fingers intertwined with his. His breath faltered for a brief moment, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he allowed the warmth of your hand to anchor him, feeling the quiet strength and tenderness of your presence.

Then, without saying a word, you brought his hand gently to your lips. The soft press of your kiss against his knuckles was like a spark, igniting a quiet fire within him. The warmth of your lips lingered there, and Lindir felt a sensation he had not expected—tenderness, affection, and a profound sense of being cherished.

His breath caught in his chest, his heart swelling with emotion. He had always been the one to give, to share his music, his art, and his words, but in this moment, he was overwhelmed by the quiet love you offered him without asking for anything in return. His hand, usually so occupied with the duties of his position, felt like it was made of something softer, more delicate, now that it rested in your care.

Lindir’s eyes lifted to meet yours, his gaze softening as he allowed himself to fully experience the moment. There was no need for grand declarations or sweeping gestures, just the quiet intimacy of your kiss. His pulse quickened, and a small, shy smile played at the corners of his lips. “Your touch is always so gentle,” he thought, his chest tightening with emotion. His voice was soft, his tone filled with a quiet awe, “I’ve never known such tenderness before.”

Still holding your hand, he brought his other hand to yours, lifting it delicately and pressing his lips to your knuckles in return. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and full of the love he felt for you. His lips lingered there for a moment, a gesture of gratitude, an offering of his own affection.

When he pulled back, there was a slight flush to his cheeks, a soft vulnerability in the way he looked at you. “You have a way of making everything feel… beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. His heart still fluttered with the intensity of the moment, and the simplicity of your affection made him feel as though he was floating in a world that existed just for the two of you.

He tightened his hold on your hand, a silent promise—one he would keep, for as long as he had the breath to do so. The warmth of your touch remained with him, filling him with a joy that he would carry with him for the rest of his days.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Shoulder kiss

The quiet halls of Rivendell hummed with the soft sounds of the day—an occasional rustle of papers, the distant pluck of strings from a lute, and the murmur of conversations echoing down the long corridors. Lindir, ever the dutiful aide, was absorbed in his work at his desk, his hands moving with precision as he read through letters and wrote responses for Lord Elrond. He had long ago mastered the art of filtering out distractions, his mind solely focused on his responsibilities. So when you approached him, he didn’t hear your soft steps or sense your presence until it was too late.

Without a word, you leaned in, and your lips brushed against his bare shoulder. The soft pressure of your kiss was a complete surprise, a gentle warmth that seemed to permeate his very being. Lindir’s body froze for a fraction of a second, the unexpectedness of the touch pulling him from his thoughts. His breath hitched in his chest, his heart racing as though it had been startled into beating faster. He closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer tenderness of the gesture.

The sensation of your lips against his skin sent a pleasant shiver through him, the heat radiating from where you kissed him, spreading through his body in waves. His breath became shallow as his pulse quickened, and a deep blush began to color his cheeks, painting his pale skin a delicate shade of pink.

Lindir had always been self-conscious about his appearance, especially when it came to his more vulnerable spots—his shoulders, his neck, the softer parts of him he had never fully embraced. But your kiss—so soft, so tender—made him feel seen in a way he couldn’t explain. It was as if, for that moment, you looked past his insecurities and simply cherished him for who he was.

The intimacy of it made his emotions swell, and he fought to steady his breath. “This closeness…” he thought, his heart full of gratitude and quiet affection. The vulnerability he usually felt in such moments was soothed by the calm, steady warmth of your touch. The simple kiss on his shoulder filled him with a quiet sense of belonging, of love, as though you had wrapped him in a safe, unspoken embrace.

When you finally pulled back, Lindir slowly opened his eyes, his gaze soft and filled with a mixture of awe and love. His hands found yours, gently pulling you closer as his lips parted into a shy, warm smile. “You do not know how much your kindness means to me,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet sincerity.

Without another word, he leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that spoke volumes—an unspoken promise, a quiet thank you for the love and warmth you had shown him in such a simple, profound way.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Nose kiss

The evening had settled over Rivendell in a soft glow, the lanterns casting their golden light on the stone walls as you and Lindir walked through the halls. The day’s duties had faded into the background, replaced by a shared moment of laughter and ease as you strolled together, trading stories and teasing each other in that familiar way that came from being close. Lindir was telling you about a song he had recently composed, his voice warm and light as he laughed along with the rhythm of his own words. The sound of his laughter was like music in the quiet hall, playful and full of joy.

In the middle of his tale, you leaned in without warning, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. The contact was unexpected, and Lindir froze for a moment, his eyes wide as he registered the gentle touch. He blinked at you, his expression one of surprise, his lips parting in a soft laugh that seemed to escape before he could fully catch his breath. The touch was light, almost mischievous, but it filled him with a joy that he couldn’t quite contain.

