#i chose to remain neutral

[bobgoesw00t]

I wanna take a moment to talk about a few things in regards to the comments and discussions this post on twitxter has brought up, as basically 99.99% of the comments are all the same thing over and over and over again.

A. First off, if you plan on boycotting the final season because of the various things Noah Schnapp has been up to in his personal life/social media when it comes to the conflict in Gaza...don't even fucking bother. Stranger Things is on its final season now so there's literally NO POINT IN BOYCOTTING IT AS IT'S ALREADY AT THE FINISH LINE!!!!!!! If this happened even before the last season, then I would understand the need to boycott it, but we're not...we're on the FINAL SEASON....so if you don't want to watch it, please SHUT THE FUCK UP, DON'T WATCH IT, AND LET THOSE OF US WHO WANT TO SEE HOW IT ALL ENDS ENJOY IT!!!!!

B. Seeing as how all of this "boycott the final season" crap is stemming from Noah's stance on the Gaza conflict and that he's a Zionist, all of you dumb fuckers are forgetting one VERY CRUCIAL ASPECT: THE CONFLICT IS ONE OF THE LONGEST (if not THE LONGEST) TUG-OF-WARS BETWEEN RELIGIOUS GROUPS IN THE HISTORY OF OUR PLANET!!! This debate over which religious folk deserves the land has been happening for centuries now, and there are SO many layers to it that it's gotten to the point where unless someone builds a time machine to go back to when the core issue of the conflict happens, witness it and bring back irrefutable proof for all to see...the only real "answer" (if there even is one right now) is that both sides are neither right nor wrong...just in some sort of weird purgatory. Hell, even if someone DID use a time machine to go back and bring proof, there would be a good chunk of people who would disagree with what was brought forth.

C. Noah Schnapp isn't a god...HE'S FUCKING HUMAN AND HUMANS ARE NOT PERFECT!!!!!!! Everyone, AND I MEAN EVERYONE makes mistakes and has their own thoughts on various things that are a part of the world we live in today. Just because ONE PERSON says or does something you don't agree with, and/or their friend/s agree with them or remain friends with them, doesn't mean it's the end of the world. In the event it happens to be a celebrity of a wildly popular show on Netflix, feel free to say your stance on the issue, then please SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! No one is FORCING YOU TO WATCH THE SHOW/MOVIE OR SUPPORT ANYONE WHO WORKS ON IT. Not to mention EVERYONE IN ENTITLED TO THEIR OWN OPINION.

My personal stance on the crap that's happening in Gaza is that as someone who doesn't have all the facts but believes humans should learn to accept one another regardless of any differences we may have...I don't actually have a stance, rather I'm very neutral and find both sides to be at fault. Same thing with Noah Schnapp, I don't know him personally, and the only time I really hear anything about him or other celebs is if they're trending on tumblr and I just randomly happen to check that part of the website. Therefore, I can't agree with his actions, but I also can't condemn them as I don't have all the facts and I really don't care that much about what he does in his personal time.

More people need to learn how to separate celebs from other aspects of life and remember that they're human just like the rest of us, they make mistakes and either learn from them or don't. ...I also feel like people need to avoid social media more often as it tends to be a place where negativity festers into something that can consume you until you're nothing but a toxic husk of who you once were.

Now despite what I first said, feel free to boycott the final season of Stranger Things if you want to, I won't stop you just like you can't stop me from watching it to see how the journey all these characters have been on concludes. Let people make their own decision on if they want to boycott or not, and if they decide not to, respect their decision and don't harass them about how, "THEIR SUPPORTING GENOCIDE" especially when BOTH SIDES ARE GUILTY OF THAT!!!

[1800-lemon-boy]

Friendly reminder that Zöe nightshade was older than Artemis and the first hunter.

<33

[silver-horse]

Yeah. Certainly video game mechanics played a role, they want to make sure that companions can stay with the player regardless of what choices we make. But usually they still express their opinion and you need high approval or pass persuasion checks. That is what shows us their real personality, their real values and what they stand for. For example Zevran speaking up against killing the mages is his “true position” so to speak. We lose some approval but then we can give gifts and companions forget, the story moves on and they still love the warden. We understand that this is just the video game mechanics.

Varric however is a different matter. He is written in a way where all of this makes sense for his character as OP explained. However I would like to add that not only is Varric just as starry-eyed about an evil Hawke, he is actually more starry-eyed! Just like the other companions, Varric expresses an opinion. His position is simply less set in stone, he doesn’t need to be persuaded. But in the end Varric does speak up! and he mildly objects if we support the mages! Meanwhile he expresses his approval if we kill the mages.

He says this to an apostate Hawke who has maxed out friendship with him:

He says to his friend “I’m not sure, maybe you should commit genocide against your own people. Eh. But I’m with you bestie.”

Meanwhile he is very supportive of killing all the mages:

“Defending innocent people, preserving our way of life? This is worth doing.”

“Preserving our way of life” is a line straight up from every conservative politician’s mouth.

Basically Varric’s “true (or original) position” is pro-templar, anti mage revolution, anti mage freedom. His approval in Inquisition suggests that a mage supportive Hawke has shifted his view, still that is a less comfortable world state for Varric.

I think Varric is a very realistic portrayal of the type of guy who has friends who are minorities or friends who have been mistreated in some way in society. However he doesn’t understand their struggles.Those individuals might be his friends, but... well, he is callous to their experiences. And when it comes down to it, he may or may not throw his friends under the bus because their pesky rights are an inconvenience. He doesn’t understand why everyone can’t just get along. That’s what he wants. And he sees this conflict as equal squabbling on both sides. Because he grew up in a world where the status quo has been comfortable for him and therefore “preserving our way of life” is good. To the point where even horrible inhuman acts are not only justified but it’s the right thing to do. As long as that is the “normal thing”, the way it has always been done. Anything else is the strange unknown and causes conflict which he doesn’t want.

(“Defending innocents” (cough cough protecting the children) is a worthy cause because otherwise it’s “helping dangerous people run amok”. Notice that these innocents who need defending from the circle mages during The Last Straw do not exist... the templars are the ones attacking the mages and therefore the mages try to run for their lives, away from the circle. In Varric’s view the innocents who need defending are not the people who are under attack, but future imaginary potential victims who might be harmed if the mages are simply allowed to be free.)  Varric just wants everyone to know their place and play card games together. He doesn’t want anything to change. He goes along with a revolution only out of loyalty towards a good Hawke. That loyalty overrides everything, however he did have an opinion to begin with and that was actually anti-mage freedom. (Contrast that with Isabela who also goes along with whatever Hawke decides out of loyalty because Hawke didn’t hand her over to the arishok. But actually she expresses disgust when attacking the mages “crushing the rebels? how dare they wish for freedom” Her “true position” is pro-mage freedom.)

Honestly something that really affected my view of Varric (and again, I say this with great love for the character) was playing my Terrible Hawke, Emilia, who ends the game an absolute anti-mage fanatic who believes that magic is a curse and it was a blessing that the Maker called Bethany back to His side before she could fall to demons. She is a Hawke who is mainly diplomatic, well-spoken, respected, and absolutely unhinged in her views on magic. She is the Viscount of Kirkwall, and by the time she comes to the Inquisition she's also taken Chantry vows and become an actual templar (after having practiced the discipline off the books for years). She singlehanded kept Kirkwall under Chantry control after Meredith's death. She slaughtered every mage to a one, even the ones who surrendered.

She's Varric's best friend. And he's just as starry-eyed about her in Inquisition as he is about any other Hawke. I love what a deeply unsettling side of Varric that is to see.

She's the best. She's a hero. She saved his city.

[fairuzfan]

Id:

I wouldn't have won The International Women's Media Foundation (@IWMF)'s Courage in Journalism Award 2024 this June if I hadn’t been on the ground reporting events and exposing Israeli flagrant violations under perilous conditions, all while being systematically attacked by supporters of the perpetrators.

Winning a prize for “courage” means being subjected to attacks and choosing to continue your work regardless. However, I regret to say that the very organization that recognized these perilous conditions and awarded me the prize succumbed to pressure and chose to act contrary to courage; they rescinded the award in a decision that would put my life at risk.

In fact, I’m very glad that both my winning the award and its withdrawal have starkly demonstrated the systematic physical and moral attacks Palestinian journalists endure throughout their careers. These threats and character assassinations aim only to silence us and perpetuate the longstanding bias in global media. I have never worked to receive awards, nor have I ever submitted an application to nominate myself. I didn't choose journalism as a profession; I became a journalist after recognizing the extent to which the world overlooks Palestinians’ suffering and opts to conform to Israeli pressures.

Every year, Palestinian journalists are recognized with international awards for their brave reporting under the Israeli occupation and relentless attacks. These accolades honor their courage and dedication to uncovering the truth.

However, each announcement of an award to a Palestinian journalist is systematically followed by extensive smearing campaigns and intense pressure on the awarding organizations from supporters of the Israeli occupation and the Zionist lobby. While some organizations uphold their principles and maintain their decision to honor these journalists, others, regrettably, cave to the pressure and withdraw the prizes.

Instead of recognizing the threats they face and contributing to their protection, a decision to withdraw a prize from a Palestinian journalist in Gaza—where over 150 journalists have been killed by the ongoing Israeli genocide—can further endanger them and increase their risk of targeting.

I have no regrets about any posts or reasons that led to the rescinding of this award, and I will not stop expressing my views. Before being a journalist, I am a Palestinian living under military occupation, a strangling blockade, and genocide in Gaza.

My grandparents were expelled from Jerusalem upon the creation of the state of Israel, and I have been expelled from my home in Gaza during this genocide.

If winning a prize entails enduring and witnessing war crimes while remaining silent, I am not honored to receive any prizes. I will always be objective in my reporting, but I can never be neutral; I will always point out the perpetrators and stand in solidarity with the victims. This is what journalism is truly about.

[mellowyellow236]

The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!

All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.

Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :) All are under the cut.

NRC:

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

My dearest rose, 

You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 

Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 

Yours Truly, 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Trey Clover - 

Prefect, 

Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 

From, 

Trey. 

Cater Diamond - 

Prefect, 

Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 

Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 

- Cay-cay ♦️  

Ace Trapolla - 

Prefect!! 

I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 

Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 

See ya, 

Ace 

Deuce Spade - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 

I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 

From, 

Duece 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

Herbivore, 

Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 

I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 

- Leona 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Hiya, Prefect... 

I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 

Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 

If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.

- Ruggie 

Jack Howl - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 

From, 

Jack 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

My Pearl, 

Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 

With Love, 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Jade Leech - 

Dearest Prefect, 

It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 

Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.

Kind Regards, 

Jade Leech 

Floyd Leech - 

Shrimpy!!!!!! 

You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 

I’m going to squeeze you. 

🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 

🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 

I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 

- Floyd <3333333 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Hello!!!!

I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 

Hugs and kisses, 

Kalim Al-Asim 

P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!

Jamil Viper - 

Dear Prefect,

Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 

See you later, 

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

My Dearest Potato, 

I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 

I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 

I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 

Sincerely, 

Vil Schoenheit 

Rook Hunt - 

Trickster, 

Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 

Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 

Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 

Le Chasseur D'Armour 

Epel Felmeir - 

Prefect, 

I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 

Epel 

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

Prefect, 

Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 

Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 

- Gloomurai 

Ortho Shroud - 

Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 

♡✧( •⌄• ) 

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

•ω• 

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 

I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 

Sent To: PerfectPrefect@email.com 

Date: XX/XX/XXXX 

Return Email: orthoshroud2@email.com 

Diasomnia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

My Dearest Child Of Man, 

If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 

Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 

Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 

Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 

Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)

Beastie, 

Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 

But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 

xoxo, 

Lilia 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Dear Prefect, 

I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 

Best Wishes, 

Silver 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

HUMAN! 

I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 

Sincerely, 

Sebek Zigvolt  

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Prefect... 

When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 

Kitty Kisses, 

Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 

Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)

My Dearest, 

Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 

Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 

Love, 

Neige Leblanche 

Rollo Flamme -

Mon Amour, 

There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 

I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 

I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 

Bonus: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

To Perfect, 

Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•

[pastryfication]

hungary ‘24 | landoscar

pairing: lando norris x gf!reader x oscar piastri

content warnings: me getting out my frustrations about the race 😝 also not proofread!! and maybe a bit weird bc i’ve never written poly before i’m sorry

you were pissed to say the least. this was supposed to be an amazing weekend; you had cleared your calendar, getting the whole weekend off to come support your boyfriends in hungary, and this was how it turned out?

the weekend had started amazing, a 1-2 start for your boys who were both beaming with happiness when you got home to the hotel later. laying between them in bed while they were practically buzzing with excitement for the race was incredible.

the race turning out how it did wasn’t incredible, though . . .

race day had dawned bright and clear. the paddock had buzzed with energy, the air filled with the scent of fuel and the sound of engines revving. you had been standing on the grid, watching the final preparations. lando, starting on pole, had been grinning beneath his helmet, his eyes sparkling with determination. oscar, right beside him in second, exuded a calm confidence that belied his nerves. you had exchanged encouraging words with both, wishing them good luck with the usual pre race kisses.

as the lights went out, the roar of the crowd was drowned out by the scream of twenty engines launching forward.

everything had gone downhill from there.

lando’s bad start, the teams terrible decisions, and finally the call to let oscar pass by lando.

“lando, let oscar through," came the message over the team radio. you watched the screens, holding your breath, waiting for lando to comply. but he didn't. he only pushed harder. lap after lap, he stayed ahead, ignoring the increasingly urgent requests from the pit wall and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

the tension was almost palpable, and when lando finally relented, it was with visible reluctance.

oscar reclaimed the lead, driving flawlessly to the chequered flag, securing his first f1 victory and the garage exploded in celebration. you rushed to congratulate him, your heart bursting with joy for his achievement, almost forgetting the drama on the track in favour of the pure proudness you felt.

you could cry of happiness right then and there. your excitement certainly made up for your boyfriends lack thereof, but there was an undercurrent of unease. lando's face was a mask of forced smiles and tight-lipped politeness. he joined in the celebrations, but his enthusiasm was clearly strained. on the podium, he walked right past oscar, starting his spray on lewis in favour of his best friend. his teammate. his lover. you wanted to stay neutral. you always stayed neutral when it came to track drama, but the light flicker of hurt you saw in the australian’s eyes broke your heart.

later, in the motorhome, the atmosphere was tense. you sat between lando and oscar, trying to bridge the gap. lando was brooding, his silence heavy with unspoken words, while oscar was trying to remain gracious, though his patience was wearing thin. you were in a dilemma. keep the spirit high to celebrate oscar or comfort lando who so clearly needed it? in the end, you chose to address the elephant in the room.

"lando, what's going on?" you asked gently, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

he shrugged it off, avoiding your gaze as he pushed himself further into the couch. "nothing. just tired."

oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. "come on, lando. you know it was the right call. the team made the decision, and you should've respected it."

lando's eyes flashed with anger. "easy for you to say! you weren't the one ordered to give up a position. i was leading!"

"you were leading because of a mistake." oscar shot back, surprisingly aggressive. "it wasn't earned on track, and you know it."

"guys, please," you interjected, trying to calm the rising tempers. "this is supposed to be a happy moment. oscar won his first race. can't we just . . . celebrate that?"

lando's shoulders slumped, his expression softening slightly. "it just . . . it stings, you know?"

oscar nodded, his frustration easing. "i get it. but we're a team, lan. we need to support each other, especially in moments like this."

you turned to hug lando tightly, feeling his tension melt away. "i know it's hard, but you can’t be mad at oscar. be mad at the team. it was their fault. not yours. not oscar’s. the team’s. let's celebrate oscar's win properly without your brooding."

lando took a deep breath, then nodded. "you're right. i'm so sorry, osc. congrats. you really deserved it."

oscar quickly smiled, relief washing over him, joining the hug to hold both of you close to him. "thank you. we're both going to have more chances to win."

the three of you stood there for a moment, the weight of the day's events lifting. finally, lando broke into a genuine smile. "alright, let's go celebrate. oscar's buying the first round."

laughter filled the room, and the tension dissipated completely. lando leapt forward to envelope oscar in another hug that was enthusiastically returned and you smiled at the sight.

the rest of the evening was filled with joy, camaraderie, and the shared thrill of victory, as you clinked glasses and toasted to oscar's success’s. he deserved to celebrate, and celebrate you were gonna do.

[bloodiedrogue]

BLEED YOU DRY (1)

SUMMARY: When you awake to find Astarion attempting to drink your blood, you find yourself making a interesting decision.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 3,273

WARNINGS: Bloodsucking, that's about it?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I'm aware I'm way ahead of schedule for this Haunted Hoedown thing but I'm going to be gone for a few days in the middle of it so I figured I'd get a headstart now to make sure I get every day done but also to build the hype? Maybe?

Basically this is going to be a little twelve part miniseries based on prompts from this writing challenge. I'll make a masterpost either tonight or tomorrow with all the ones I chose, plus some other stuff, so you guys know what's going on!

The prompt for this particular day was "I want to watch you bleed."

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

The squirming tadpole behind your eye is what wakes you up. Its constant movement, wriggling from edge to edge quickly prompts you to groan and palm your eye, attempting to suppress the feeling as you blink through the darkness. It takes a moment to adjust —to feel that twitch of the creature die down— and when it does there’s a sigh of satisfaction that leaves your lips.