His cheeks flushed instantly, a soft pink spreading across his face as he reached up, almost instinctively, to brush his fingers lightly against his nose where your lips had just been. He couldn’t suppress the warmth that blossomed within him, the deep rush of affection he felt for you. “Did you just kiss my nose?” he asked, his voice light and teasing, but the softness in it revealed just how deeply he cherished even the simplest gestures from you. His laugh, still ringing with warmth, filled the hallway, making the air around him feel lighter.

“You always know how to make me smile,” he thought, his heart soaring with the sweetness of the moment. The playfulness of it all was such a contrast to his usual composed nature, and yet, it made him feel more alive than ever. The gentle kiss on his nose, so playful and yet filled with love, made him feel cherished in a way he hadn’t realized he craved until that moment.

Blushing even more, Lindir leaned in and kissed your cheek, the gesture swift but full of warmth. His heart raced in his chest, and his breath came in a soft sigh as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His smile deepened, and the joy in his eyes was unmistakable.

“You have such a way with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, the playful banter still lingering between you. But as he gazed at you, it was clear that he was more than just amused—he was moved, his love for you reflected in every glance, every smile. Even in the midst of your teasing, you had a way of making him feel special, seen, and deeply loved.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Elven ear kiss

Lindir sat at his desk in his private chambers, the soft flicker of candlelight casting gentle shadows on the papers scattered in front of him. His dark chestnut brown hair fell gracefully over his shoulders, partly veiling his ears as he concentrated on his task. The quiet hum of the wind outside and the rhythmic scratching of his quill on parchment were the only sounds in the otherwise still room. His mind was fully absorbed in the task at hand: carefully recording a report for Lord Elrond. The peace of the moment, the solitude, seemed to settle around him, and for a brief time, the world outside faded into a distant murmur.

Unaware of your presence, Lindir was lost in his thoughts, his focus unbroken as he worked. Then, in an instant, the quiet was pierced by the soft sound of your approach. You moved toward him with the quiet grace that only an elf could possess, your steps almost soundless as you neared. Without warning, you leaned over, pressing your lips gently against the delicate curve of his ear.

The sensation was like nothing Lindir had ever experienced. The kiss, soft as a whisper, made his entire body freeze, every muscle tensing as a shiver of unexpected pleasure raced through him. His breath caught in his throat, and a low, involuntary moan slipped past his lips before he could stop it. The warmth of your lips against his sensitive ear was overwhelming, igniting a rush of sensations that left him temporarily disoriented. His entire body felt as though it had been electrified, each nerve alive and humming with the intimate touch.

Lindir’s eyes fluttered closed as he exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, to hold onto the moment without becoming entirely lost in it. His pulse quickened, the rhythmic beat pounding in his ears like the sound of distant drums. His heart raced wildly, a deep flush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, leaving him deeply embarrassed but undeniably elated. “What is it about you…” he thought to himself, his mind struggling to find the words to understand the intensity of what you made him feel.

His ears, finely attuned to every sensation, burned with warmth from your kiss. He could feel his Elven ears, normally hidden beneath the curtain of his hair, turning a shade of red that mirrored the heat flooding his face. His eyes opened slowly, and he turned his head toward you, still dazed from the unexpected intimacy. The softness of your touch lingered in the air around him, as though the kiss had left an imprint on his very soul.

Immediately, Lindir turned away, his hand coming to his face in a desperate attempt to hide his blush. His cheeks burned, the feeling of embarrassment overwhelming as he mumbled under his breath, “I… I didn’t mean to—” But his words were cut short by a soft laugh escaping you. You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction, finding it utterly endearing. He had moaned, after all, and it had caught him completely off guard.

With a playful grin, you leaned in, pressing your face into the soft waves of his dark chestnut hair, nuzzling him gently. The action only seemed to embarrass Lindir further, and he squeaked in surprise, his body stiffening as though trying to escape the tender, teasing affection. His eyes widened in flustered surprise, and he let out a soft, nervous laugh, half-shocked at the intensity of his own reaction.

“You’re teasing me now,” Lindir whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he tried to regain his composure. But his blush only deepened as he buried his face in his hand, attempting to shield himself from your teasing gaze. His Elven ears burned brighter, the pink hue spreading across his skin like wildfire.

The moment you nuzzled into his hair, Lindir’s breath caught, and he couldn’t stop the quiet laugh that bubbled up from deep within him, the sound a little embarrassed but full of joy. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, shaking his head in playful exasperation, but there was no denying the tenderness in his tone. He could feel his heart still racing from the intimate kiss, but now the warmth of your affection seemed to steady him, even as his face remained flushed and his body still hummed with the aftershocks of your touch.

“You’re not making this any easier, you know,” he added, his voice light and teasing now, though the shy smile that tugged at his lips was still there. He leaned into you, allowing himself a moment of comfort, even as his body flushed with both embarrassment and affection. The overwhelming pleasure of the kiss had made him lose his composure for a moment, but now, in the safety of your embrace, he was beginning to find his footing again.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Back of the neck kiss

Lindir was nestled in the quiet of his chambers, a plush cushion beneath him as he sat cross-legged, lost in the soothing rhythm of his harp. His fingers moved gracefully across the strings, the delicate melody drifting through the room like a soft breeze. The light of the late afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting a golden glow that danced across the stone floor and illuminated the serene scene. Lindir’s mind was far away, adrift in the music, the familiar comfort of the tune grounding him in a calm, almost meditative state.

He didn’t hear your approach, his attention fully consumed by the melody he was creating. The space around him seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the music and his thoughts. Then, without any warning, you were there—your presence felt only when you leaned down, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck.

The suddenness of the kiss made Lindir stiffen in surprise, his entire body reacting to the intimate touch. A gasp escaped him before he could stop it, his breath catching as an unexpected shiver ran through him. The kiss on the back of his neck felt like a jolt of electricity, sparking sensations he hadn’t anticipated. His fingers froze mid-strum, the soft melody of the harp falling into an abrupt silence. His whole body tensed, every muscle going rigid as his mind struggled to comprehend the overwhelming feeling.

He held his breath for a moment, feeling the heat of your lips against the delicate nape of his neck, and a wave of warmth spread through his entire body. Goosebumps prickled along his skin, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as the pleasure surged through him. His heart began to race, the soft beats now quickened with a mix of surprise and something more intense—desire, perhaps.

Lindir slowly turned to face you, his movements hesitant at first, as if he couldn’t quite reconcile the intimacy of the moment with the shock it had caused. His eyes were wide, filled with a quiet awe, and he reached out, his hands trembling slightly as they sought out your touch. His breath was shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to calm the fluttering in his heart.

His Elven ears, usually so attuned to every sound around him, were sensitive to the slightest change in temperature or touch, and now they were flushed a deep shade of red. He could feel the heat spreading to his cheeks, his embarrassment evident in the way he quickly tried to hide his reaction. He turned toward you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to bury his face from view, unable to fully suppress the blush that had bloomed across his face. His lips were still trembling from the shock of the kiss, and his heart seemed to thrum with the intensity of it all.

The feeling of your arms around him, the warmth of your touch, made him feel both exposed and adored, his vulnerability laid bare in that simple gesture. Despite the overwhelming sensations, there was a quiet joy in it too. The rush of intimacy, though unexpected, filled him with a sense of closeness to you that left him breathless in more ways than one.

“I didn’t expect that…” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with a mixture of surprise, affection, and the lingering effects of your touch. His heart was still racing, his chest rising and falling with a quickness that betrayed the effect you had on him. “You leave me speechless,” he added, his words laced with affection but also a note of shyness as he nuzzled deeper into your neck, trying to hide the redness in his face.

He was embarrassed by how his body had reacted—how his pulse had surged, how his skin had come alive under your touch. But there was also something in that moment that left him longing for more. The closeness, the tenderness, and the raw emotion made him feel more connected to you than ever before, and he wasn’t sure he could find the words to express just how much it meant to him.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

[cissyenthusiast010155]

hey ha! saw requests are open so i take the chance and may request something also sorry for the english 👉🏿👈🏿 soooo the thing is im obsessed with lucifer from sandman in an unhealty way and there is this idea in my head that lives rentfree so luci saves f/reader that is trapped "in" a demon that shows them there bigges fear and all the things and people that they did something to they regret so we are crying and fearing but luci comes like " T_T...you shouldnt be here" grabs over our shoulder puts there wing protectiv around our back und guids us to the illusion that the demon is creating at a point where the illusion brings us to hesitate the next steps luci push us forward and be like the lightbringer angel they are and we are like 🥲🥲🥲 mhmhm thanks and fluff stuff

i know its kinda specific and its ok if your not up to this but want to drop here im a fan of your writhing so im looking forward to everything you post xD

so have a good one ans thanks for your time 🌚❤️

Hiiii anon!! Thank you for the request! It’s detailed, and I love that 🥰 I tried to follow your request as best as I could. Hope you Enjoy!! 💞💞

Shadow Shadow ~Soft!Lucifer Morningstar xGN!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, happy ending fluff, demonic possession, crying, anxiety, implied anxiety attack, greatest fears, comforting, pet names, fluff ending, etc.

Enjoy (:

The dishes had piled up in your kitchen sink. They had been bothering you all day, so with a sigh, you got up and went over to address them. You started cleaning the dishes one by one…

Your ears perked up when you thought you heard the door move. You looked back at the kitchen door, but it hadn’t moved. Odd, you thought.