Despite how long it’s been, you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the fact that you have a parasite living inside your mind. Even after experiencing the insertion firsthand, you often forget it’s there, looming behind your retinas, awaiting use every time you run into another. Normally it’s so still, barely inching out of place; sitting there, incubating within your thoughts. Tonight though, something’s urging its presence. Keeping it awake as you close your eyes again, scrunching up your face once it moves a second time.

Angrily, you sit up and turn your head, suddenly catching Astarion’s gaze, noticing the open-mouthed grin he offers in response. 

“Shit.”

You narrow your eyes, focusing on his teeth. How bared they are; ready to strike at a moment's notice despite the only food lying around being you. “Were you just about to bite me?” you ask and almost immediately he attempts to play it off as if it were nothing, scoffing and rolling his eyes. 

“I wasn’t going to hurt you if that’s what you’re insinuating. I was only going for a nibble.” 

You can feel your tadpole squirm. He’s telling the truth, albeit for reasons that are more selfish than he lets on. Despite seeming otherwise, he only wants to drink from you for strength —for energy. His desire to kill you is minuscule, lingering in the shadows of his mind for a potentially later day but surprisingly such notions don’t scare you. Astarion may be a bloodthirsty creature but for now, he’s an ally.

“And you didn’t think to just ask first?” You raise a brow at him, watching his expression twist into something bordering between confusion and interest. 

“I’m sorry, just ask?” he parrots, exploring your features and how they remain calm despite the context.  

He was expecting you to be angry. To throw some kind of fit and deny. It’s what any normal person would do, but considering the circumstances, offering up a little blood to build up the strength of someone on the same side is worth more than the annoyance that forms across your face. 

“Yes, like a normal person,” you chastise, taking in the scowl he offers in response. 

His brows furrow at the sound of your words, angling upwards to appear as sinister as possible, and you can’t help but snort. Something about his constant disapproval is almost humorous at this point.

“Normal? Darling, I’m a creature of the night. A blood sucking fiend. A—“

“Vampire, yes, we’re all well aware given the teeth.” You poke at your own canine, tapping the enamel with open lips just as he swallows hard and narrows his eyes. 

“Yes, well, obviously considering such details I thought it inappropriate to ask. People don’t typically agree to such perilous sounding terms,” he says, voice light and airy. Casual, you might say, despite the context. 

“So instead you were just going to go for it?” You raise your brow, a smirk playing across your lips as he rolls his eyes. 

“Seemed like the best possible option… at the time.” 

You offer him a quiet ah, nodding your head as the two of you remain still, watching each other. Trying to gauge how the other is feeling without the use of your tadpoles. 

Based on what you know about Astarion you assume he’s too stubborn to ask. Now that he’s caught, regardless of whether or not he needs the blood, he’ll never find himself in a position to be desperate enough to say those simple little words. Being a man of persuasion, he’ll most likely just talk his way into it —make it seem like the whole thing was your idea in the first place before diving right in. 

It’d be respectable if you weren’t the victim. If it were Wyll or Gale and you were to bear witness to his deceptions, you’d fully support it. Encourage it even if he were to ask your opinion.

Since it’s you though, you can’t help but feel a bit frustrated. Astarion and you have never been particularly friendly. Having only been around each other for a few weeks, all you’ve talked about is the Illithid and how you plan to get rid of it —what you’ll do after it’s gone. But even the latter conversations hardly spark specific details. Mostly they’re just brief mentions of wanting to run away. To become hidden after the war is over. 

You assume someone’s looking for him based on the way he speaks and carries himself. When you’re on the move he hides within the pack, using you all as a shield while he looks around. Always on high alert, his ears twitch at any foreign sound, his eyes dart to meet the faces of anyone you may come across. At night, he’s always the one to keep watch and over time you’ve come to realize it isn’t just because he doesn’t sleep. It’s because he’s looking for someone. 

Even now, as he stands above you, you can see his eyes looking past you to focus on the underbrush. The way they narrow with focus, pushing past your face. He can sense something that you can’t —feel the eyes of some foreign presence staring at the two of you. 

You’re tempted to use the tadpole to find out what exactly it is but quickly refrain once you hear the shuffling of branches behind you followed by Astarion’s breath of relief. 

“You alright?”

His eyes shut for a split second. His chest heaves a single breath and in that moment you’re struck with an odd sense of sympathy. The feeling of pity laces throughout your thoughts as you imagine Astarion’s life before all of this. You imagine it isn’t great. Considering he’s a vampire, there’s probably at least an inkling of trauma there after living, dying and coming back as something other than yourself. No sane person would be the same after that, especially when taking into account all the symptoms. Before his transition, he could do mundane things. Enjoy the pleasantries of life like the sun and sleeping and food. 

Nowadays, all it seems he craves is blood and power. Flesh of whatever he can get his greedy little hands on. The upper hand in any possible argument. Both make what Astarion is on the surface, but looking at him now, wondering what else lies behind that thick, defensive coat of first impressions, you know there are other things. Nicer ones he refuses to showcase. 

They’re the details of his life before everything. Traits reserved only for himself, and for some uncharacteristic reason, you’re tempted to find out what they are. 

“If you need to…” Trailing off, you feel your stomach twist at the realization of what you’re about to offer. The consequences are high, maybe even too high, but perhaps the benefits could be deemed higher. At this point, you’re certain no one else will give him what he needs. They’re all too noble or guarded to allow Astarion, regardless of his current allegiance, to drink. 

They don’t trust him. And even though you find yourself in the same boat, feeling the skepticism of your words start to echo in the back of your mind, you know it’s the most logical thing to do. Sure, it may not be the right one. By a long shot, it’s probably one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had, but you know deep down that it’s necessary for your survival. To ensure that, when all this blows over and the potential of you going your separate ways occurs, Astarion doesn’t view you as an enemy.

“If you need to drink, you can.” 

His eyes widen only a bit. Just enough for you to notice the slight shock that spreads across his features. “I can?” 

There’s a reluctance you feel begin to bubble up but instead of acting on it you merely shut it down, nodding your head. “Yes, but only a little. Don’t want you bleeding me dry before this whole thing is all over.” 

Somehow that makes him laugh. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.” 

You force yourself not to smirk as he lies through his teeth. Knowing him, he’d suck you dry if it weren’t for the fact that there’s safety in numbers. “Unfortunately for me this isn’t a dream.” 

“Fair point,” he replies, taking a short step forward. After that he slowly begins to crouch towards the ground, watching you closely —focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as his face falls mere inches from yours. “For now though, I promise to do no such thing.”

“And you’re certain you’ll keep it?”  

He hums, a grin pulling at his cheeks. “For now,” he muses. “In the future though…”

He’s so close you can feel his breath. Hot and heavy puffs pushed through a low, far too sultry tone of voice that has you pressing your lips together in a thin line. 

Out of everyone, Astarion’s always been the most intriguing. The one you’ve had this constant back and forth with, debating whether or not to approach or run. Aside from the obvious vampirism, it’s quite obvious that he isn’t like the others. From what you’ve been able to piece together, he doesn’t have a cause. A God or some sort of leader he’s willing to lay down the law for. He’s not noble like Wyll or faithful like Shadowheart. He’s just Astarion. A bloodied wolf all by his lonesome, following the rest of the pack. 

You’re sure he has desires like the rest of them. Wants and needs that’ll inevitably be gifted to him at the end of this —so long as you all survive. Like everyone else, he has a purpose in mind, but what that purpose is is unbeknownst to you thanks to the charm he offers in replacement of the truth. Because of this, he feels almost like a treasure chest. A trove of untold riches kneeling before you, tempting you to open. 

“I’m sure the future will have us far enough away from each other where that doesn’t happen, so I won’t worry.” 

Almost immediately, he can tell you’re fishing for information. The way his brow slightly upturns and the flirtatious grin across his face transitions into more of a smirk. It makes you internally curse, knowing that no matter how hard you try you’ll never beat him at his own game. His way with words is too precise. Too calculated, even for someone like you who grew up convincing people of your lies. 

“You never know. Perhaps after this is all over I’ll follow you. Linger amongst the shadows until the time is right.” 

You can’t tell if he’s kidding. His voice is too convincing to be completely certain, so you merely roll your eyes. “Yes, well, if you do decide to drink me to death, be sure to make it quick.” 

He clicks his tongue, leaning slightly further in. “What would be the fun in that though?”

There’s an unfamiliar ache inside your chest. A rupture of pain that wreaks havoc against your ribcage, pounding. Now that he’s close to you, you can assume it’s always been there but because he’s so good at posing a distraction you weren’t fully aware of it until now. 

“Fair point,” you repeat his words back to him, deeply inhaling just as the tadpole suddenly shifts in tandem with your chest. Ebbing and flowing across your inner eye in time with your shaky breath, you notice Astarion pick up on it, humming knowingly. 

“You fear me, don’t you?” 

Despite the answer being blatantly obvious, your lips remained sealed. Closed off, regardless of the truths the rest of your body spills. 

“It’s quite alright, darling. It’s normal. Creatures of the night are hardly meant to be trifled with.” 

He’s in your face now, a mere hair’s length away, once again baring his teeth. Against your lips, you can feel the movement of his words pushing through the air, coating you in further reluctance as the withheld breath inside you finally releases. As it hits his face, he blinks and pulls away. Ever so slightly giving you the space you need to recollect your thoughts and swallow back the fear. 

He’s terrifying. Even you have to admit that. Unlike Lae’zel he’s more calculated in his intimidation, opting to pull you in —to make you feel comfortable— before he ultimately strikes. Because of this, his threats feel more authentic. Less like simple tactics used to get you to back off. They aren’t words of warning —they’re promises. Declarations of a moment he’s more than willing to make a reality if given the chance.

“Do you want my blood or not, Astarion?”

Your patience is thin. Your chest is in pain and while the tadpole inside unwittingly reaches out to his, driving you both closer as he instructs you to lie back down and get comfortable, all you can feel is temptation. Desire. 

Upon resting your head, you feel the connection between you grow stronger. Inside, your head flashes with icy sensations that trickle down towards your neck. Small tremors of what’s to come as Astarion positions himself around you. 

When he leans down, there’s a moment where you think of retracting. This is all too sudden, you think. A mistake made in hopes of gaining the upper hand. Just moments ago you were made unaware of the full potential of Astarion’s charms, but now that you’re lying beneath him, awaiting the moment he sinks his teeth into your flesh, you can feel the regret begin to build.

“It won’t last.”

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you look to see him staring over top of you. Both of his arms are planted on either side of your head, bending at the elbow so that he’s low and close. “I’m sorry?”

“The pain. It won’t last long, I promise.”

Strangely enough, he sounds sincere. Not that that means much when a good portion of the words that exit his lips are lies. Still though, instead of returning to that previous headspace you merely breathe and nod, waiting for the moment the tadpole’s connection vibrates with confirmation and Astarion begins to lean in. 

It’s a slow process. Above you, his shoulders shift, pushing his arm to cup the back of your head and expose your neck. Against your skull, Astarion tightens his grip to steady the endless thoughts that race through your mind as you share a glance. It’s small but important. A moment of recognition that tonight is not the night you die at his hand, but merely a preview of what might come if your paths wrongfully cross. 

At the last second, you give him a curt nod and feel him dip, running the tip of his tongue along your jugular before the presence of teeth poke holes through your flesh. At first, it's painful. The blood that’s sucked through your veins pulsates through the open wound in stinging waves as you feign a soft groan. Then Astarion’s grip around your head tightens at the sound, pushing you further into his mouth. Further into the euphoria he takes as the feeling transcends into something numbingly cold. 

Your eyes flutter shut at his continued feed. The feeling in your hands begins to fade even as you somehow find them moving to Astarion’s back, one of them pressing against his shoulder, the other finding purchase in his locks. At that point, you can feel Astarion moan against you, desperation filling his every cell as his teeth shift further into your neck, prompting your eyes to shoot open. 

He’s going to kill you at this rate. To drink you drier than an insect's husk, so, through half-conscious pushes, you tell him to stop. To let go and to keep his promise as you grip the roots of his hair and pull. 

As it happens you see his eyes shift to yours. They’re blown out completely, the whites of his eyes stained red to match his ruby pupils. For a moment, they remain locked to your half-lidded ones, honing in on the way they start to flutter again before you see them tightly close. Then he finds himself ripping away and gasping for air. Coughing through the thick blood that coats his tongue as he stares down at your neck.

The wound is only slightly gaping. Two well-defined puncture wounds sit side by side, but at the moment you can’t feel them. Instead, there’s still only numbness. A space of nothing that lingers between your head and chest, making you shift to sit up and place your hand there, finding more blood. 

“See? Over before you know it, right?” He laughs but all you do is glare. 

“You almost killed me.”

“Ah, yes, but notice the key word being almost.” 

If you weren’t so heavy-headed you’d punch him in the throat. Maybe strangle him if you could get the right angle. “Yes, fine, you’ve had your fun. Now, do you need anything else or am I fine to pass out now?” 

You expect him to say something else. To make some quip about the safety measures of post-bloodsucking, but he doesn’t. Instead, he merely inches closer, staring at you as he reaches for your bloodied hand and pulls it close. 

Once again, your tadpole wriggles against your will. Throughout your skull, it practically dances as Astarion glances down, taking two of your fingers into his mouth with careful precision. If anyone were to see they’d most likely faint at the mere lewdness of it. Frozen in time, your body refuses to move as he laps the blood off your skin, staring at you through hooded eyes that make you want to scream.

You’ve never been in this kind of position before. Sure, you’ve experienced many kinds of intimacy, both sexual and not, but somehow this feels different. Forbidden, in a sense. As if sharing this moment is not only wrong but also against some sort of ethical code. 

At first, you wonder if it’s because blood isn’t necessarily something that’s given. Always taken. In battle, it’s ripped from your skin through the means of injury. Punctured or sliced out of you at the hands of a sword. No bond goes along with it. No mutual agreement that any life will remain once the deed is over. 

But then you begin to think of Astarion. The elven vampire now infected with the Illithid. Like you, he’s been changed. Subtly shifted into something new. Overall, your transformation isn’t nearly as different as his. Before the infection, you could still enjoy the pleasantries of being human, but still, there’s this connection that draws you towards him. It makes its presence known within the tadpole. Throughout the movements that echo in your minds as Astarion cleans the last of the blood away, looking at you with soft eyes.

“I consider this a gift, you know,” he says, dropping your hand, and moving away to stand without so much as a thought. 

You blink back your confusion, trying your best to focus on the genuine-looking smile that appears as he takes a few steps backwards, never breaking eye contact until he telepathically adds I won’t forget it then stalks away. 

[burst-of-iridescent]

yall need to stop this “but katara choose aang!” nonsense because a) idk how she personally told you that when she doesn’t exist and b) even if katara were a real woman, this is some choice feminism bs that willfully ignores a lot of the social pressures and dynamics within heterosexual relationships that kat.aang as a relationship taps into both within the world of atla & as a narrative.

the creators themselves have alluded to the fact that katara & aang’s relationship draws from the trope of a younger boy pining after an older, more mature woman who doesn’t give him the time of day at first but is eventually brought around with his persistence and determination to win her heart.

and this dynamic bleeds through into the show itself, especially when aang is talking to people about katara. he is told multiple times that she’ll come around because he’s the avatar and that all he needs to do is not give up. the social dynamics of the kat.aang relationship even within atla reflects the prevalent narrative around straight relationships in our world: if you keep trying, the girl you like will obviously give you a chance eventually, because how could she not?

that’s troubling enough but then comes the second half of book 3, and now this narrative isn’t reflected just in those around aang, but in aang himself. what began as a sweet, harmless adolescent crush warps into something more dangerous, more familiar: entitlement. the aang of ember island players is one who demands katara’s love, not one who wishes for it. just look at the language used here:

i thought we were going to be together, but we’re not.

why don’t you know?

when is the right time?

the line delivery here is frustrated, almost accusing — this is not the way you talk to a girl you claim to love. this is the irritation of a long-promised reward that continues to be denied, something you wanted but cannot yet possess. this is eerily, intensely reminiscent of real-world gender dynamics, and it continues to be reinforced when katara responds according to the same gendered script:

aang, i don’t know.

we’re in the middle of a war. this isn’t the right time.

i’m sorry but right now, i’m just a little confused.

katara gives neither a yes nor a no but a neutral, noncommittal in-between. her tone and body language are apologetic yet clearly tense, uncomfortable — dancing that fine line most women are familiar with, of having to let down a man yet protect his feelings at the same time.

it’s one thing for the narrative of kat.aang to be misogynistic from a doylist perspective, but when the same applies within a watsonian analysis as well, that’s a far bigger problem. when you set up this dynamic for kat.aang in the show and double down on it as their last romantic interaction, you cannot then remove the implications that follow when katara inexplicably, wordlessly, obediently kisses aang in the finale:

that she loved him because she felt she had to.

because that is the underlying societal expectation of this particular dynamic, the same expectation the show itself has set up within the advice aang receives: that a woman’s affections are owed to the man who fights for them, and if he fulfils his obligations in pursuing her, she will fulfill hers in turn by dutifully rewarding him.

as with women in the real world, no choice katara makes in her world is free of the delicate, insidious entanglement of social pressures and gendered expectations that underlie and drive those choices, even subconsciously.

so yes — katara chose aang. but as the show ends with no insight on her part as to the nature of this choice, the question still remains: did she choose him freely, joyfully, unfettered and unburdened by the weight of expectation? or did she choose him as the girl who always did what had to be done, who took on duties that she was too young to shoulder for the sake of the people she loved, who could never let down the child she fiercely, lovingly protected from the moment she met him?