Suddenly, you felt something invade you.

The feeling was hard to explain… Your eyes rolled back and you started levitating off the ground slightly, as a sharp, yet un-uniform, non-physical shape pierced and entered you. You let out a strangled scream as you started to feel your body go numb. You were sucked into yourself, having no control over your body anymore, somebody else was now at the wheel.

Everything around you was dark. You could still vaguely see through your eyes, but you were being pulled into the darkness more and more.

Suddenly you were pulled into a memory filled with true fear and terror. You started to shake as you were forced to relive these twisted thoughts and memories. They were warped, having heightened fear and fright. You started crying, falling to the ground and shaking uncontrollably.

You didn’t know how long you were in those state, but you were cradling yourself on the ground, scared to death and sobbing uncontrollably.

Suddenly, you heard a voice, not one of your own.

“You should not be here…!” The booming voice exclaimed.

You then felt the invasion start to be pulled out of you.

The feeling was still hard to explain… Your eyes rolled back and you started levitating off the ground slightly, as a sharp, yet un-uniform, non-physical shape pierced you once more, but this time exiting you. You let out a strangled scream as you started to feel your body come back to you. You were sucked back out of your depths, having finally control over your body again, the somebody else at the wheel now gone.

When your vision came back to you, you saw a tall figure with strong wings standing in front of you. You were still shaken and scared for your life. Your lip trembled and you immediately put your hands in front of your face to protect yourself.

“My name is Lucifer.” The large being spoke softly, bringing one of their wings around you, “What’s your name, little thing?”

The wing around you made you oddly calmer. You felt protected. And you felt like you could finally breathe.

“I… Y/N…” you whispered, wiping the tears away for your eyes.

Lucifer nodded slowly in understanding.

“That is a lovely name.” They cooe, “I am sorry that you had to experience that, my sweet…”

“What… W-what was that…?” You whispered.

Lucifer sighed.

“One of my more roudy demons who got away from me.” They admitted, “It won’t happen again. You need not worry.” They reassured you.

“No but what was that…?” Your voice trembled as you thought back to the horrific feeling that you had felt in every bone of your body for that time.

You winced and tears threatened to spill down your cheeks once more. Lucifer sighed in sympathy.

“You see, Demons like to thrive off of the human mind… And this demon specialized in fear” They explained gently, “So the demon pulled out your biggest fears to feed off of and survive inside you. Humans call this possession.”

Tears began to flow down your face once more. You nodded at their words.

“It was so awful…” you choked out, your voice cracking.

Lucifer’s wings held you closer and their hand came behind you to rub your back.

“I know, little one…” they cooed lovingly, “But the demon is gone now. It will never bother you again.”

“Ok…” you whispered, looking up at the Lightbringer with watery eyes.

“Thank you” you choked out.

“Anytime, little one…” Lucifer gently spoke, “I’ll come back to check on you soon, alright…?”

You hiccuped and nodded. Then Lucifer left and you were back in your kitchen. With your dishes.

~~~

Lucifer Morningstar Masterlist

[charmwasjess]

director's commentary on that truly homoerotically loaded sparring scene in... i wanna say Sitting? but i am not entirely sure and i can't go to check bc ao3 is down again :')

but i am sure u know the one

OH I KNOW ODDLY-EROTIC-YET-PLATONIC FIGHT SCENE

It’s a sparring scene, but in the context of the fic, Dooku has had his shit rocked hard on a mission, he’s still recovering, his lightsaber is damaged so he’s using a borrowed blade, and his confidence in himself is shaken. But he gets Sifo-Dyas up in the middle of the night because he’s going crazy without being able to spar. It’s got to be Sifo-Dyas because Dooku is too embarrassed for anyone else to know how weak he really is. It’s really too soon, but he needs this, he half begs Sifo into it, who goes on to very tenderly kick his ass. 

I wrote it before I ever shipped him with Dooku, so I couldn’t figure out why their dialogue and all was coming out so …suggestive. I chalked it up to Sifo-Dyas’s personality - okay, he’s a playful troublemaker, he’s a bitch, he’d probably flirt with a cardboard box. But I think it’s this mixture of rawness and intimacy, need and response, and the physical play of their bodies and their lightsaber forms. It felt 100% more like writing a sex scene than a sparring scene. And I’d keep that dynamic when I eventually paired them: Dooku is uncomfortable around the idea of sex, not always sure of what he wants or his relationship to his own pleasure, and he relies on Sifo-Dyas taking the initiative to get out of his own head and enjoy their shared physicality. It's a top Sifo/bottom Dooku scene without anybody taking off their clothes.

---

“So exactly how long has it been? Just how wound up are you?”

Dooku turned and gave him a look.

“Oh. That bad?” Sifo-Dyas whistled softly. He passed his own saber from hand to hand and smiled. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

Dooku moved to take his place across from him, trying to make himself go slow, not rush into it. “I am far from capable of that just now.”

“Oh, good.” His friend sounded cheerful, if a little tired. “We’ll finally be an equal match for once.” Without further ceremony, he fired up the blue of his saber, and brought it into Soresu's opening brace-ready stance, one arm extended, the blade parallel to his cheek. His features took on a cast of half shadow, half ice.

“Don’t be like that. It isn’t true,” Dooku frowned. “And it isn’t kind.”

“All right, you’ll still win as usual, but this time I might make it last a bit longer for you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I meant it isn’t kind to you. You are a strong sword.”

“Thank you for the compliment. I was trying to make you smile.”

“I smile,” Dooku said, not smiling.

[sunbeamah]

Hi everyone!

Firstly I'd like to sincerely apologise to everyone who follows me, and who's been waiting for an update on any of my fics. I made promises for chapters and posting times that I didn't keep, and I should never have made them when I was in such a shaky place.

It feels really silly to act like I'm a public figure or something, but I know many of you care about the fics I post and want to know if they'll be updated and whatnot. I'll put a heading below the cut for that specifically, so you can skip the first bit (explanation of what's been delaying said fics so much).

These past 2 months a lot has happened in my life. My parents got a divorce and I have experienced more betrayal, disdain and hatred from my father's side of the family than I ever thought possible. The same family that inspired me to write trouble in tokyo, the family who I love so much, has shown me once again who they truly are. I've experienced everything from violence to exclusion to just straight up being ignored, and I'm still a bit shaken from how quickly everything turned. I'm physically okay and safe now, and I'll heal emotionally.

I realise now that I was always an outsider looking in. My family is full of close-knit sibling groups, and I'm an only child who never quite fit. I was always too awkward, too different, too disappointing in the visual sense, to ever really fit in. They were all nice enough when we spoke one-on-one, so I thought maybe the reason why they ignored me and excluded me in group settings was because, though they loved me, they just loved or liked each other more. But I was just turning a blind eye to all the things they did because I wanted to protect. Whether that protection was for myself and my feelings, or my images of the people I felt were close as siblings to me, I don't know. But I understand now.

Families in my culture don't have to be blood-related. It's silly to forgive people of all their trespasses and put them on a pedestal just because you share a grandparent. I know all this, and yet here I am, still crying.

Updates on my fanfiction specifically

I still have many troublesome extras planned and half-written, and I will be finishing and posting those! The Kusozu brothers are a strong family with a genuine, unconditional love for each other that I still believe exists! I'm sure it's out there waiting for us all :)

I'm so sorry to everyone who's sent me an ask I haven't gotten back to yet, I sincerely thank you so much for sending them. I want to reply with a fic chapter for you all, and that's the only reason why I haven't responded.

The Butterfly Effect chapters I promised had to be scrapped. I will be writing better ones and hopefully posting them in a more timely manner.

The Cat!Yuuji au Nine Lives has 3 more works to come. They're short, silly little ficlets that aren't serious or heavy at all.

My many, many, many jjk fics unposted will start to be posted soon. I've got lots of inspiration and lots of emotional turmoil to write out, so please excuse me if it's something a little angstier.

[theflyindutchwoman]

Hey, you okay? Yeah, you? Yeah, I am now.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.21 - Going Under