[thesecondhandwoman]

FRACTURED STEEL

Sevika x f!reader

(Part One)

Summary: Without telling you, Sevika had led an attack, ordered by Silco, and resulted in the injuries/death of many people you and her had created bonds with. Ultimately, you confronted her about it, which resulted in a brutal, heartbreaking argument.

The relentless hum of the Undercity filled the dimly lit bar, a symphony of grinding machinery and muffled voices. Sevika sat hunched over her drink, her metal arm resting heavily on the counter. She looked like she belonged here, her broad shoulders casting long shadows under the flickering neon lights, her sharp eyes darting over the room to catch the slightest hint of trouble. But tonight, something weighed heavier than usual.

She took another swig of her drink, her gaze distant. The sharp burn of the liquor did little to dull the knot tightening in her chest. She had faced battles, betrayals, and the constant chaos of Silco’s regime, but none of it compared to the pain clawing at her now.

Because of you.

The door to the bar creaked open, and the noise inside momentarily died. Sevika’s grip on her glass tightened. She didn’t need to look up to know it was you. She could feel it—the unmistakable charge in the air when you were near.

Your boots echoed as you stepped inside, your soaked clothes clinging to your frame. The rain had done nothing to hide the fire in your eyes, though; they burned with an intensity that made Sevika’s heart lurch.

You stopped a few feet from her, your arms crossed tightly as if holding yourself together. “Sevika,” you said, your voice low and sharp, cutting through the haze of alcohol and smoke.

Sevika turned to face you, her expression neutral, but her eyes betrayed her. There was a flicker of guilt there, barely masked by her usual steeliness. “You shouldn’t be here,” she muttered, her voice gravelly.

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not staying.”

The tension between you was palpable, a cord stretched so tight it could snap at any moment. Your gaze bore into hers, demanding something—an explanation, an apology, anything—but Sevika remained silent, her jaw clenched.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you said finally, your voice trembling. The anger in your tone couldn’t quite mask the hurt beneath it. “You knew what Silco was planning, and you didn’t say a damn word.”

Sevika didn’t flinch, but her grip on the counter tightened. She had been expecting this confrontation ever since the fallout from the last raid. It had been brutal, the kind of destruction that left nothing but ash and corpses in its wake. And you… you had been caught in the crossfire.

“You think it’s that simple?” she said, her voice low and dangerous.

“It is that simple!” you snapped, taking a step closer. “People died, Sevika. Good people. People who trusted you, who trusted me. And you just… let it happen?”

Sevika stood, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, you stepped closer, your voice rising as you continued. “You could’ve warned us. You could’ve told me. But you didn’t. Why?”

Her lips parted as if to answer, but no words came. The truth was, she didn’t know how to explain it. Loyalty to Silco had been ingrained in her, a survival mechanism as much as a belief. But with you, it was different. You weren’t just another piece in the machine. You were her anchor, her safe harbor in a world that never stopped spinning. And yet, she had failed you.

“I did what I had to do,” she said finally, her voice flat.

You stared at her, stunned. “What you had to do?” you echoed, your voice breaking. “You didn’t have to do anything, Sevika. You could’ve made a choice. But instead, you chose him.”

Sevika’s expression hardened, a shield against the guilt threatening to consume her. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” she said, her tone sharp. “The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve had to do just to survive—”

“And that justifies this?” you interrupted, your voice rising. “It justifies standing by while people like Benji and Mara—people we cared about—were slaughtered?”

She flinched at the mention of their names, but she quickly masked it with anger. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” she growled.

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “No, you don’t. But I thought… I thought we meant something to each other.” Your voice softened, and for a moment, Sevika thought she could see the cracks in your armor. “I trusted you, Sevika. I loved you.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and for the first time, she couldn’t meet your gaze. Her silence was deafening, and it spoke volumes.

You took a shaky breath, wiping at your eyes. “I guess that’s on me,” you said, your voice trembling. “For thinking you were someone I could count on. For thinking you were better than this.”

“Don’t,” Sevika said, her voice low and strained. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” you shot back, your voice raw. “Hold you accountable? Make you face the fact that you let people die because you were too much of a coward to stand up to Silco?”

Sevika’s fist slammed against the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. “You think I wanted this?” she snarled, her voice cracking. “You think I don’t hate myself for it? I didn’t have a choice, damn it!”

“There’s always a choice,” you said softly, the fire in your voice replaced by something colder. “You just didn’t choose me.”

Her chest ached as she watched you turn and walk toward the door. The sight of your retreating figure felt like a knife twisting in her gut, but she couldn’t bring herself to call out to you. What could she say that would make any of this better?

The door slammed shut behind you, and Sevika was left alone with the weight of her choices. She sank back onto her stool, her head in her hands. The bar around her seemed quieter now, the hum of the Undercity distant and hollow.

She reached for her drink, but her hand froze halfway. The thought of numbing herself to this pain felt wrong, like another betrayal. She didn’t deserve the comfort.

For the first time in years, Sevika felt powerless. The steel in her arm, the strength in her body—it all meant nothing if she couldn’t protect the one person who had made her feel human. And now, you were gone.

Note: Part two will be on the following post.

[lilacxquartz]

JJK x Reader: What they would do for your birthday

included: sukuna, uraume, kenjaku & mahito

tags/themes: drabbles, fluff, slightly suggestive, slight body horror for mahito, 500-1000 words per character

ao3 link • masterlist • mdni

a/n: levelling up this month so why not a lil drabble post 💥 i’ll write one up for the other chars next time

Sukuna

You had been officially with Sukuna for about a year now and have lived together with him for about half of that duration.

Therefore, it was only a matter of time before you ended up spending your birthday with him.

Or so you thought.

Waking up, you were surprised to find the bed completely empty and utterly devoid of his presence. Instead, Uraume stood in the doorway with a neutral look on their face, entirely unphased by you being partially undressed with the covers only concealing half of your otherwise bare body.

It took you a while to adjust to their unwavering stare before you noticed that they were holding onto something.

At first, you couldn’t help but consider the possibility that perhaps Sukuna had arranged for a gift to be dispensed at their hands rather than to deliver it himself. However, the longer you both stared each other down, the less likely that seemed to be the case.

Stepping forward, Uraume snapped open a roll of measuring tape in their hands, the object making a tight whipping sound, “Your measurements, please.”

Blinking, you tried to process their request.

“It would be wise if you could cooperate with me,” they added, piling onto your strained silence.

“Hold on a sec,” you murmured, “let me just get dressed—“

“—I really don’t mind,” they replied stiffly, “nor do I care.”

“I care, a-alright?” you partially stammered, feeling your face warm up under their eyes. Curse Sukuna for requesting that you sleep unclothed. “Just step out for a moment. …Please?”

With a weary eye roll, Uraume complied with your request.

Quickly slipping into a tank top and a pair of underwear, you awkwardly cleared your throat a couple of times to signal that you were ready.

As they walked back inside, they swiftly manoeuvred around you, looping the measuring tape around your arms and waist with calculated precision as you stood there with slowly building discomfort.

“S-so… what’s this for?” you asked.

“For lord Sukuna,” they quietly replied while taking a step back, their eyes closing for a moment as though to make a mental note, “a request of his so that I can make some… adjustments.”

You nervously laughed in response in an attempt to lighten the mood, “You make it sound so ominous.”

Uraume however did not reciprocate, leaving you alone in the bedroom where you were left to gather what remained of your throughts for a good couple of hours. In that time, you chose to take it as easy as possible in fearful anticipation for what Sukuna might have had in store for you.

When the time finally arrived for him to make his grand appearance, you were sitting in bed half awake against the headboard, sleepily browsing your phone.

Sukuna’s footsteps were methodical as he approached you, holding onto what appeared to be neatly folded fabric. His pointed fingernails lightly threaded around the cloth, seeming careful not to tear through the material.

Warily, you sat up and steeled yourself, unsure as to what to expect all the while he extended his arms, offering you what you were certain to be a gift.

Before you could say anything however, he promptly cut you off with a disapproving tone, “You will refrain from getting sentimental at my offering. I’m doing this out of pure etiquette.”

You blinked at him with a confused arched brow as your mouth slightly hung ajar. Thinking nothing of it, you carefully unfolded the cloth, unfurling the creases and gently spreading out a robe similar to the one he often wore.

Unable to resist a smile, you couldn’t help but ask in a teasing tone, “Did you just give me a matching kimono? Are we really matching? That’s so adora—“

“—cease, the rags you otherwise wear are simply… unacceptable, that’s all,” he huffed in a curt response, seeming displeased with your remark. “This is more so to please me than it is for you to enjoy.”

Your smile continued to grow as his words went right over your head. No matter how much he would continue to deny it, he got you something personal—something purposefully commissioned for you to wear that matched what he had.

Attempting to further taunt him for being soft, you opened up your mouth to tempt the idea. However he quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked it towards him as a playful threat, his voice low and full of warning, “Don’t push your luck, brat. You’ll try this on and let me see how it sits on you.”

Stifling your mockery for now, you quietly obeyed his word without further question to which he released you to do so. You punched one arm at a time through the kimono while he helped you ease into it; his eyes fixated intently on how you wore it, silently judging how you adapted to wearing the cloth.

“Perfect,” he whispered under his breath, although the annoyance he felt prior was steadily returning the longer you stared at him with that irritating smile, “again, don’t mistake this gift as an act of kindness. I’m simply ensuring that you dress the way I’d prefer.”

“Sure,” you replied with a sarcastic undertone.

You couldn’t lie though, the material was perfectly soft against your skin. It felt like wearing weightless silk that both cooled yet somehow warmed your body.

And despite the coldness that he continued to deliver you with his pointed stare, there was a flicker of something else in the depth of his eyes. Perhaps it was care, no matter how much he denied being unable to feel such an emotion.

Or perhaps it was longing… or a subtler form of affection that you didn’t quite understand.

Whatever it was, the gift was a token of his claim towards you—for you to wear something he did too, to present to the world that you were in fact truly his.

Which in his eyes was the most meaningful gift that he could ever give.

Uraume

Your interactions with Uraume were always a hit or a miss, at least initially. Slowly, you grew to appreciate their company over the last couple of years and during more recent times, the pair of you had blossomed into a relationship.

Taking such a big step forward was a challenge for you both, but you did come to value the way they showed affection—no matter how subtle it always was.

Together, you lived on a property not too far from Sukuna’s residence. They were always available at a moment’s notice for his every whim and need, so often times you were left to spend the evenings alone and when your birthday finally rolled around, you didn’t expect anything less.

However, much to your surprise, Uraume seemingly got off much earlier than you had anticipated, arriving home just before it was too dark. Just before you were too tired to stay up for their company.

“You’re home early,” you said, greeting them with an acknowledging nod as they lingered in the doorway—both hands clasped onto a box that they held onto for dear life.

As they nodded back, you became curious about the contents and gently placed your phone onto the sofa to inspect what they were carrying. Carefully, you trailed off to where they stood, looking down ever so slightly while they figured out how to address you.

“…Today is a significant day for you,” they spoke up at last, their hands slowly extending as they attempted to part with the box.

You grabbed onto it, securing it at parallel ends.

“Correct,” you slowly nodded.

A moment of silence had passed before Uraume continued on with what they wanted to say, “As such, I have brought you something as a gift. Please open it carefully.”

Nodding once more, you heeded their request and placed the box onto the breakfast table, sitting on a chair and began to open up the box. Slowly, you unloaded a fine china tea set with a delicate touch.

“Is it acceptable?” Uraume asked.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you whispered, carefully inspecting each and every single fine detail, seemingly hand painted onto the dishes.

“I used to have a similar set, way back then,” they added, “although I couldn’t find the exact original.”

“You have incredible taste either way,” you complimented.

Uraume’s lips curled slightly, looking away for a second as you praised them,

“Is it… acceptable?” they asked you again, wondering if it was a gesture that you enjoyed or not. Uraume didn’t like it when things were sugarcoated, preferring a blunt or clear response instead.

“Yes,” you replied, “I love it.”

For Uraume to not only consider your interest but to also add a personal flair and also locate something potentially rare and nostalgic to them was an incredible gesture to you.

Seeming pleased, Uraume continued, “I could prepare you some tea then, if you’d like. You should be sleeping soon, so a cup might be nice.”

“I’d love that,” you replied.

“Then please sit tight,” they smiled, “allow me to treat you as you deserve.”

Kenjaku

Going to sleep at Kenjaku’s side and waking up alive the next day was a miraculous accomplishment each and every single time. It was such a relieving feeling, that you almost found yourself feeling thankful that on your birthday, you woke up feeling perfectly fine without a hint of unwelcome surprise.

No suspicious incisions, no missing organs—you were fine, all fine. Just fine…!

Yet as you left the bed and saw a note sitting at the doorstep to the entrance of the bedroom, you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.

You warily picked it up, scanning over the surface of the paper:

‘Happy birthday. Your gift awaits.’

As you then unfolded the note completely, you found that there was more written on the inside; an unnamed address without any context.

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself for whatever it was. You didn’t want to go anywhere unnecessary today, yet here he was, directing you somewhere potentially strange.

Chucking on your usual outfit—something lazy for running errands, you inputted the address into your GPS app and began to march towards the mysterious direction.

You supposed that you were lucky to be dating this man during the modern times, where you at least had modern technology to accurately guide you to wherever it was he directed you. Had this been just decades earlier with a paper map, you might have genuinely lost the single shred of sanity that you had left.

And upon reaching the address in question, you stepped inside what appeared to be an old antique shop. Inside stood an old man who trembled as he asked for your name, seeming equal parts nervous and relieved as he handed you a note with a key folded inside.

Sighing, you thanked the man and parted the key from the paper, reading more of his forsaken words:

‘Unlock compartment #51 and retrieve the contents.’

Doing just that, you asked the man if he knew what the note was talking about and with a strained nod, he led you to a small room filled to the brim with small drawers dotted with little key slots. You supposed that this antique shop somehow doubled as an old post office perhaps, given the worn state of the lockers.

You braced yourself for whatever you were about to find in the allocated compartment, frowning as you retrieved a small box wrapped in paper. Inside, was an even smaller box, although completely metal with a cap on it and to your lacking surprise, another note.

“Oh for the love of—“ you muttered as your eyes focused on the new piece of paper:

‘Return home and loudly close the door. Break the seal of the case and place it onto the counter.’

With an almost exasperated groan, you stormed back to your shared home and did exactly as he instructed—feeling genuinely unsure as to why you were torturing yourself on what appeared to be a scavenger hunt for what gave him the audacity to do such a thing.

You stared at the activated case with a narrowed gaze, half expecting the damned thing to blow up. It was surely not too promising as smoke seeped through the narrow ventilation slots and as a loud beeping noise played, but then you smelled something pleasant.

Kenjaku then materialised seemingly out of nowhere, jolting you with unanticipated surprise as he swooped in to disassemble the case, unveiling a small cake of some kind that he then took a bite out of, without offering you a single crumb.

“…Excuse me?” you asked, staring at him in disbelief.

“I haven’t had one of these for centuries,” he replied, his mouth slightly muffled as he chewed.

You continued to stare at him, “And why did you make me go through all of that?”

Initially he curiously hummed but then smiled upon finishing up the confection, “So that I could give you a gift that you wouldn’t forget. A pleasant memory.”

“I didn’t find it very pleasant…” you sulked.

Kenjaku simply continued to smile as he patted your head, messing up your hair in the process, “But it was definitely unforgettable, right?”

“I… I guess so?” you reluctantly supposed.

“Then, consider that to be my gift to you,” he replied, “a day of intrigue, but also enrichment.”

“T-thank you?” you replied in a state of quickly growing confusion; completely unsure of what was even happening.

Seeming satisfied, Kenjaku retreated from you as he slinked back into what was his study, “You’re welcome,” he sang before disappearing into the room.

All the while you could do nothing but simply stand there, confused yet also… somehow fulfilled?

Mahito

You weren’t sure how, but you managed to find yourself entangled in Mahito’s personal web. You weren’t sure as to why this strange cursed spirit seemed to spare you, but you were starting to wish that he hadn’t, given how often he popped into your own home.

You tried just about everything to keep him out, but he was just too damn determined. It was on a nightly basis that he made it into a routine; somehow breaching your barricaded doors and boarded up windows to routinely appear in your bedroom.

You could always tell when he was there, too.

Initially he gave you the creeps as he lingered in the shadows of your dark bedroom, but slowly he became something to simply just expect.

And with the all too familiar tapping of his knuckles against the wall, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed as he paid you yet another visit against your will.

Flashing on the lights, you bathed the once dark room in a blinding glow and there he was; stood idly up against your wall, waiting for you to notice him.

“Miss me?” he asked, leaning ever so slightly forward which caused his silver locks to sway.

You groaned into your pillow, turning away from him, mumbling something just coherent enough for him to parse, “I’m about to go to sleep. Go away.”

“Sleep? How boring~” he mocked in a jovial tone. “Especially on such a special day.”

You reluctantly acknowledged that it was indeed your birthday, choosing to push down the curiosity you had in mind with how on earth he managed to obtain such knowledge to begin with.

“Correct,” you begrudgingly replied, “so can my present be for you to leave me alone?”