Bookending this season with two undercover missions for Lucy and Tim was a really great move to showcase the progression of their relationship… The first one allowed them to finally be in touch with their feelings for each other whereas that second one gave them the opportunity to experience how this type of life could impact them, to begin acknowledging their fears and setting necessary boundaries. In both cases, they were working together. But the tone of the episode is very much different. And this time, they're on separate sides. Vegas gave Tim a direct glimpse of how good Lucy was at undercover work… But for all the danger they faced, he was right by her side. Here, he can only be a witness and this difference of perspective changes everything. It is stripping him bare. And it is particularly visible in this scene, when Lucy gets shot at.

That look of fear on his face is so visceral. Even though he's able to give all the information on the radio, his eyes are anxiously locked on that window, waiting for a sign from Lucy that she's fine. Holding his breath in the meantime. And Lucy… The way she immediately pops up from her hiding place, looking straight away in his direction, not caring one bit that she could give them away… In that moment, all that matters is to reassure him and make sure that he is okay as well. That eye contact despite the distance… And the relief on his face… How he even needs a few seconds to compose himself and start breathing again before starting the pursuit of the shooter… It is so raw.

And it is very apparent that he is reeling. He makes a mistake right away, by putting the sirens on despite being still parked right in front of the restaurant. Luckily for him, Teska is too busy being worried about the cops to notice that there was a police car watching him. As good as Tim is at compartmentalising, he can't do that when it comes to Lucy. That was already clear during her disappearance… But now that they're together, it's that much more difficult for him to stay objective. Like he told her once, it's her. And that leads him to the second mistake, one that could have cost him his life : 'If your head is not 100% in the game, it'll get you killed'. That's what he said to Lucy during their previous UC op… And that's what almost happened here. He is so rattled by the events of earlier that he is caught completely off-guard. Just like in the hotel room. You can see the realisation hit him… How his lack of focus could have been fatal. It's the fact that he admits being lucky to another officer, that he needs to say it out loud, that shows how shaken he is.

It's only once Lucy calls him, once he can hear her voice that he starts breathing again. Tim picking up right away, the phone barely ringing, proves how on edge he has been the whole time. And while she seems to fare much better outwardly, the way she barely waits for Teska to leave her before calling Tim tells a different story. She couldn't even wait for the car to be several blocks away for safety… That's how much she needs to hear from him as well. To reassure him and herself that they're both alright. And his immediate words being to ask if she's okay… Followed by 'I am now'… Again, this is so visceral. He can't even hide his fear, it's purely instinctual in that moment. And with the way she answers yes, it's clear that they both need to see the other as soon as possible… Need that physical reassurance… None of them are able to bounce back like they did in Vegas. Even once the mission is over.

[didmyownresearch]

The Five Stages of Perception

Before I started learning physics, I thought Quantum mechanics was very weird and mystifying. Then I took several courses in Quantum theory and came to the conclusion that, although it is indeed counter-intuitive, it is still logical and can be grasped and fully comprehended. But then, one day, I suddenly understood what this theory implies with respect to reality. I had to admit to myself: Quantum mechanics is far stranger than I had imagined before I've studied it.

Well, some time ago I stumbled upon a saying attributed to the nine-century Zen master Qingyuan Weixin (Ch'ing-yüan Wei-hsin), that goes like this:

“Before I had studied Zen for thirty years, I saw mountains as mountains, and waters as waters. When I arrived at a more intimate knowledge, I came to the point where I saw that mountains are not mountains, and waters are not waters. But now that I have got its very substance I am at rest. For it's just that I see mountains once again as mountains, and waters once again as waters.”

Now, this Zen koan, or proverb, seems to indicate quite the opposite progression than the one I have experienced with Quantum physics. Starting with the pragmatic, simplistic view: everything is as it seems; Then, coming to question the external appearance of material objects; Finally finding rest at the understanding that, at the "very substance", a cigar is just a cigar.

Then I thought some more about the koan. I reckoned that, rather than contradicting my own experience, the two paths are in fact complementary. There are not three but five stages of perception, as one comes to understand the world better. They are:

The naïve state: everything is grasped at face value, without any questioning.

The mystic state: things are not as they seem. There is a hidden, spiritual nature to matter.

The materialistic state: objects and phenomena may be complex, but they are governed by mechanisms that are knowable and intelligible.

The bewildered state: things don't add up. There is something fundamental that we don't understand about nature. Mountains are not mountains.

The enlightened state: it puts your mind, finally, at rest. Alas, you must be enlightened to be able to grasp it.

The ancient Zen masters didn't have any science and therefore could not truly comprehend a materialistic view. Qingyuan Weixin begun its journey from the naïve stance of the layman, but after he was introduced to the arcane Zen knowledge, he adopted a mystical view. Then, (so we are supposed to believe) by absorbing the essence of Zen thinking, he managed to leap straight into the enlightened state.