Mahito simply laughed in response, a shrill and mocking sound escaping his lips. It always bothered you how expressive his features were yet how vacant his eyes seemed to be.

“Silly!” he exclaimed. “That would be rude of me, now wouldn’t it?”

“…The opposite, actually,” you mumbled.

Mahito pushed himself off of the wall and made his way to sit by your side while you were still in bed. He made a point of pulling off your blanket away from you and throwing the pillows off to the side—forcing you to whether you wanted to or not, to acknowledge his existence.

However, before you could react any further, his bare fingers brushed against your forehead with a strange, almost alien sensation that followed.

It felt like a headache of some sort but you couldn’t quite figure it out just yet.

Something was simply just… off.

Warily, both of your hands felt around your scalp, feeling something pointed and sharp spearing out of your head. In an attempt to get it off of you, you seemed to make the pain worse.

Such a realisation that he might have altered your body filled you with a deep sense of dread and that wasn’t a feeling you were particularly ready to accept.

“W-what did you just do…?” you asked with a trembling voice.

Mahito clapped his hands together in delight, seeming thoroughly amused at the sight before him. His eyes gleamed with pure excitement as he traced the air with a pointed finger, drawing an outline of your figure.

“Just a little something to get you into the party spirit,” he hinted with a sense of excitement that was just barely contained, “why not look into the mirror and see for yourself?”

Albeit reluctantly, you got out of bed and padded your way to the standing floor mirror that you had in the corner of your room. You weren’t quite sure what to expect, but upon seeing a literal organic mass spearing from the top of your head, it certainly wasn’t that.

The longer you stared at it, the more uneasy you felt.

The very sight of it alone made you feel nauseated.

“G-get it o-off…!” you barely choked out, the volume of your voice croaking out as nothing more than a whisper.

Mahito’s grin then grew wider, “Not yet, birthday girl. How about some gratitude for your very own built in party hat?”

Surrendering to his terms under the implication that he would undo such a ridiculous alteration to your body, you managed to sputter out that could have resembled coherent words.

“Th-tha-thank y-you, Ma-mahito.”

Yet, the patch faced spirit didn’t seem satisfied with your attempt at all, tilting his head off to the side as though to indicate disappointment.

“Let’s try again,” he requested with a feigned sulk, “with a little bit more enthusiasm, perhaps?”

“Th-thank you!” you blurted out, although still sounding more horrified than grateful.

“That’s better,” Mahito cheered on, his personality rebounding in a split second, “but still not quite good enough,” he added on, “one last time with the right amount of passion? Unless you’d rather I keep it permanently like that?”

“Thank you for this incredible gift, Mahito!” you exclaimed, practically shouting as your both your voice as well as your dignity left your body.

Seeming genuinely pleased, Mahito ran his fingers by your head once again before returning you back to your original form. Not only were you right as rain, but he also gave you a good minute to compose yourself, waiting for you to scold him.

“What was that…?” you huffed.

“A magic trick for your birthday party,” he beamed, charading the flick of a wand, “a gift to get you into the birthday mood!”

“Oh, I’m in a mood alright,” you sighed.

“Not to worry,” he announced after yet another moment of painful silence, his sudden movement jolting you, “I’m going to leave you alone for now. So goodnight, better be thankful or else I’ll bite tonight~!”

Your eye twitched as he continued to taunt you with the almost burdening reminder that regardless of his promised absence, that he would come crawling back into your life the very next day.

Perhaps however, you should be thankful that he only seemed to want to rile you up rather than to torture you.

So maybe that much was a gift in itself than anything else.

>>> more birthday jjk drabbles

[littlejuicebox]

My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

[lizdive]

saw ur inbox is open so i jumped right into the opportunity 🤭 just recently discovered ur blog and AUGH i love your writing!! the lack of platonic stuff is a CRIME.. 💔

could i request something with aventurine being an older (adoptive) brother to teen reader? if you want some extra lore, the ipc basically found the reader and wanted to use their powers for themselves cuz theyre like- crazy op- 😭 (reincarnation of an aeon typa shit) so they placed the reader into aventurine's care bcuz he was the only person they weren't hostile towards-

SORRY THIS GOT A LITTLE LONG ?! you don't need to use the extra lore if you dont want to btw! i just put it there :3

can be either hcs or a oneshot/drabble, u can choose!! >_<

please and thank u!!!! (ゝω・´★)

YOU’RE SO SWEET YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME ILUSM ☹️🩷🤍 Aventurine is my everything I love when people send me reqs about him he’s never left my team since I’ve gotten him 😭 ALSO I LOVE THE EXTRA LORE I LOVE UR BRAIN LEMME KISS IT MWAH 💋 tysm for requesting <33 if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo this 🫶

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" + "they/them" used to refer to the reader ,, reader is a teenager but is implied to be ancient ,, reader is implied to be a part of tayzzyronth — aeon of the propagation — and can be up for interpretation, however they do have swarm abilities ,, i did some research on tayzzyronth however there may be things that are not accurate or do not align with canon as tayzzyronth and the swarm is very confusing ,, reader grows a hatred for qlipoth — aeon of the preservation and their followers aka the ipc ,, platonic relationships ,, ipc activities as usual ,, penacony mission at the end ,, i feel like i derived from og request i’m sososo sorry ,, ending is cringe ngl ,, this is not proofread so ignore typos

Bugs, insects, flies — you do not know what these creatures are referred to as. You do not know of their origin, and you do not know if you are one of them taking a different form. They treat you as if you are one of them and protect you like you are their ruler.

The planet you reside on is dark. There is no other being except for these creatures that swarm you like you are their creator and their savior. You rarely move. Your cheek has grown accustomed to the cracked grounds of this wasteland as you slumber for periods of time you know not the length of. It is gray, yet you sometimes spot the colorful liquid that leaves their bodies as they succumb to the eternal slumber you sometimes seek.

There is no coldness and there is no hotness — you are always warm. They blanket you with their wings and speak to you in a language you have learned to understand.

"The followers of Qlipoth are coming!" they would say, and yet you did not know who they spoke of. The concept of beings existing that are not you or the insects that flutter about bringing you sustenance and company is foreign, and your young mind cannot comprehend it without physical proof. You assume they jest as they always do to try and humor you, and so you do not acknowledge their warnings.

"The followers of Qlipoth have come, you must leave!" And yet you chose to remain on the cracked grounds that have filled your sight for the many years you have lived. You chose to remain under their wings which shielded you as they fought against Qlipoth’s devout to keep them away from your form.

They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hear the shrieks of your swarm. They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hear the loud explosions which cause the frail floors to crack more and more. They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hold a baby bug in your arms like a toy to sooth the bubbling feeling of fear which is so foreign to you.

They are not weak, you realize, as you feel their hands pull at you from beneath the pile of dead creatures, doing their best to fight off the hallucinations from their wings.

These people — the followers of Qlipoth — are enemies. They do not deserve what the insects would call 'mercy'. The chains which cling to some of your joints barely hold you back as you scream at them in what sounds to them like gibberish. Your body is weak from the lack of movement, yet what you consider weakness is considered as strength that was once unattainable to them.

"If I didn’t know of the swarm I’d assume they were an abomination of the abundance," a woman speaks, yet her words mean nothing to you for you cannot understand them. You do not know who spoke, and you do not care. They are all enemies, and this 'Qlipoth' that they follow will be struck down by your own hands one day. They follow this being and therefor this being is the one to order them to do such horrendous acts.

You make an attempt to flutter the thin wings that decorate your back but they feel heavy. You look back and find them to be hidden away and chained. You do not feel the pain, but perhaps it is just the adrenaline rushing through you.

"Did you really have to cover them up like that?" "The workers said that they were hallucinating, we couldn’t risk it."

A gloved hand is placed in front of you. There is nothing in it. The golden rings shine under the lighting of the room you are in. The shimmer is new to your eyes and makes you squint from the reflecting light. You are used to the dullness of your 'home' planet, so when you look up to properly face the man who seems innocent enough, you recoil at the brightness off his appearance.

The many layers of clothes he adorns makes you curious. You do not wear much, only enough to properly cover you. The insects would keep you warm. Yet he wears so much — so many layers of attire made from materials you didn’t even know existed.

Your rage and hostility is pacified with curiosity, and that makes his smile a bit more genuine. He brings a hand to your head, and you’re ready to tear him to shreds should he try anything, but he only pets you gently. It reminds you of when the insects would nudge your head whenever they wanted you to wake up.

The sense of familiarity makes your eyes water but you do not shed the tears. You don’t like how they blind your sight and you blink rapidly to make them go away. The man clad in bright colors says something, but you once again can’t understand him.

But when the suffocating chains no longer cling to your tender skin, you understand that he is safe like those that cared for you and he is trying to comfort you. It works.

The man is named Aventurine — he repeated it constantly until you finally said it, albeit with the accent of a toddler. Still, he praised you. When he smiled and pat your head, you felt happy. It was a good thing.

You follow Aventurine around. He is the only one you have familiarized yourself with. He gets frightened by the swarm that follows you, so you scold them whenever they show themselves unannounced. You do not want him to leave you — you’ve noticed it happens a lot as you are exposed to human beings. He tells you he won’t leave you, how you’re his responsibility now.

You only understand a little bit of what he speaks, but you want to learn more to get more head pats and praise. The language they use is very foreign and requires much more effort to sound out the words as well as memorizing the symbols they write with. It is a lot of effort, but Aventurine is very encouraging.

Aventurine is nice. He is patient. He is understanding. He is helpful. You have been told that the one who has given you your strength was born from loneliness, but if that was the case, them shouldn’t your abilities be gone by now? Because with Aventurine, you do not feel lonely.

You want to tell him this, and one day you will. But for now, you’ll sit in his office, dressed in the nice clothing he has bought for you, and continue to practice your speech and writing.

You do not like leaving his office, because Qlipoth’s devout will then try to talk to you. You have tried many times to send your swarm after them, and you have succeeded many times, but Aventurine always scolds you. You do not like it when he scolds you. It’s a bad thing.

He tries to get you accustomed to human society. It is hard, especially because the human society he tries to make you interact with is filled with Qlipoth’s followers, but for him, you will try.

For him, you will listen to them as they order you to send your swarm to terrorize planets littered with precious material. For him, you will listen to them as blood stains your hands — blood which is not yours. For him, you will allow others to call you a monster which he reassures you that you aren’t.

For him, you will let yourself become the tool Qlipoth’s devout want you to become.

Something you have noticed and have been taught about human society is the concept that is family. You have heard the term many times, especially on this planet called Penacony. The main heads of this big hotel are called The Family. The head of The Family is the brother of his sister. You make sure to remember that.

Aventurine tells you to keep your features hidden as well as your little swarm bug which you brought with you, and you do not protest. The hotel is big, perfect for your insect friend to flutter about freely. Your hand clings to Aventurine’s coat, a habit you have picked up on. When you cling to him, people talk to him first. You don’t know why, but you do not care because it has yet to fail you.

You do not pay attention to the woman at the front desk. She speaks too fast for you to properly comprehend her words, anyways. You take note of the people around. There is nobody adorning the familiar uniform of Qlipoth’s followers, much to your relief. You tug on Aventurine’s coat, looking at him.

He hums, and looks at you while the woman looks the both of you up to check for the reservation. "Finish?" You ask quietly. "Almost. You can sit if you want," he replies, pinching your cheek playfully. You frown and shake your head.

"Alright, It seems you both have reservations. Here are the keys for your rooms. We hope you and your younger sibling enjoy your stay in penacony." The woman smiles and slides the cards on the counter. Aventurine thanks her and motions for you to follow, which you do without hesitance.

The walk is silent, and once the two of you are in the elevator, you decide to speak once more. "We are like Sunday and Robin."

Aventurine blinks at your declaration and turns so his body is facing you, leaning on the support bars of the elevator. "Is that a statement or a question?" He asks, but you don’t directly answer his question, only explaining your words.

"I am younger sibling, you are older sibling." It is then that Aventurine realizes you had paid attention to the woman’s words, or at least her send off ones. He didn’t think much of it, it wasn’t the first time people had assumed you both as siblings. Then again, you had yet to learn the concept of family and the various titles during those encounters.

Still, Aventurine smiles, chuckling lightly as the fuzzy feeling in his chest grows. "Yeah.. You’re the younger sibling, I’m older sibling." The elevator grows silent once more as you both wait for the doors to open.

He’ll need to finish those custody papers once this mission is over.

[lila-lou]

✨Taking her in - Pt. 4✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language

Word Count: 5034

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

A week had passed since that tense night at the bar, and things between you and Dean had remained strained and awkward. The silence between you two had grown heavier, more charged, and it seemed like both of you were tiptoeing around each other, afraid to confront what was really going on. Dean had become more withdrawn, and though Sam hadn’t said anything, you could tell he’d noticed the shift in the dynamic as well.

You spent most of the week trying to sort through your emotions, grappling with the hurt and confusion Dean’s actions had caused, while also questioning your own feelings. Part of you wanted to confront him, to ask him what the hell was going on, but another part of you was terrified of what the answer might be.

So, when Jake called and asked you out, you hesitated.

You’d never really had much experience with guys—your life was complicated enough as it was, and with your lingering feelings for Dean, you’d never felt the need to complicate things further.

But your 18th birthday was approaching, and you knew it was time to make a change. You couldn’t keep living in limbo, pining after someone who seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length. Jake was a nice guy, uncomplicated, and maybe spending time with him would help you move on, help you forget about the tension that had been eating away at you.

So, you agreed to go out with Jake.

He suggested going to the movies, and you thought it sounded perfect—casual, low-pressure, a chance to just be a normal teenager for once. But as the evening approached, nerves began to creep in. You hadn’t been on a date before, and you weren’t entirely sure what to expect. Still, you were determined to give it a shot.

You chose a pretty summer dress, one that ended mid-thigh and made you feel confident and feminine. It was a light, flowy fabric that swished around your legs when you moved, a soft pastel color that complimented your complexion. You decided to leave your hair down, slightly curling the ends for a bit of extra polish, and applied a little makeup—just enough to enhance your features without feeling overdone.

As you took a final look in the mirror, a mix of excitement and anxiety fluttered in your stomach. This was new territory for you, and part of you wondered if you were really ready for it. But you knew you couldn’t keep waiting around for something that might never happen. It was time to take a step forward.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of your room and made your way to the library, where you knew Sam and Dean were likely holed up. As you approached, you heard the familiar sound of Castiel’s voice, which meant he was there as well.

Sam was the first to notice you. He looked up from the book he was reading, his eyes widening slightly as he took in your appearance. “Wow, (Y/N), you look great”, he said, smiling warmly.

Dean, who had been sitting across the table from Sam, glanced up as well. The moment his eyes landed on you, something unreadable flashed across his face—surprise, confusion, and maybe something darker, something he quickly tried to hide behind a neutral expression.

Castiel, ever the curious observer, tilted his head slightly. “You look different, (Y/N). Is there a special occasion?”.

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice steady as you addressed the three of them. “I, uh, have a date. Jake asked me out, and we’re meeting at the cinema”. You hesitated for a moment before adding, “I was wondering if one of you could give me a ride? I’d rather not have him pick me up… here, you know?”.

Sam, always the supportive big brother type, immediately nodded. “Of course, I can drive you. No problem at all”.

But before Sam could stand up, Dean cleared his throat, his voice a little tighter than usual. “I’ll take her”, he said, his eyes fixed on you as he spoke. “I’m not doing anything right now anyway”.

The offer caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. There was a part of you that wanted to refuse, to avoid any more awkwardness between the two of you, but another part—the part that still cared deeply for him—couldn’t bring itself to say no.

“Okay, thanks”, you replied softly, your heart pounding as you met his gaze. Dean nodded once, his expression unreadable, and stood up from the table, grabbing his jacket.

Sam exchanged a glance with Castiel, who merely observed the exchange with his usual calm demeanor. Sam seemed to pick up on the tension, but he didn’t say anything, instead giving you a reassuring smile. “Have fun tonight, (Y/N). You deserve it”.

Dean led the way out of the library, and you followed him, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The walk to the Impala was quiet, neither of you saying a word, but the air between you crackled with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

When you finally reached the car, Dean opened the passenger door for you, something he hadn’t done in a while. You thanked him quietly and slid into the seat, your hands nervously smoothing down the fabric of your dress as he got into the driver’s seat.

The drive was just as tense as the walk had been, the silence thick with everything you weren’t saying. You could feel Dean glancing at you every now and then, but you kept your eyes on the road, trying to steady your breathing and calm the nerves that were twisting your stomach into knots.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dean broke the silence. “So, this Jake guy… what’s he like?”.

His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it that you couldn’t quite ignore. You hesitated before answering, unsure of how much to say. “He’s nice”, you replied simply, not wanting to give away too much. “We only talked a little bit at the bar, but he seems like a good guy”.

Dean kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. The silence between you grew heavier, the tension almost unbearable. He was quiet for a long while, clearly struggling with something. You could see the muscles in his jaw working as he fought to find the right words, his usual confidence replaced by an uncharacteristic uncertainty.

Finally, he cleared his throat, his voice sounding strained as he spoke. “So, uh… are you planning on doing… anything tonight?”. The question came out awkwardly, almost as if he didn’t want to say it but felt compelled to.

You glanced at him, your brows furrowing in confusion at the question. “What do you mean, ‘anything’?”, you asked, your tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Dean hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the heat rising in his face, and before he could talk himself out of it, he fumbled with the door pocket of the Impala, his hand diving inside and emerging with three small foil packages. Without meeting your gaze, he handed them to you, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.