I, on the other hand, started from a mildly mystical view of physical nature, but quickly adopted physicalism, as befit a respectable man of science. This comfortable view was shaken and finely shattered as I grew older and wiser. So, both me and master Weixin climbed the same ladder, but stepped on different stairs. He started lower but reached higher. I'm still stuck, bewitched, bothered and bewildered.

[nakachuchu]

CHAPTER FIVE: GIVE AND TAKE

Black Swan series

SYNOPSIS: You had always been the support system on the field, so why would they change off the field?

WORDS: 1k

WRITTEN: 11/19/2023

Despite being revived, the death of Riko still hung heavily in the air for you and Suguru. While Satoru was mourning in his own way, the toll of her death took a lot from Suguru.

He was visibly getting worse. He couldn't stomach food. The Curses he was consuming was the only substance in his stomach most days.

Dark circles hung under his eyes, which had lost their usual determined glint. His shoulders slumped, as if the weight of his guilt was a physical burden.

You ached for him.

Riko had been a stabilizing force, keeping Suguru's dangerous impulses in check. Her death had unleashed something unhinged in him. You knew he blamed himself for failing to protect her.

"Suguru," you said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "This wasn't your fault. Riko wouldn't want you to tear yourself apart like this."

He didn't meet your eyes. "I should have been stronger. What good am I if I can't even save the people closest to me?" His voice was raw with pain.

"You can't save everyone," you replied sadly. "No one has that power."

You knew that now better than ever, having glimpsed the inevitability of Death firsthand.

Suguru's breath hitched, tears welling in his eyes. You pulled him into an embrace.

"But we can keep living for those we've lost. We can honor their memories."

At this, Suguru finally broke down. He clung to you, sobs wracking his frame. You held him tightly, your own tears falling.

You and him stayed in that position for a while until he was ready to let go.

"I think I'll take a shower," he murmured with a pained smile.

You smiled back and nodded, letting go of his weak body. "I'll see you later?"

He nodded and walked away from you. You watched him walk down the hallway, and once he rounded the corner and disappeared, you stood up from the bench and got ready to go back to your room.

As you took a step forward, a random wave of nausea hit and bile rose up. You covered your mouth and forced yourself to swallow the putrid liquid.

With trembling breaths as you uncovered your mouth, your head remained frozen as you looked to the end of the hallway with the corner of your eyes.

A dark shadow lingered there. As quick as it came, it disappeared into nothing.

A shudder wracked your body at the lingering memory. Death had sunk its claws into you, however briefly, and left its mark on your psyche.

You hurried back to your room, eager to be alone. You grabbed all the necessary supplies for your shower and ran to the female shower room.

Suguru's breakdown had shaken you, stirring up your own lingering trauma. Under the stream of hot water in the shower, you finally allowed yourself to break.

The tears came all at once, gut-wrenching sobs tearing from your throat. You slid down the shower wall, curling into yourself on the floor as water cascaded over you.

The water burned your eyes and blocked your nose, making it hard to breathe.

The shadow you saw in the hallway lingered in your mind. Death's grip on you had left wounds no one else could see. You hugged your knees to your chest, overwhelmed and afraid as you laid down on your side.

Even back among the living, you were irrevocably changed by your brief glimpse of the other side. Cold tendrils of dread still gripped your heart. You wondered if you'd ever feel warm again.

You jolted at the sudden feelings of hands on your body, getting glimpses of the cold, bony hands that once gripped your skin.

“Y/N.”

Soft brown eyes stared at you with sadness and pity. Shoko’s soft hands gently gripped your forearms to pull you back up onto your ass.

Your naked body didn't bother her. She had seen you naked when she was preparing your body in the mortuary.

Regardless of your death, she still wouldn't have been bothered, especially if you were in need of support.

“Shoko,” you cried, in fear and embarrassment.

She was fully clothed, but she was not shying away from the scalding water that marked your skin red.

You shuddered in Shoko's gentle grip, mortified that she was seeing you at your most vulnerable. But her eyes held no judgment, only compassion.

"It's okay," she soothed, brushing the wet hair back from your face. "You don't have to hide your pain from me."

You took a few gulping breaths, trying to rein in the sobs. “I'm useless,” you admitted.

Shoko's expression was filled with sorrow. She moved to turn off the shower and helped you stand on shaky legs, wrapping a towel around you.

Leading you back to your room, she sat you down and simply held you as you cried, stroking your hair soothingly.

No words needed to be said. She knew the horrors you had endured and accepted you wholly, trauma and all.

When the tears finally subsided, you clung to her, afraid to let go. "Please, don't leave me alone," you whispered hoarsely.

"Never," she promised.

Shoko stayed with you through the night, keeping the terrors at bay with her comforting presence.

In the morning, you felt strong enough to face the others again.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Shoko.

She smiled and shrugged. “We're friends, aren't we? I need to freshen up. I'll see you at breakfast?”

You nodded. “See you.”

You closed the door to your bedroom to get some alone time before breakfast. You couldn't let the others see you like this. They needed you to be strong as they grieved Riko.

You knew you would stumble again, but Shoko would be there to catch you when you fell.

With shaking breaths, you pushed yourself back up. As you washed away your tears, you rebuilt your walls. Your expression was neutral once more.

You dressed and went to meet the others, keeping your swirling emotions contained. In your dreams you would relive it all - the darkness, the cold, the sheer terror.

But waking, you would not add to their pain. Death would not take you yet.