You stared at the condoms in your hand, your own face flushing with embarrassment as the reality of what he was suggesting hit you. Neither of you spoke for a moment, both of you too flustered to find the right words.

Dean cleared his throat again, trying to break the tension. “I just… I wanted you to be prepared. You know, in case…”. His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. He fumbled with his words, feeling completely out of his depth. This wasn’t a conversation he ever thought he’d have with you, and the awkwardness of it was almost too much to bear. “Uh, sometimes… guys don’t always have them with them, you know?”, he mumbled, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

You stared down at the condoms in your hand, turning them over curiously. This was the first time you’d ever held one, and the reality of what they represented was starting to sink in. The embarrassment you felt was almost overwhelming, but underneath it was a deeper uncertainty—was this really what was expected on a first date?

“Is that… is that what guys expect on the first date?”, you asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt shy and a little vulnerable, unsure of what the answer might be. You had no real experience in these matters, and the thought of Jake—or anyone—expecting something you weren’t ready for made your heart race with anxiety.

Dean risked a quick glance at you, and for the first time, he really noticed how you were handling the condoms—how you were fumbling with the packages, your fingers tracing the edges with a mix of curiosity and nervousness. It was then that it hit him: you might not have much, if any, experience with this. The realization made him pause, his own awkwardness momentarily forgotten as concern took over.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. How could he ask you about something so personal without making it even more awkward? He cleared his throat again, trying to find the right words. “Uh… (Y/N), have you… I mean, have you ever… done anything like this before?”.

His voice was soft now, careful, as if he was afraid of hurting you with the question. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was asking, but he knew he had to find out—if only to make sure you were okay, that you weren’t walking into something you weren’t ready for.

You felt your cheeks flush even deeper at his question, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your eyes on the packages in your hand, your fingers still nervously tracing the edges. “No”, you admitted quietly, the word barely audible. “I… I haven’t”.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Dean wasn’t sure what to say, how to respond to that. Part of him felt protective, wanting to make sure that you weren’t pressured into anything, while another part of him was grappling with the realization that you were even more innocent than he’d thought.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened again, his mind racing. He had always known you were younger, that you hadn’t had the same life experiences as him, but hearing you say it out loud made it feel more real, more immediate. It also made him painfully aware of how much he didn’t want you to get hurt.

Dean tried to focus on the road, but his mind kept wandering back to what you’d just confessed. The thought of you being so inexperienced, of being a virgin, stirred something deep inside him, something that he knew he shouldn’t be feeling. It wasn’t just the protective instinct that had always driven him to look out for you—it was something more primal, something that made his heart beat faster.

He couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting to places they shouldn’t. He wondered what it would be like to be your first, to be the one to guide you through something so intimate. The idea of how you might feel crossed his mind before he could push it away, and it made his chest tighten with both desire and guilt. This wasn’t right; he shouldn’t be thinking about you this way. You were young, innocent, and completely unaware of the effect you were having on him.

Dean swallowed hard, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He knew he needed to get a grip, to focus on being the supportive friend you needed right now, not someone who was entertaining thoughts that crossed a line he couldn’t afford to cross.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for”, Dean finally said, his voice a little rougher than he intended. He kept his eyes on the road, afraid that if he looked at you, you might see the turmoil in his gaze. “You’re in control here, okay? No one gets to pressure you into anything”.

His words were sincere, and he meant every one of them. But there was still that nagging voice in the back of his mind, the one that kept whispering about what it would be like if things were different—if he were the one you were going out with tonight.

You nodded, slipping the condoms into your handbag, even though the entire situation made you feel more uncertain than ever. The weight of the conversation hung in the air, making the silence between you and Dean feel thick and uncomfortable. You could sense the tension radiating off him, and it only made your own nerves worse.

For a long while, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the hum of the Impala’s engine as it rumbled along the road. Your mind was spinning with questions and doubts, but one kept coming to the forefront, one that you felt too embarrassed to voice but couldn’t ignore.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Dean?”, you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dean glanced at you, his heart skipping a beat at the way you said his name, so hesitant, so unsure. “Yeah?”, he replied, trying to keep his voice steady, though his nerves were starting to fray.

You hesitated, your fingers fiddling with the strap of your handbag as you struggled to find the right words. You’d never been more nervous in your life, and the thought of asking Dean what you were about to ask made your stomach churn with anxiety. But you needed to know. You needed someone you trusted to help you understand what you might be walking into tonight.

“What should I… I mean, if things get serious tonight, what should I do?”, you asked, stumbling over your words. You felt your face flush with embarrassment, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve never… I don’t know what to expect, or how to… you know, handle it”.

Dean’s mind reeling as he processed your question. Out of all the conversations he’d imagined having with you, this was not one of them. He felt a wave of panic rise up inside him, but he pushed it down, trying to stay calm for your sake.

“You’re asking for… the talk?”, Dean asked, his voice a bit higher than usual, betraying his own nerves.

You nodded, still not meeting his gaze. “Yeah… I guess I am”.

Dean felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. He was completely out of his depth here, and the idea of having this conversation with you—of all people—was overwhelming. But he also knew that you were coming to him because you trusted him, because you didn’t have anyone else to ask, and that made it impossible for him to refuse.

Dean wished you had asked Sam for this talk instead. Sam was the one who always had the right words, the one who could handle these kinds of conversations without getting flustered. Dean wasn’t exactly known for his way with words, especially when it came to something as delicate as this. But here you were, trusting him to guide you through something that was clearly making you nervous, and he couldn’t let you down.

He took a deep breath, trying to push through his own discomfort. “Okay, um, let’s see…”, he began, fumbling for a starting point. “So, what do you, uh… what do you already know about… you know, sex and all that?”. His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and he inwardly cursed himself for being so awkward.

You hesitated, biting your lip as you tried to figure out how to explain. “I mean, I know the basics… like, I know how it’s supposed to work, technically”, you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve never actually… done anything. And I’ve seen some stuff online, but not a whole video. Just snippets here and there. It’s all kind of… overwhelming”.

Dean could feel his discomfort mounting with every word you spoke, and the tension in the car was almost palpable. He tried to focus on being the calm, supportive presence you needed, but his body was betraying him in the worst possible way. The more you talked about your inexperience, about how overwhelming it all felt, the more his mind started to wander to places it definitely shouldn’t.

He shifted in his seat, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing problem he was having. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and it only made the situation more difficult to handle. This wasn’t supposed to happen—not now, not with you. But the combination of your vulnerability, your trust in him, and the way you were looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes was pushing him to the brink.

“Yeah, uh… that makes sense”, Dean mumbled, trying to keep his voice steady and hoping you wouldn’t pick up on the strain in his tone. “It’s normal to feel overwhelmed, especially when it’s all new. But you don’t have to rush into anything, okay? You should only do what you’re comfortable with”.

He could feel the heat rising in his face, and he silently cursed himself for letting his thoughts get the better of him. This was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with right now—his body reacting in a way that was completely inappropriate, given the circumstances. He was supposed to be your protector, your confidant, not some creep who couldn’t keep his thoughts straight.

You seemed to relax a little at his words, nodding as you absorbed what he was saying. “I just… I don’t want to mess up, you know? I don’t want to do something wrong”.

Dean swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on your concerns rather than the increasingly uncomfortable situation in his jeans.

He wanted to be there for you, to offer the support and guidance you needed, but his own feelings and physical reaction were clouding his judgment. He knew it was wrong to let his mind wander to the thought of being your first, especially when you were so vulnerable and looking to him for reassurance.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head and refocus. “Look”, he said, his voice steadier now, though still strained. “What’s most important is that you do what feels right for you. If you’re not sure, or if something doesn’t feel right, don’t be afraid to say no. You have every right to change your mind or to ask for more time”.

You nodded, clearly absorbing his words. “I guess I’m just really nervous about it all”, you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “It’s so much to think about, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone”.

Dean felt a pang of guilt. You shouldn’t have to worry about disappointing anyone. You should be focusing on your own comfort and readiness. He tried to keep his mind on supporting you, pushing away the more inappropriate thoughts that had been creeping in. “You’re not going to disappoint anyone”, he said firmly.

You sighed heavily, your eyes filled with anxiety. “But what if I can’t even get those stupid things on and ruin the moment?”, you asked, your frustration evident as you shook your bag with the packages inside.

Dean’s heart clenched as he heard the worry in your voice. He hated that you were feeling so much pressure about something that should be your choice, your moment, not something dictated by anyone else’s expectations. But more than that, he hated how his mind kept slipping into dangerous territory, thinking about what it would be like if he were the one to guide you through it, to be your first.

Dean swallowed hard, doing his best to stay focused on giving you the support you needed. He couldn’t let his thoughts stray, not when you were relying on him. “Listen”, he started, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “First of all, there’s no such thing as ruining the moment. It’s not about doing everything perfectly—it’s about being comfortable and enjoying the experience. And if something doesn’t go right, it’s not the end of the world”.

He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “As for, uh, putting it on… it’s really not as complicated as it seems. It might feel awkward at first, but that’s normal. You can always practice if it makes you feel more confident. But honestly, any guy worth your time is going to be patient and help you through it. It’s not just on you to figure it all out”.

You hid your face in your hands, embarrassed and overwhelmed by the conversation. “Why are you so confident about all this?”, you mumbled, your voice muffled by your hands. “You’re always with another girl, like it’s no big deal. How do you handle it without being nervous or awkward?”.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your words. It was a sound that held a mix of amusement and something deeper—maybe a little sadness at the reality of his life and the way you saw him. “It’s not as easy as it looks, kid”, he said, trying to keep his tone light, though there was a hint of weariness in his voice. “I’ve had a lot more practice, and I’ve been around long enough to learn how to hide the nerves”.

He glanced over at you, noticing how small and unsure you looked in that moment. You were just seventeen, on the verge of becoming an adult, and here you were, asking him questions that reminded him just how different your lives were. While you were still figuring things out, still full of innocence and uncertainty, he was already pushing 38, with more scars—both physical and emotional—than he cared to count.

Dean sighed, his smile fading slightly as he tried to offer you some reassurance. “It’s normal to feel nervous, especially the first time. Hell, everyone does. But that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you or that you’re not ready. It just means you’re human”.

Dean sighed deeply, the weight of his own emotions pressing down on him. This conversation was pushing him to confront feelings he had been trying to ignore for a long time. He knew he had to keep it together, to give you the advice you needed without letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment. But it was getting harder and harder to separate the two.

“It’s better to just get to know the guy first”, Dean mumbled, his voice softer, more introspective. “You don’t have to rush into anything, especially not when it’s your first time. That’s something that should be… special. It should be with someone you know, someone you trust completely”.

He paused, glancing at you again, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and something deeper that he couldn’t quite put into words. “The first time… it’s not just about the physical stuff. It’s about feeling safe, feeling like you’re with someone who cares about you, who respects you. And if you’re not sure about that, then it’s okay to wait. You’ve got time”.

Dean could feel the truth of his words resonating in his own heart. The idea of you being with someone who didn’t value you the way you deserved made something twist painfully inside him. He wanted to protect you from that, to make sure that your first experience was with someone who saw you for who you truly were—someone who cherished you.

He swallowed hard, trying to push back the emotions that were threatening to surface. This wasn’t about him. It was about you and making sure you were okay, making sure you knew that you didn’t have to rush into anything just because you felt like it was expected.

“Just… take your time, okay?”, Dean continued, his voice almost pleading. “You deserve to feel safe, and you deserve to be with someone who makes you feel that way. Don’t do it just because you think you have to, or because you’re worried about what he might think. Do it when you’re ready, with someone who’s worth it”.

You pressed your thighs together, a subtle movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Dean. The way your legs looked—so smooth, so perfect—only made it harder for him to stay focused on the conversation. He had to fight the urge to let his eyes linger, to let his thoughts wander.

“Thank you”, you mumbled, your voice soft and sincere. There was a vulnerability in your words, a quiet gratitude that made something in Dean’s chest tighten. You were trusting him with something incredibly personal, and the weight of that trust was not lost on him.

Dean forced a small smile, though inside, he was anything but calm. “You don’t have to thank me”, he said gently. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? You’re important, and you deserve to be with someone who sees that”.

The moment hung between you, filled with all the things left unsaid. Dean knew he should be relieved that you’d taken his advice to heart, but part of him was still grappling with the conflicting emotions that had surfaced during this conversation.

As you sat there, still processing everything he’d said, Dean’s eyes inadvertently drifted back to your legs, to the way you were sitting so close to him. It was a struggle to pull his thoughts back to where they should be, to remind himself that you were off-limits, that he couldn’t cross that line no matter how much his emotions tried to push him in that direction.

But for now, he would push those feelings down, bury them deep where they wouldn’t interfere with what mattered most—keeping you safe and making sure you were okay.

“Ready to go in?”, Dean asked after a moment, his voice steady but still tinged with the remnants of everything he was trying to hold back.

You hadn’t even realized that Dean had already parked in front of the cinema. You were so caught up in your thoughts, in the intensity of the conversation you’d just had, that it took a moment for you to gather yourself. Taking a deep breath, you nodded, as if trying to convince yourself that you were ready for this, that you could handle whatever the night might bring.

But before you got out of the car, you turned to Dean, your eyes wide and uncertain. “Do I… do I look okay?”, you asked, your voice soft as you gestured to yourself, seeking reassurance. “I mean, does this dress look alright? Is my hair okay?”.

Dean’s mouth went dry at the question. You were asking him if you looked okay, but the truth was, you looked more than okay. You looked stunning, beautiful in a way that made it hard for him to breathe. The dress hugged your figure in all the right places, and the way your hair framed your face only added to the effect. It was a struggle to keep his thoughts in check, to focus on being the supportive friend when all he could think about was how gorgeous you looked.

For a moment, he was at a loss for words. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. “You look… perfect”, he finally managed, his voice a little rougher than he intended. “Seriously, you look amazing. Jake’s a lucky guy”.

Your eyes lit up at his words, a small, grateful smile spreading across your face. “Thanks, Dean”, you said, clearly relieved. His words seemed to give you the boost of confidence you needed, and you took another deep breath, ready to face the evening ahead.

Dean forced a smile in return, though inside, he was wrestling with emotions he didn’t fully understand. He didn’t want to let you go, didn’t want to see you walk into that cinema with someone else, but he knew he had to. You deserved to have fun, to experience life, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.

“Alright”, Dean said, trying to keep his tone light as he unlocked the car doors. “Go knock ‘em dead, kiddo. And remember, if you need anything, I’m just a phone call away”.

You nodded, giving him one last smile before you opened the door and stepped out of the car. Dean watched as you walked towards the entrance of the cinema, his heart heavy.

As you disappeared inside, Dean let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He knew tonight would be tough, but he had to keep it together—for you and for himself. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, just staring at the cinema, before finally starting the car and driving away, his mind still spinning with everything that had just happened.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 5

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: The Housepet.

Continuation of The Houseguest.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Kaveh x Reader x Yandere!Alhaitham (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.0k.

TW: Implied/Referenced Non-Con, Prolonged Imprisonment, Mind Break, Physical Abuse, Dehumization, Obsessive Behavior, and Delusional Thoughts.

You’d been shaking for the past two hours.

Violently enough for the tremor to be visible in your shoulders, in the jerkiness of your rare movements, but not so aggressively as to disrupt the path of the tears Kaveh would occasionally catch running down your cheeks. It’d started halfway through your tryst, while his head was still buried between the thighs he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks, and the warm bath he’d run hadn’t comforted you the way he’d hoped it would. He thought that getting you out of Alhaitham’s clothes, Alhaitham’s colors might help, but even dressed in one of his shirts, your hair pulled out of your face by one of his jewel-studded clips, you shook like a leaf caught in the morning gale. When he tried taking your collar away, hoping that it’s absence would let you (however momentarily) forget Alhaitham, you broke your silence to beg him not to, and his bleeding heart won over his better judgement. You got to keep your collar, even if the sight of it around your throat sent a bolt of discomfort straight to the pit of his stomach.

Currently, he had you on his bed, curled up in a nest of his sheets and wrapped in his arms as he tried to tempt your permanently downcast gaze back onto him. It hurt him to see you in such obvious distress, as little as you seemed to care what he thought. He could only imagine what you were like when Alhaitham had his way with you, that brute. At least Kaveh had made an effort to be gentle with you. He was sure that, behind closed doors, Alhaitham wouldn’t so much as—

Speak of the archons and they will appear. As he rubbed shallow circles into your bruised hip, Kaveh heard the door to Alhaitham’s flat creak open, a series of familiar footsteps following shortly after. There was no pretense of a search – Kaveh could’ve counted the seconds it took Alhaitham to arrive at his door, to let himself into Kaveh’s room with the same irritatingly neutral, ‘I already know this will be a waste of my time’ expression he always seemed to wear. He didn’t even attempt to knock, but Kaveh supposed that was just karma. He supposed he wouldn’t be in this mess at all if he just tread a little more carefully around Alhaitham, around you.

Despite his brazenness, Alhaitham chose to linger in the doorway, his gaze flickering from Kaveh to you to the love bites littered down the length of your neck. Kaveh was the one to break the silence, eventually. “You’re supposed to be working.”

“And you’re supposed to be paying rent.” Then, resting his shoulder against the doorframe, “I left early. I wanted to see how you two were faring.”

Kaveh scoffed. “Don’t pretend you’re clairvoyant.” Alhaitham paid him a look, and he threw his head to the side, pulling you closer. “I’m only trying to some love to someone you’ve been neglecting for months. The poor thing’s so traumatized by your company, a little affection’s rendered them nearly catatonic.”

Alhaitham let out a dry laugh, his expression remaining completely unchanged. “That is not what they look like when they’re catatonic.”

Kaveh moved to spit out something accusatory and defensive, but Alhaitham only held up a hand. When Kaveh begrudgingly went quiet, Alhaitham took a step closer, positioning himself at the foot of Kaveh’s bed. He clicked his tongue and, with only the slightest amount of hesitation, you broke away from Kaveh and crawled to your keeper, head bowed and hands pawed. You came to kneel in front of him, your gaze never rising higher than Kaveh’s sheets. “I’m sorry, I tried to…” You trailed off, clenched your eyes shut. A flower, so meek and so delicate, it couldn’t help but close its petals for fear of being burnt by the sun. “I’m sorry.”

Alhaitham took on a look of pleased exasperation. “That won’t be necessary. You remember what I told you before I left, right?”

You nodded. “That it wouldn’t be my fault.”

“Close, but not quite.” He smiled, resting his hand on top of your head. You melted into his palm, although the sigh that slipped past your lips betrayed more relief than solace. “I said he wouldn’t be able to control himself. That’s the thing about Kaveh – no matter what I put in front of him, he’d be able to justify taking it for himself.”

Again, Kaveh tried to protest, to reiterate that he hadn’t ‘taken’ anything, but Alhaitham already going on, his hand drifting to your cheek, then your chin, tilting your head back to better take in the hickey bruised into the corner of your jaw, the evidence of Kaveh’s teeth still embedded in your shoulder. “You should’ve seen what I had to deal with a few months ago. Fighting, scratching, and such a mouth – I’m glad we found a better use for it.” A pause, a glance toward Kaveh. “I’m sure even you can admit that this is an improvement. A little training goes a far way, when you’ve got the right handler.”

He felt something sharp and heavy fall into the pit of his stomach. “It sounds like you’re talking about an animal.”

Kaveh didn’t want to be strict with you. He didn’t want to be like Alhaitham; endlessly cruel, endlessly demanding, a void where all emotions more sentimental than lukewarm indifference were eradicated with the utmost efficiency. He wanted to be soft with you, a reprieve you could run to when Alhaitham proved unyielding. He wanted to love you, if only because of how much it hurt him to see Alhaitham failing to do the same.

“It’s not completely different. Give a subject the right incentive, and it doesn’t matter whether you’re trying to tame a student or a sumpter beast. This subject just happens to do well with direct instruction. I found that out early on, after a softer approach proved ineffective.” He snapped his fingers, and as if guided by a string, you straightened your back, your formerly divided attention now focused solely on Alhaitham. “I could teach you a few of their commands, if you think you could be strict enough not to undo all of my hard work.”

But, seeing you kneel in front of Alhaitham, staring up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky – he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache at the memory of the state you’d been in only a few minutes ago, of the trembling doll who needed to be posed by hand. At least, under the weight of Alhaitham’s commands, you were more of a house pet than a toy, more of a flower than a block of crumbling stone.

The thought alone should’ve made him feel sick.

Should’ve.

He straightened, swung his legs over the side of his mattress. He looked at you as he spoke, only letting Alhaitham take up a fraction of his peripheral. “What do you mean by ‘commands’?”

Kaveh wasn’t looking at him, but he didn’t have to be.

He could hear Alhaitham’s grin in his voice. “Come here.”

He took long seconds to push himself onto his feet, to find his way to Alhaitham’s side. With a soft hum, Alhaitham stepped back and brought a hand to Kaveh’s waist, another to his shoulder, drawing him forward until he was standing in front of you. He could see something spark in your eyes – not quite distress, but confusion. There’d been a change in the routine that you and Alhaitham had perfected, and you clearly weren’t sure how to react. To his credit, he wasn’t either.

“You already saw how to get their attention,” Alhaitham started, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Names haven’t had much affect since our time with the cellar, but most verbal commands are fairly straightforward. Kneel, sit, and stand all do exactly what you’d assume, and while they usually ask for approval to speak, they’re good at responding to direct questions. Aren’t you, love?”

Kaveh watched you perk up, looking towards Alhaitham for approval. He offered a curt nod, and with a few seconds of deliberation, you managed a small “…I am.”

“See? There’s still a brain in there after all.” Alhaitham flashed that awful smile toward Kaveh. Kaveh didn’t return the gesture. “We’re making progress, but due to prior incidents—” Alhaitham’s tone didn’t change, but you flinched. “—our outdoor privileges are still restricted. Kitchen access is limited, too, until someone proves that they know how to handle knives responsibly.”

You bowed your head, a scolded dog who knew better than to pretend it hadn’t learned its lesson. Kaveh interjected before Alhaitham could forget the point of his lecture. “That’s not what I care about.”

He could practically taste the smugness radiating off of Alhaitham. “And what do you care about, Kaveh?”

“I can’t believe you’d hold this over my—”

“Answer the question,” Alhaitham cut in. “If you want to use something that belongs to me, you’re going to have to tell me what you plan to do with it.”

It felt like something was attempting to crawl up his throat, one spiny leg at a time. It felt like his chest was about to split open. “I want to be…”

His eyes met yours. For a moment, he thought he saw something other than the dull acknowledgment of an unpleasant reality, other than the fear of punishment and the anticipation of reward. Something more visceral, more conscious than what could be ingrained into you by someone else’s hands.

“I’d like to be loving with them.” He saw it for a moment and then, that visceral something fell apart and disappeared. “I’d like for them to love me. Or, to act like they do, at least.”

Alhaitham let out a breath of a laugh. It sounded like nails against porcelain. You seemed to think so too. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Your voice sounded so painstakingly delicate. If he had a little less self-control, he might’ve taken you in his arms and whisked you away, taken you somewhere Alhaitham couldn’t follow. If he was a little less selfish, he would’ve. “It wasn’t.”

If Alhaitham heard you speak out of turn, he was willing to overlook the infraction. “Use the collar. Just make sure not to pull too hard – you won’t like what that means.”

It was Kaveh’s turn to shake, now. He tried to keep his hands steady, to touch you as carefully as he had when you were alone together, but his limbs felt disconnected from his body, his mind buzzing numbly with a static haze. The material was softer than he thought it would – not quite the silk he’d taken it for, but rather, a fine velvet, soft to the touch and bound by a small, metallic ring that rested over your throat. Two fingers slipped under the thin fabric, and as if you’d only just noticed what was happening, you looked toward Alhaitham, your lips parting and—

There was a blur of movement in the corner of his eye, a resounding crack that seemed to ring in Kaveh’s ears for seconds. It took him a moment to piece together what had happened, to associate your reddened cheek with Alhaitham’s raised hand, and another to realize Alhaitham was talking, to hear something other than the sound of his own heart racing in his chest. “Do not question the orders you’re given,” he said, his tone flat, unaffected. “If you act out again, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

There was no hesitation, no trepidation. Just a deep breath, a new slackness to your posture, and a smile terrible enough to match Alhaitham’s own. “I do. Thank you for correcting me.”

Kaveh couldn’t take it. He didn’t think, didn’t wait, didn’t give himself time to think better of being so rough with you – just took your collar in his fist and dragged you upward, forcing his mouth against yours. It was messy, clumsy, near violent. His teeth cut into your lips, your blood spreading over his tongue, but you didn’t pull away. Rather, you leaned into him, resting hands on his chest and doing your best not to jolt when he hauled you closer. He’d be gentle with you later on. He’d treat you like the delicate, precious thing you were later on.

For now, he just wanted to pretend he was telling himself the truth, when he said that.

[hard--headed--woman]

Hello and happy Pride Month everyone ! 🏳️‍🌈

As promised, I am going to talk about an important lesbian in history everyday. And this first post is about one of my favourite :

Renée Vivien !

I have seen some people talk about her here but she clearly isn’t as famous as she should be, and she deserves way more recognition!

Renée Vivien, whose birth name is Pauline Mary Tam, was a British writer poetess, who wrote her poetry (and most of her works) in french ; born in 1877, she died in 1909, at only 32 years old.

Renée was openly a lesbian, and she never tried to hide it despite the society she lived in being extremely homophobic and considering homosexuality as an illness. In her poetry, she mentions her love for women a lot, and wrote a lot of love poems for several of her lovers. This even earned her the nickname “Sappho 1900”. ("Sappho 1900, Sappho cent pour cent").

Of Sappho, she was by the way a huge fan : in 1903, she published the work "Sappho", in which the poet's Greek texts are followed by a French translation, as well as verses by Renée Vivien, which thus "completes" the remaining fragments of Sappho's writings. This collection greatly helped to anchor Sappho's work and her identity as a lesbian woman in our culture.

Her work consists of :

Twelve collections of poems, totalling more than 500 poems

Several translations of Greek poetesses (including Sappho)

Seven books of prose

Around ten novels (written under various pseudonyms)

A posthumously published collection of short Gothic tales (written in English this time)

A book about Anne Boleyn's life

It is also possible to read her diary and the letters she exchanged with her lovers, friends and other personalities of her time, including Natalie Clifford Barney, Colette, Kérimé Turkhan Pacha and others.

Pauline studied both in Paris and in London, then decided, once she came of age, to come and settle in Paris. She published her first collection,"Études et Préludes" in 1901, under the pseudonym R.Vivien. This pseudonym later became René Vivien (the male version of Renée) then Renée Vivien, the name under which she will be remembered. We can easily guess that she first chose these neutral then masculine pseudonyms to be able to write and be published despite the misogyny and homophobia of her time, especially given the themes exploited in her writings.

Sadness, death, ancient Greece, love, despair, solitude and love are the most recurrent themes in Renée's poems. There is actually a poetry prize in her name, the Prix Renée Vivien, which rewards poets whose themes and style are close to those of Renée Vivien.

Among Renée's best-known lovers is Natalie Clifford Barney, a famous writer and poet, with whom she had a relationship for several years before leaving her, tired of her infidelities. It is said that Natalie never accepted this breakup and tried until the end to get her back by all means, sending her love letters even years after.

Renée then had a relationship of more than six years with the rich Baroness Hélène de Zuylen, married and mother of two children, with whom she traveled extensively around the world and collaborated on the writing of several works (under the collective pseudonym Paule Riversdale). In a letter to her friend Jean Charles-Brun, Renée admitted that she considered herself married to Hélène.

While still living with the Baroness, she received a letter from a mysterious admirer, Kérimé Turkhan Pacha. What followed was an intense four-year epistolary relationship, interspersed with brief clandestine meetings. In 1908, however, Kérimé, the wife of a Turkish diplomat, put an end to their relationship when she had to follow her husband to St. Petersburg. This break-up probably contributed to Renée's tragic end.

The writer was in deep psychological distress, which only worsened from 1908 onwards. Alcoholic and suicidal, she began refusing to eat properly, and attempted suicide with laudanum. After this failed suicide attempt, she contracted pleurisy, which left her very weak, and then chronic gastritis due to her alcohol abuse. She gradually fell into anorexia, and, with her limbs paralyzed by multiple neuritis, she died on November 18, 1909, aged just 32. Her death was attributed to "pulmonary congestion", probably due to pneumonia complicated by alcohol and anorexia.

After her death, intellectuals, artists and newspapers, out of lesbophobia, tried to make her forgotten by the literary world, describing her as a woman of evil and damnation, perverse and cruel, going so far as to invent for her a life of crime, debauchery, orgies with married women, violence and cocaine consumption.

Today, Renée Vivien's name is no longer known to the general public, and is never mentioned alongside those of great ans famous poets such as Arthur Rimbaud or Charles Baudelaire, despite her gorgeous poetry, her immense talent and fascinating work.

She's personally my favourite, and not only because she was a lesbian. Her poetry is the most beautiful, interesting and deep poetry I have ever seen. She deserves to be as famous as Victor Hugo or Paul Eluard (and even more famous, in my opinion lol).

Here is one of her poems, with its english translation :

A link to some of her poems (in french but you can use a translator) ;

And two links with some of her poems translated into english : 1 and 2.

You should totally buy and read her books and poems, I have them and they're amazing!!! I'll post more translations of her poems in the future for those interested.

Anyway, thanks for reading and see you tomorrow for the second post!

[borathae]

"Taehyung shows you a spell which makes your strap function like real cock, then asks you to fuck him with it and he knows exactly how he wants it to happen. He's going to be the one getting pounded, but he'll drive you fucking crazy in process."

❖ Requested by all of you through a poll ❖

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Magic!AU, Smut

Warnings: this is nasty porn besties, Dom!Taehyung who takes the dick, whiney sub!Reader, sex magic, her strap functions and looks like real cock, i'll also only refer to her strap as her cock/dick, and i'll use gender neutral nicknames, so i think that male readers can have a blast with this one as well <3, in some way this is a first time for her, blowjob, deep throating, snowballing, cum eating, handjob, frotting, multiple orgasms for both, anal sex (Tae receiving), hole stretching with cock, cowboy position, praise, dirty talk, Tae calls himself her "bitch", strength kink, he pins her down by her wrists, bro he needs to leave me alone fr, the biggest cum kink, a lil bit of spit kink too, scent kink, subby tears of pleasure, creampies, belly bulging, cum leaking, squirting, i'm telling you this is the cum kink story, once again this is so filthy and nasty, this is both gentle but also rough fucking, they're both done afterwards, loving aftercare, they're kinky and in love

Wordcount: 8.1k

a/n: just a reminder that you guys chose this story for his bday. you brought this upon yourselves 😩 enjoy besties ❤

“How does it feel?”

“I can’t tell a difference. I guess heavier?” you shift from one leg to the other, looking down at your own crotch, “I can feel that there’s something between my legs. It’s tangling.”

“It’s nice, is it not?”

“It’s….it’s different.”

You look up, expecting to meet his eyes, but you don’t. He is mesmerised by your cock and how it sits so heavily between your legs.

It was hard once, made out of silicone with no possible chance of softening. And then you spoke the magic words. The words he showed you and practiced with you until they finally worked. And oh how they worked. Your once hard, unmoving silicone dick softened and melted with your body until it was part of you. Now made out of flesh and with feeling in it. The colour doesn’t quite match your skin tone because the dildo was a few shades warmer than your real skin, but it somehow makes it look even sexier. Part of you for one night, so perfectly in place even if it was once impossible to fit. It is so wonderfully arousing to Taehyung.

“Darling?”

“Mhm?” he lifts his head and with it, his eyes.

“You stared.”

“Because I want you”, he says and draws closer. His big hand comes to touch your waist, his eyes race over your features obsessively. His pupils are dilated, “how is it for you? Truthfully.”

“Weird?” you say and chuckle shyly, “I can’t decide yet. I feel a weight between my legs, it’s tugging down a little. I never felt like this before.”

He lowers his lids playfully, whispering his next words.

“Shall I take the weight off of you?”

Your stomach tingles, your hands come to touch his bared chest. Clothes aren’t necessary anymore. You had to undress for the spell naturally and Taehyung never wore more than just some jockstraps. Not to forget the golden necklaces around his neck and the emerald earrings adorning his ears. He looks so sexy and his words make you want him even more.

“Mhm darling? I can do it for you, carry the heavy burden in your stead”, he offers, drawing tingling circles on your waist with just his fingertips.

“How would you do it?” you ask for the sole reason of wanting him to show you.

“Can I show you?” he asks, looking deep into your eyes.

“Yes”, you allow him, feeling mesmerized by him.

The deep connection remains as Taehyung lets his right hand glide down your body until he can let it disappear between your legs. He cups your heavy balls and soft cock. His hand is so big that all of it fits inside his palm.

Warmth.

You let out a shaky gasp, closing your fingers on his chest in a needy grasp. You can actually feel his touch. It is right there, between your legs, cradling what once wasn’t part of you, but what now feels so achingly needy for more.

Taehyung bounces your heaviness in his palm gently.

“Like this”, he whispers.

“Tae, this is…oh god…”

He needs to hold back right now. He dreamt of holding your cock ever since your magic was discovered. It is difficult to go slow right now because all he craves is to fuck you senseless. But he knows better. He knows that this is new to you, that you never experienced such sensations before and that every step taken too quickly could be overwhelming for you.

So he cradles you, bouncing you in his safe hand while his left hand caresses your waist. You keep tensing your abs. He feels them tighten under his thumb each time he brushes it over them.

“Does this lessen the weight?” he asks in a whisper.

“Fuck, it just make it worse”, you breathe out as you speak, resulting in your words to swirl over his skin. Your breath smells minty. Taehyung matches with you.

“It does? Where is it worst?” he asks and opens his palm to reveal your cock to him. He keeps his hand under it, carrying it safely so he could trace it with his left hand. His fingertips brush over your balls first, outlining them, “there?”

You throb softly, growing just a little in his palm.

“Tae, this is…” you get out and exhale shakily, looking down. There is so much heat rushing to your groin. You genuinely never felt so much fucking heat between your legs. It’s insane and it’s somehow getting more and more, the longer he is tracing your cock.

“Or is it there?” he asks, dancing his finger up your shaft.

More warmth. So much warmth. How easy is it to get so heated up? Why is it so easy? He barely did anything and you already feel like burning up. 