TAGLIST: @idktbhloley @iluv-ace

[gallivantingheart]

shaken

wonwooxreader approx. 1000 words genre: angst, hurt/comfort warnings: stalker, violence

You didn't realise how dangerous dating as a famous person could be until you got home. The lights off in your flat. Wonwoo was grabbing something from the car while you opened up the place, slipping into fluffy slippers and already slinging your bag up onto a hook, and your coat on a hanger. You stop. Looking about the place, you feel odd. A tingle on the back of your neck and a sudden stiffness of your shoulders. It felt like it was more than just you in the room.

You turn your back to turn the living room light on, a quiet hum of one of Wonwoo’s songs under your breath to try and ease you. A hand falls on your shoulder, heavy and foreign. Spins and pushes you into the wall.

A man, about your age, has a snarl in his eyes. “Tell me you love me. Stop leading me on and tell me the truth!”

You shake your head, sliding upright and backing up into the open. “I- I don't-”

He whirls, glares at the picture of Wonwoo and yourself after a trip to a quaint bookstore and cafe. In a fit of rage, blood rushing into his face, he yells and sweeps it off the hall table, glass shattering. You scream out, covering your ears as your felt shards of glass bounce off your bare calves. He yells again, grabbing you tightly, his grip pressing into your shoulders and shaking you.

“You’ve been looking at me for months. Lying to the world.” He breathes, heavy and desperate, eyes glinting uneasily. “Even your house is fake.”

You shake your head, trying to press yourself through the wall to anywhere but there. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who - how did you get in here? Let me go!”

Everything is swirling and thundering, compounding at once. How did this manic man get into Wonwoo’s house? Where is Wonwoo? Who is he! Now the man shakes you so hard your head thumps into the wall, his mouth ajar so you can see strings of spit lace his mouth. You felt nauseous, bile churning.

“You liar! At the bookstore? You smiled and told me you wanted to see me again. Then you left with this idiot. And then at the signing? Ugh, why am I spelling this out for you - you’re the one doing it! You love me! Hurry up!” He screams.

You cry out again, eyes squeezed shut as you shake your head again and again like trying to physically agitate him from your head. He rattles you again and you croak out a sob, flinching at his sharpness. He shudders breath, shoving you back into a wall, roaring messily at you. It cuts off suddenly and his hands pried free. His hands being the only thing that held you up in your knitted sweater and silly slippers, you slither to the floor, disregarding the glass scattered. With the distance, you open your eyes to see him thrown across the room. Wonwoo, a pile of bags dropped at the door. He rushes him, bony fist flying. Your assailant is laid out on the floor as Wonwoo fixes you with his severe gaze. He helps you right, holding you as he shifts you behind him.

“Baby, call the police.” He murmurs.

Your hands fumble for the phone in his hand, peering wearily at the stalker - yes, that’s what he was - disorientated on the floor. Once you’ve taken it, Wonwoo’s hand laces with your own, squeezing tightly.

“Don't you ever touch my girl again.” You’ve never heard that cold snarl from your Wonwoo before, only in stories from others.

The man groans as you stutter out the address and a plea to hurry. “He-he isn’t armed but he assault - assaulted me.”

“Ma’am are you safe?” The responder says quickly.

You nod before clearing your throat. “Yes. I am.”

The stalker squints at the both of you from the marble tile. “Your girl? You’re crazy. She’s only got eyes for me, don’t you?”

Wonwoo’s eyes glint sharply behind his thin rimmed glasses and even you shy away. He steps in to loom over him, glass crunching underfoot.

“Do not look at her. Do not speak to her. Look at me. If I had my way you’d be a smear on the floor.”

Authorities make their appearance now, two officers running in, two more hanging back at the front door. They swiftly scoop up the intruder and escort him away in handcuffs. Wonwoo is by your side, curled around you as you mutter your statement. It’s brief seeing as it was so short and happened so quickly. Still, feeling the phantom grip of his hands on you has you tremble. Your boyfriend presses dry kisses to the crown of your head, rubbing circles into your back. The officer hands you their contact card and a case number scribbled in cobalt blue, take a few pictures of the fall out and then leave as quickly as they came.

You take a deep shuddering breath, closing your eyes to centre yourself.

“Baby, are you okay?” Wonwoo says softly, so warm.

You let out a broken sob and lean into him. “Why me? I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t flirt or anything.”

He guides you to your cramped peach two-seater sofa, tucking you into his side. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. Some people are just…delusional. They see someone and put things there that aren’t actually there. Parasocial relationships and obsessions.”

You cry out and almost laugh, getting his crisp shirt wet with salty tears. All those big words, as usual. “What now? Are there more like him?” You blubber, muffled into him.

You weren’t ready to face the world properly, see that your house no longer felt like a home. No longer the safe haven. Would that be all you saw now, where your hall table stood. The memory of being harassed and his crazy eyes that never once left you. He didn’t take anything, but you felt robbed. Wonwoo presses more kisses to your hair, your temple, your knuckles twisted up in his collar.

“Honestly? Maybe. So, we’ll install some better security here and whenever we go out from now on, we might need some discreet security to tail us. So not everything we do will be private now. But if it’s to ensure your safety, so be it.”

Ha, always so direct.

You hum and shuffle closer, slinging yourself half over him. The more of him you felt, the better you felt. Safer.

“Thank you. For saving me.”

He scoffs. “Always will.”