“Or maybe there?” he asks and presses his finger against your tip to draw circles on it.

“Woah”, you gasp, flinching away from him so harshly you actually slip out of his hold.

He stares. You stare. The heat between your legs throbs. It throbs so bad that it is almost painful. With every throb the weight seems to grow and at the same time get less. The tug downwards decreases while the heaviness of your balls somehow gets more. It is so impossible to describe.

You look down. You are hard. The view is familiar to you because you had a lot of hard dick in front of you already, but tonight is different. Tonight it is truly connected to you. Your skin blends into that of your erection and you know for a fucking fact that the blood you feel throbbing inside it, is your very own.

“Taehyung, this is fucking insane”, you let out, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know and it is so bloody arousing”, he says and closes the distance between you and him until he can trap your hard cock between your bodies. You feel how he bends it up and how it gets squished between your tummy and his crotch. His clothed cock presses against your bared one, sharing warmth. The fabric of his jockstrap is soft and rough at the same time.

“Wait Tae, wait”, you try to flee again because this is actual insanity, but Taehyung doesn’t let you. He keeps you pinned to him with his hands on your hips, silencing your worrying by kissing your neck. You heart flutters, but you barely feel it because all you can concentrate on is the heavy throbbing between your legs each time his lips touch your skin.

“Holy fuck Tae, please just”, you gasp and tremble, pushing at his chest softly, “just give me a second, please.”

“I am”, he promises you and takes a step back, “talk to me”, he says, holding your hands. He caresses your knuckles with his thumb, looking at you with adorning eyes.

“I”, you squeak out and stumble back, “I need to just take a moment. This is a lot. Holy fuck.”

“Hey, I’m here, hey”, he gasps and holds your hands tighter to prevent you from falling, “sit down, it’s safer to sit”, he offers and lifts you atop his bed. It is a very high bed and because he sat you down quite far up the mattress, it results in your feet tangling in the air. He gets between your legs, towering over you just enough that you have to tilt your head to make eye contact.

“Talk to me. Is it not your taste?” he asks, caressing your upper arms slowly. His eyes race between yours, looking so utterly attentive.

“It’s just….a lot. I don’t know. I feel so fucking hot between my legs. Is that normal? What if the spell didn’t work correctly? I feel every throb, Tae. It’s so hot”, you say with serious eyes.

Taehyung’s gaze softens. He chuckles fondly.

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious, Tae.”

“I know, gosh I know. Please forgive me”, he says between giggles, cupping your cheeks to caress them gently, “it is just that…my darling, this is how an erection feels like. You are simply horny.”

“But…but it’s so hot. Like, so hot.”

“I am aware.”

“That’s normal?”

He nods his head.

“You feel like this every time you get horny?”

“Yes.”

“Tae.”

“Why?”

“This is awful, oh my god, I might actually burst.”

Taehyung laughs, scrunching his nose up as he does.

“Don’t laugh, I’m actually suffering.”

“Please forgive me, but you are just so adorable”, he says.

You huff out air, frowning at him with a pout. His gaze softens, his hands brush down your arms soothingly.

“I can make it better”, he offers.

“You can?” you whisper, feeling flutters in your stomach.

“I can”, he breathes and brushes his fingers over your cockhead. Just a feather light touch, but it still felt intense to you.

You moan, rolling your hips up to chase him. Another touch never comes, even more intense heat remains.

“Just tell me that you want to continue this and I will”, he adds.

“I do”, you say and add a word you never meant more than right now, “please.”

His lips curl into a proud smirk, his eyes lower playfully.

“Get on the bed, rest back against it”, he orders.

You follow instantly, pulling your legs up on the mattress so you can move to the middle of the bed and rest back into the heap of soft pillows. They engulf you, allowing you to be comfortable and still sit up enough that you have a view of your lower body. Taehyung joins you on the bed, kneeling down next to you.

He guides his hand down your torso, tracing your inner thigh next. You throb, sneaking a glance at him to see if he also noticed. He meets your eyes.

“Needy?” he asks.

“Did you see that?”

“I did.”

“Tae, it’s”, you shift impatiently, “it’s so hot.”

“I know darling, I know”, he says and wraps his fingers around the base of your cock, “and so heavy as well. Darling, you are so heavy in my hand.”

“Don’t tease me. Please”, you wanted to order him, but it only comes out as a beg. Of course it does. You are so madly horny right now. 

Taehyung was the one to introduce you to the idea of experimenting with sex spells. For now, you have already perfected a spell which enchants ropes to make it impossible for even vampires to break through them. Another spell controls his orgasms and make it impossible for him to climax without your magical allowance. Your newest spell is this one right here and it is definitely messing with your sanity the most. You are so horny that you can barely even think. 

“Please…”

“Please what, darling?” Taehyung teases, tickling your inner thigh gently. 

“Do something please.” 

“Something? Like this?” he asks and lowers himself to your cock, flicking his tongue over your tip gently.

You flinch again.

“Holy fuck.”

“How was that?”

“Wet. Holy fuck.”

“Yes, tongues tend to be wet”, he is teasing. Of course he is. 

“Tae, please”, you whine, wiggling your legs, “I can’t take your attitude right now. Please.”

He chuckles, “adorable”, he whispers before swirling his tongue over your tip. Once. Twice. 

“Tae, oh god. This is insane, seriously.”

“You taste so good, darling”, he whispers.

“I can feel every fucking word you speak. Holy fuck.”

“You’re so needy. It’s adorable.”

“Tae. Holy fuck.”

He chuckles, wrapping his lips around you.He takes only your tip inside and gives it one suck, then lets it go with a bop of his lips. He rubs them against your tip, giving you small licks.

“Holy fuck”, you gasp, bucking your hips in sync with your fingers tangling in his hair.

Taehyung moves his head with it, preventing your cock from slipping into his mouth. He chuckles. The vibrations force you to squeeze your eyes shut in a full face scrunch.

“Tae, what the fuck. What the…actual..f-fuck.”

He slips off of you again, laughing deeply.

“I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Oh god…”

“You are adorable”, he says fondly and climbs between your legs. He lies down on his tummy, draping his arms over your thighs so he could support himself on his elbows and then he takes your cock between his fingers again. He moves closer, connecting his lips with your balls by nuzzling his entire lower face between your legs. He purrs deliciously, breathing in your sensual musk as his hungry lips suck on the sensitive skin of your balls.

“Holy fuck.”

You try to say something else. Seriously, you do. But you can’t think of any other words. He barely hasn’t done anything yet and you are already too dumb to speak.

His purrs vibrate against your skin. It feels electric and goes so deep, you swear you can feel it in your bones. His lips are soft and wet from his drool. His tongue is even wetter and feels ten degrees hotter on your skin. This is impossible to handle and so you squeeze your thighs around his head, grasping his lower arms in a desperate plea for help.

“Mhhm darling”, Taehyung comes up for air, “you smell like sex. Truly, I want to devour you.”

“Taeee”, you whine, pulling a face of devastation. 

He moans hungrily, dragging his lips up the thick vein on the underside of your cock until he has your frenulum under them. He purrs, opening his mouth to stick out his tongue and grind the flat of it against it.

“Tae”, you whimper, grabbing strands of his ebony hair. You know how his tongue feels. You know how wet and hot it is against your bundle of nerves and yet the knowledge still doesn’t make it easier right now. You should know how good he feels, but you still can’t believe this is happening. This feels so much different than on other nights. This starts off on your tip like fire and crawls down your entire length until it spreads through your legs.  

Taehyung loves how your thighs shake under his arms and how hard you tug on his hair. His scalp stings, motivating him to ruin you even more. You should know how it is to be sucked off. You deserve it. You deserve to have your balls worshipped until they are dripping in saliva, you deserve to have your frenulum licked until it is swollen and you deserve to have your every inch fucked by tight throat until you are throbbing painfully. Taehyung wants to make sure that you experience everything because everything is what you deserve.

He sticks out his tongue further and opens up farther, letting your cock sink into his mouth. He moans as he swallows you, basking in the high-pitched squeaks you let out. You begin chanting in whispers.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

Deeper. Your chants grow in pitch, as they do in volume, the tension on his hair increases. Taehyung moans. His lips meet your groin, his throat bulges from your cock.

“Oh g-god Tae”, you yelp and thrust your hips up as the unfamiliar sensation throws you over the edge.

Taehyung knew that it would happen. Of course it would. Your pretty virgin cock was never sucked off before, let alone was allowed to rest snug in a tight throat. Of course you would climax instantly. He moans deeper just to make it more intense for you, keeping your writhing body down with minimal effort. You might rip his hair out if you continue tugging, but he doesn’t mind. The pain is goddamn glorious to experience.

“Tae!” you can’t stop almost screaming his name, arching your back over and over as fiery pleasure throbs in your cock. Your tip feels on fire, your shaft is charged in painful electricity and your balls are convulsing so tightly that they hurt. Your legs are also useless, weak sticks of shaking muscles right now. This orgasm wasn’t planned, it wasn’t expected and it makes it feel all the more unbearable.

Taehyung slips off your cock the moment it begins to die down. Of course he would know when to stop. He gives you no time to catch your breath as he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a tongue kiss. You can’t reciprocate it at first, gurgling desperately as he fills your mouth with your own cum. It tastes slightly salty with a faint bitter note at the back of your throat. This isn’t how he tastes when he normally kisses you after head. This is more intense and leaves you feeling droopy. Taehyung licks into your mouth, scooping out the cum he fed you just so he can swallow it with needy moans. He can’t catch everything, resulting in your chins to get messy and sticky as you desperately try to kiss him back.

It gets easy until it suddenly doesn’t because he decides to wrap his hand around your cock and jerk you off quickly. You bite down on his lip to the point where you feel it break. His spit burns on your tongue as his blood mixes with it. He breaks away, looking at you with slightly panicky eyes.

“You bit me”, he whispers. His lips is already healed again, but the knowledge of what he just fed you remains. Will you end it now?

“Tae”, you beg and pull him back into a kiss.

He purrs, deepening his grip on your head in sync with his hand speeding up around your cock. He feels dizzy at the realisation that you don’t care about the mishap. He meets your tongue and twists his fist around your cockhead.

And the kiss breaks again. Of course it does.

“Oh god”, you whimper, sitting up straight because the sensation overwhelms you.

“How is that?” he asks.

“It hurts.”

“Hurts? Need me to stop?”

You shake your head, “sensitive”, you squeak and sob softly, “Tae please.”

“You’re okay. I know your cock is sensitive. Of course it is. Your pretty untouched cock can barely handle it, but it’s okay. I know what I’m doing”, he talks you through the handjob, keeping you with him with his hand on the back of your head. The only way you could look away is by closing your eyes, but you don’t want to. You want to keep looking up at him as he jerks you off. It feels so good. You are so sensitive from your surprise orgasm that it hurts so fucking bad and yet you don’t want it to stop because there are electric tingles deep, deep down you crave to have at the very surface of your cock.

“Do you feel it? Mhm? Can you feel how good I can handle cock?” he taunts and digs the pad of his thumb into your weeping slit. A stinging stretch radiates from it, pressure so intense you wonder if he is bursting your urinary tract is shooting all the way down to your balls.

You widen your eyes, squeaking for help. He gives it to you gently. Lovingly. Softly. He slips his thumb out of your slit again, massaging it in circular motions until the sting ceases to exist.

“That’s better, right?” he speaks deeply, caressing the nape of your neck with his thumb.

“Tae”, you spill tears, grasping his pecs desperately, “it feels so good.”

“I know it does. Of course it does. You’ve got such a sensitive little cock.”

“Sensitive”, you agree, squeaking helplessly as he begins twisting his hand around your cockhead again. You writhe on the sheets, trying to lie down but he keeps you with him. He tightens his grip on your head, giving you a warning flicker of his eyes.

“So sensitive, I know. So, so sensitive”, his voice is sweet even when his grip is rough, “it will pass. Trust me, it will pass.”

“I, I think I h-have to pee”, you stutter.

“That’s okay. Just let it out if you need to”, he reassures you, “leaking cocks are my favourite.”

“Tae please stop.”

He slows down his hand, cupping your balls instead to play with them.

“Sorry. Sorry, I’m sorry”, you stutter as you try to catch your breath.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you”, he soothes you, cradling your cheek in his big hand, “I’m sorry, I know I was a little rough right now. Especially after your first ever orgasm, I know this must have been a lot right now.”

“Yeah, sorry”, you hiccup and shudder, “Tae, kisses please.”

He smiles fondly and pulls you into a kiss. A gentle one for a change. It tastes of love and adoration. His lips guide yours in slow movements, his tongue caresses yours in a tender dance.

Now without support at the back of your head, your body finally gives up on you. You fall back into the pillows, dragging Taehyung right with you. He doesn’t break the kiss, lifting and moving your body until you can comfortable lie on your back and he can rest on top of you. He is between your legs, pressing his clothed crotch against yours.

He doesn’t like that he does. The fabric is too thick of a barrier. He reaches down with one hand and rips the small piece of clothing off his body, throwing it on the floor mindlessly. His cock, hard and wet from slick comes into contact with yours. He rolls his hips slowly, grinding it against yours repeatedly.

The kiss breaks again, just like it has happened with every new sensation he lets you experience. Taehyung isn’t angry that it does, on the contrary he loves it because he can take in the utter look of shock on your face and the intense look of pleasure following right after.

“Can you feel that?” he asks slightly out of breath.

You nod your head, dimpling his shoulders from grabbing them so tightly.

“I’m so hard for you, darling. Feel it”, he whispers and angles his hips so he could grind his cockhead against your frenulum.

“Tae”, you whimper and spill tears.

“Our cocks are melting, darling. We’re so close this way.”

“Tae…”

You squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back. He is so wet. His tip is so soft. The way he is grinding on you feels so incredibly good.

“It feels wonderful for me”, he whispers, “darling, we’re so close. So immensely close”, he adds and deepens the connection by wrapping his long fingers around both your cocks. He presses them together, pumping them in a slow rhythm. It not only gives you the sensation of a handjob, but also grinds your cocks together. The combination of both sensations is unbearable to you. You reach down, grabbing his wrist desperately.

“Please Tae”, you beg shakily.

He slows down gradually until he stops completely. He keeps a hold on your cocks, cradling your pressed together tips in his palm.

“Too much again?”

“I’m so sensitive. I’m sorry”, you get out, whimpering in embarrassment.

“It’s okay. I’m so proud of you”, he calms you down, wiping your tears and kissing your forehead, “I think we are done with foreplay, mhm?”

“Foreplay?”

“Mhm yes”, he smiles against your forehead, “I can’t have you climaxing too many times already. One was enough. The next I want to take up my ass.”

“Oh god”, you croak, writhing on the sheets. It shifts your cock in his hand, sending electricity through your legs. Holy shit, his cock is so close to yours. The grinding is already mind-blowing, but the knowledge of how close he is, drives you even deeper into ruin, “oh god, Tae.”

“Is this something you want to give me, darling?”

You nod your head vigorously.

“You do?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes? So I can quickly get the lube to make it easier for me?”

You nod your head.

“I love you”, he whispers and kisses your lips, “oh, I want to worship you.”

He leaves you alone on the bed for nothing but a few seconds, returning to you just as your arms have found enough strength to sit yourself up. You look at your own cock and how incredibly hard it is between your legs. It is glistening wet, aching to be touched again.

Taehyung climbs onto your lap, stealing a giggly kiss from you before sitting up. The bottle of lube is between his fingers, he is smiling down at you.

“Are you ready?”

“You didn’t stretch.”

“I’ll manage.”

“But…won’t it hurt?”

“Trust me”, he assures you and lifts his hips so he could shimmy right above your cock. He spreads a thick layer of lube all over your cock, using the access to circle his hole with it. You can’t stop staring, breathing quickly because he keeps stealing your breath. He is seconds away from taking your cock unprepared and there is no ounce of nervousness on his features. He meets your eyes, giving you a sweet smile.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“A little.”

“Don’t be. It will feel so good”, he says and sinks down.

“Holy. Fuck”, you gasp, sitting up in shock.

Taehyung pushes you down again, smiling at you with sparkling eyes.

“Holyfuck”, you get out, arching your back even if he is holding you down.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yes”, you whimper and grab his wrists. You bottom out, curling your toes as your back once again leaves the sheets. Your eyes roll back and close sensually, “holy fuck.”

“Yeah, right”, he agrees and begins shifting his hips on you back and forth. Slowly because he knows how sensitive virgin dick can be. 

“Tae! Ah.”

“I know. This is amazing, isn’t it?”

“I’m gonna cum, ah.”

“If you have to, do it. I won’t stop afterwards however”, he says.

“Please stop, please stop for a moment, please”, you beg, bruising his thighs as you try to stop him this way.

Taehyung stills his movements, caressing the sides of your neck to soothe you. Your pulse is racing under his fingertips.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“It’s so much”, you croak and peel your eyes open. You gulp, pulling a face of devastation, “I can feel it. Tae, I can feel your ass.” 

“I know”, he says, wiggling just a little to shift your cock in him. He loves the sensation because it gives his hole the possibility of getting used to the stretch.

“I wanted to feel this for years”, you confess with trembling lips as the emotions begin to overwhelm you, “this was a dream of mine. Tae, I-”, your voice cuts off because you have to whimper.

“I know, oh I know”, he wipes the trembles away by cupping your cheeks and kissing your lips. He smiles into the kiss, smiling brighter when he feels your lips curl into a smile as well. 

“I’m so happy”, you whisper shakily into the kiss, grasping the nape of his neck to keep him close.

“I’m happy too, my darling”, he whispers and moans gently, “I feel so stuffed with you. You’re so big.”

“Oh god, Tae this is driving me insane. I can feel you clench. Holy fuck, you’re so hot inside.”

“I’m burning for you”, he rasps and rocks back and forth.

“Tae”, you squeak out quietly.

“Does this feel nice for you?”

“Ye-yeah”, your voice trembles as you speak because all of this is just a little overwhelming to handle.

“It feels nice for me as well”, he sighs and sits up. Your fingers glide from his neck, lying weakly on the pillow. He places his hands on your tummy, using the support to rock back and forth. 

Your eyes close in a roll again, your lips part in needy moans. You grip his thighs, dimpling them desperately. His name is the only word you get out between all your sounds. It tastes saccharine on your tongue.

“I’m so stuffed. Oh so stuffed”, he sighs, lowering his eyes sensually. Taking it slow. This is what he is doing. You need it. He needs it as well. Taehyung took cock without preparation many times before. He also took cocks way bigger than yours, so he is used to a way more painful stretch than he feels right now. It is still very nice to get used to being opened up with slow movements. Because he isn’t bouncing on you, it also means that he is constantly stretching himself. He loves it so much that his toes curl each time he feels your length graze against his prostate.

But enough about him. You are barely holding on. It is already way too arousing to fuck his ass on normal days. You always imagined it to feel warm, but that was wrong. It is burning hot and so tight that it feels as if his ass was jerking you off. His unstretched rim squeezes around your base, forcing your cock to stay so much harder. His walls are so soft and wet. You already thought that his mouth was soft, but this is taking the fucking crown. 

“I think I can’t hold back”, you gasp out, writhing on the sheets.

“It’s alright. Don’t hold back”, he encourages you, staring at your face with obsession in his eyes. You are so beautiful when pleasure controls you. He can’t get enough of you.

“Tae, too much”, you whimper.

“I know, so sensitive. It’s alright, fill my ass with your climax, darling. I’m made for it.” 

“Tae ah god”, you gasp and tense up. It starts off in your tip and shoots down your shaft before it forces your balls to tense and begin throbbing. You feel it squirting out of you. It feels so good. Like one big relief of a fiery burden. His insides get wet and sticky. Hotter as well. Of course he does, you’re climaxing so fucking hot. Of course you warm him up with it. All of it just makes you climax that much harder.

“Yes. Fill me up. Ah darling”, Taehyung growls, rocking his hips on you needily, “give me everything, ah”, he moans and chases it with bounces on your cock. The feeling of being marked as yours is what finally set him off. Your cum sticking to his walls is what makes it impossible to behave any longer. 

He drags his hips up and drops down on you, forcing a guttural grunt out of you. You try to sit up again, grabbing his waist and staring up at him with widened eyes. The utter shock is obvious in them.

He pushes you back into the sheets, smiling down at you with mischief in his eyes. He lifts his hips, drops them, repeats it. Over and over until you realise he is getting used to a rhythm and you have to get used to it with him.

It burns. Your cock is genuinely only staying hard because his tight rim is forcing it to. You claw at his waist, breaking skin but it’s the only way to handle the overstimulation.

You try to say his name but it only comes out as a gurgled, “-ae nngn.” 

“Breathe. That’s what I always do. Breathe.” 

You try to do what he says. It does help a little. Your legs still stay useless however, shaking against your will as he picks up speed gradually. The overstimulation hurts so much more than on other days. You want to flee from it as much as you chase it with weak movements.

“Breathe. Keep breathing. Just keep fucking breathing”, Taehyung lulls and circles his hips as he sinks down. 

“Holy fuck, urgh fuck”, you get out, writhing helplessly because he just doesn’t stop. He continues dancing his hips on you, keeping your cock so, so hard for him, “please oh god”, you beg him, sitting up again because your body reacts like this instinctively.

Taehyung stops you with a strong hold around your wrists. He pushes you back down and pins your wrists down into the ruffled sheets just a little above your head, putting some of his weight on them.

“Stop sitting up, I’m not done with this”, he tells you and slams his hips down on you. Skin slaps against skin. Your cock gets fucked so hard by his tight ass. 

“Tae”, you gasp loudly, writhing in his strong hold in an attempt to flee him. This is too much. You can’t stop fucking leaking and his ass is so fucking tight that each time you bottom out, your cock feels like it might burst from the squeeze.

“Don’t flee this”, he speaks calmly. As if he wasn’t in the process of ruining you, “take it. I know you can do it.”

“Holy fuck, argh”, you arch your back, throw your head back, gasp for fucking air.

Taehyung watches with blown-out pupils as your mouth opens and your tongue curls back in a tortured moan. He slides his hands to your palms and intertwines his fingers with you. You squeeze him back instantly, shaking and trembling whilst at the same time using so much strength that it borders painful.

“Yes that’s better. Hold my hands”, he growls and speeds up.

“Tae please”, you yelp, hitting your head on the sheets repeatedly as you try to take the ride he gives you. Holy fuck your cock is burning up. It hurts so much and yet you don’t want it to stop, “ple-please”, you sob, contorting your face in agony.

“I’m not done, darling. I’m not done”, Taehyung tells you, “I want to use you like a perfect fucking sexdoll.”

“Fuck. Oh fuck, oh god fuck. Ah fuck”, you chant, barely registering his words because all that consumes you is the burning of your cock and the never ending pleasure coursing through your body. Your legs are jello, your muscles can’t work except for uncontrollable shaking he forces out of them each time he slams his bubble butt down on you.

“Take a deep breath for me.”

You try to. You really, really do but you can’t. He knocks the air out of you. Just as he squeezes even the last droplet of desperation from your burning cock.

“Breathe darling, breathe”, he growls and squeezes his hole on you. He moans deeply, basking in your high-pitched mewl of pained pleasure, “your cock is so big. My hole’s so fucking stuffed with you.”

“I can’t”, you croak and sob, arching your back as he forces uncontrollable shakes out of you, “Tae I’m fucking serious, I can’t do this anymore”, you sob, rolling your hips up desperately.

Taehyung doesn’t look at you. Taehyung keeps his head thrown back and rolls his hips as he takes your cock as deep as he can. He aches for you to go so much deeper than you do. He wants to feel it poke the furthest walls of his intestines, wants it truly filling him out.  

“Colour?” he asks you.

“I don’t know anymore”, you get out, writhing under him. You are blurry. Everything is dizzy. Your brain can’t speak. Your eyes can’t hear.

Taehyung rolls his head to front and stops his hips. He cradles your cheeks, wiping away the heavy streak of tears. The touch brings comfort, calming down some of the shaking.

“Look at me”, he says softly.

You peel your eyes open. He is blurry in your vision. A glowing aura surrounds him because you see him double. Or maybe it is because is currently your fucking god. The one who controls your body and whose name you only know how to speak. You grab his wrists, whimpering his name so weakly that it only comes out as squeaks.

“Do you want to stop this?” he asks and traces your lips. They are wet from drool. He smears it all over your skin as he goes to caress your cheek again. Neither of your care.

“Tae”, you whimper and reach for him. You hook your fingers behind his neck and pull him down.

He slams his hand into the pillow beside your head in the last moment, smiling fondly as he gets your tongue wiggling its way over his lower face as you try to kiss him. He chuckles and shows your tongue its destiny by sucking it between his lips and therefore engaging you in a sloppy tongue kiss. You whimper and mewl, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He lets you, kissing you back and sharing way too much fucking saliva with you. He loves it, moaning into you and getting your moans in return.

He keeps his hips still at first. It is clear that all you need is a kiss, that you don’t want to end this yet but you still couldn’t take another bounce. He knows that feeling. He knows how it is to be ridden into a state of complete uselessness and how addicting it is. He knows how hard it is to truly want to stop this because despite the agonizing burn of your cock, the fuck is just way too good to stop it. And he knows that despite all of this obsessive, sick desire your body is weaker than the spirit, that breaks are necessary even if you don’t want them. Taehyung knows those feelings. He knows exactly in what kind of state you find yourself in right now and because he does, he also knows exactly when he is allowed to start moving again.

When you twist his hair with both hands, when your hips wiggle under him and your moans become so much more desperate than before. Taehyung knows and he is there to give it to you so hard.

He starts off slowly, drawing circles with his hips until you notice what is happening and break the kiss to gasp. You share the same air, staring at each other with droopy eyes. At least you do, Taehyung is having a piercing gaze on you, pinning you down with dark siren eyes.

“I’m so stuffed with cock”, he rasps and takes your right hand to put it on his stomach. He presses down, letting you feel how the pressure squishes your cum around. His stomach grumbles and gurgles as your fingers squeeze your cum down and your cock fucks it into him again, “and your cum”, he adds in a breathy moan, “I’m so filled with your cum that it gets hard to keep inside. Do you feel it?”

This is too much. It is already a lot to have him ride your burning cock, but to feel how stuffed with cum he is, is too much.

“Again”, you get out and roll your eyes back without truly bothering to close them. It already feel intense, but what truly makes it unbearable is the fact that Taehyung squeezes your hand closer to his stomach and therefore makes you feel how your cum shoots up his intestines. Maybe this is why it burned so much. Maybe this is why you were so breathless. Because he has been dragging an orgasm to the surface. Again. Again. Again. How many times? How many times is he going to circle and roll his hips as your cock shoots up his tight ass? You can’t find an answer but you know that it doesn’t get easier to bear. On the contrary. Your first orgasm down his throat was short and fiery, your second up his ass was warm and dragged out, this one is intense and fucking addicting. You should want him to stop because your cock is begging you for a break, but you don’t want to. It hurts and you want fucking more, moaning in pained ecstasy as your heavy cock empties itself inside his tight, textured walls.

Taehyung moans with you, throwing his head back in ecstasy because nothing beats getting creampied by you. Over and over again. It doesn’t lose its spark. On the contrary, the more you climax, the fuller he feels. Fuck, the spell makes you so packed with it. No matter how many times you climax, the amount of cum doesn’t get less. Taehyung can feel it fill his stomach and he gets off on it so fucking good that he keeps leaking onto your stomach.

He pushes your wrists together and holds them down with his right hand so he can press his left hand over yours on his stomach. It is bulging. Not only from your cock, but also from being filled with cum.

“I’m so stuffed with you”, he moans loudly, arching his back, “my stomach’s bursting from cum.”

“Tae please, I can’t. Ah!”

“Darling”, he moans, dropping to his elbow so he could moan into your ears, “I’m your fucking bitch”, he mewls and orgasms around your cock.

He becomes unbearably tight, throbbing and pulsating around your cock and making it so much harder to function.

“Tae please. Oh god you are so tight, please. Ah! Tae!” you beg and sob loudly, grasping his tensed biceps because it is all you can handle.

“This is the last one. Promise. Please just fill me up with everything”, he begs and orders at the same time, rutting against you as his ass overflows with your cum shots. His current high ruins him. He didn’t even know how much pressure was in his prostate until your squirting cock broke him. He can barely breathe, pushing your cock out against his will because he is tightening so fucking hard. It only makes him fuck back so much harder and quicker, needing to stay stuffed like lungs need air.

And so you are destined to shake, writhe and beg until Taehyung milked you dry. Well, as dry as you can get because even after your orgasm, you swear you could probably cum again. Not that you want to, but you swear that you could.

You drop your hand from his stomach and sob his name.

Taehyung knows that it is over, that your cock throbbed as much as it can and that you aren’t lost in another high anymore. He also knows exactly how to move to get you to the highest peak of pleasure. He knows because he has done it a million times before. He peels himself off of you, sitting up straight which shifts your cock deeper again. It presses against his abdominal wall, forcing it to stick out where your burning tip lies. He is so filled with cum that sitting up like this actually hurts in his stomach. He is so stuffed and there is no way for it all to go. He tenses up involuntarily, easing the pressure by lifting his hips just enough that he has your cock halfway inside.

His hole flutters and relaxes against his will, releasing spurts of your cum in wet, sinful sounds.

“I’m so stuffed”, he whimpers and for the first time tonight, he sounds so utterly submissive. He rests his hands on your waist, using it for support as he tries to sink down on you again. His hole squelches and squirts more cum, enabling your cock to fill him up without any sort of friction.

You bottom out. The pressure returns. Taehyung mewls your name. You sob his name.

“I’m so stuffed”, he says again because this is all he can really tell you, “please can you go a little longer? Please one more time. I need it one more time.”

“I don’t know”, you get out, writhing between his fingers.

“One more time, I’ll be gentle. Like this”, he begs and bounces on your cock in a slow rhythm.

“Tae”, you mewl, twisting the sheets.

You are ruined. He is ruined. It is obvious to both of you that the right thing to do right now would be to stop this, but you can’t. Your cock is on fire, how he is going to milk you again is a mystery to you but you know that he will. Taehyung’s stomach feels like bursting and is convulsing constantly in a weak attempt to get him to relieve himself of the pressure, how he is going to fit more of your cum inside is a mystery to him but he wants it so bad. He fucked you delirious and in the process ruined himself as well. He needs to have one more.

“Tae, I have to- it, it feels like pee a-again.”

“You just want to squirt. It’s okay, don’t fight it”, he assures you, adding the most desperate of “please”.

“No. No, this doesn’t f-feel like squirt, Tae ah.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay no matter what it is.”

“I can’t stop it.”

“Yes, please.”

“Tae, oh god”, you croak and then the pressure in your lower stomach bursts for the last time. You relieve yourself inside him in spurts of liquid, translucent cum. It feels so good. No words on earth could ever be enough to describe how good it feels to let all this pressure just explode.

“Thank you”, Taehyung keens and arches his back. He stills completely, “oh god, you’re making me squirt too”, he mewls and releases all over your torso in hot spurts of translucent goodness.

Taehyung is a gentleman. He likes cleanliness and is never dirty. So why. Why is it that whenever you and he fuck, you end up so fucking dirty and disgusting? Truly it is a phenomenon unable to be explained and a sensation so addicting you wish to never stop experiencing it. 

He drops to his elbows, rocking his hips gently so you could share in the afterglow. You finally begin feeling the fire die down in your cock. This must be how softening feels like. 

“Tae”, you whimper.

“I love you”, Taehyung squeaks out, trembling on you.

“I love you too”, you sob, hugging him tightly, “oh god. Oh god what just happened?”

“I know, I can’t hold myself for long.”

“It’s okay, just drop.”

Taehyung trembles and drops down onto you, blanketing you under his weight. His hole pulsates rhythmically as his orgasm dies down slowly. You continue throbbing as you finally begin softening.

“You did so well”, Taehyung whispers, hugging you against him, “I’m so proud of you, my sweetest darling.”

“Tae, I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too, my darling. So happy”, he says and then silence surrounds you.

You couldn’t possibly talk more. You are done for. Taehyung feels the same. It’s always like this with you and him. You get lost in the sex you are having and it ends up ruining both of you to the point of non-verbal cuddles and fights for air.

Taehyung recovers quicker than you, sitting up slowly. Your arms glide from his body and just kind of drop into the sheets. You don’t fix them, letting them lie where they first land. Your eyes race between the others’. His hair is messy, hanging into his features. He smiles. You retort it weakly.

“How was that for your first time?” he asks.

“You’re going to kill me one day”, you whisper in a croaky voice.

He chuckles, “does this mean that you liked it?”

You nod your head, rolling it to the side afterwards. You close your eyes in flutters.

“I’m fucking dead, holy fuck this actually just happened.”

“Mhm yes, it really did”, he snickers, “do you want to see something very sexy?”

“Yeah, as long as you’re not going to touch my cock again. It might fall off you do.”

“No”, he laughs, “no, I promise I won’t. Look at my butt.”

“Alright?”

You shift your eyes to it. He lifts himself off your cock. It flops onto your stomach weakly. He positions himself above it and then seems to relax his muscles. What looks like liters of cum runs out of him in a steady stream.

“Oh god”, you croak, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“It doesn’t stop”, Taehyung says and giggles, pressing his hand against his stomach to squeeze out even more of it. It is running down on each side of your stomach by now, soaking the sheets.

“This is so hot, Tae. Oh god, did I do that?”

“You did”, he says and sighs, “it hurt so much to have all of this inside. I was so close to bursting.”

“Holy cow. This is….fuck, this is hot.”

It finally stops, trickling out of him in an uncoordinated rhythm.

“Ah hm”, Taehyung hums, trembling a little, “empty. Heh.”

“Seriously, if you didn’t ruin me as hard as you did, I would have flipped you and fucked you senseless right now”, you murmur and writhe, “oh god, it’s everywhere though. And so warm”, you whine.

Taehyung laughs, nodding his head, “I know. So messy”, he sits down on your stomach, getting his ass dirty as well. His weight feels so good on your cock. Warm and not at all uncomfortable. He cups your cheeks and pulls you into a kiss.

You hook your arms behind his head, letting him pull you up until he sits on your lap and your chests are melted into one. It spreads the mess everywhere, but it’s already too late to care about that. You’ll just have to take a shower later.

“Holy fuck, I love you so much”, Taehyung whispers between kisses, “if the world ever stops turning, I’ll push her myself just so I can give myself more time with you.”

You giggle, letting him kiss you all over your face with your eyes closed in happy bliss.

“I love you too, Tae. So much.”