#i don't know what else to tag this is something else-

[talisidekick]

Someone tagged this with the following and I actually want to talk about this:

This isn't the first response like this. I've had comments, asks, tags like this one, reblogs, and even comments on other platforms where this has spread to that bring up racism and xenophobia. Whether thats accusing me of being racist or hating immigrants (despite coming from a family if immigrants) or just pointing out, like this person did, the inherent xenophobic attitude the world has for my pharmacist to want to change his first name to an English sounding name. And it gets worse, I was given an English name at birth because my mother wanted me to "have a name that fit in". They weren't English, my last name was German, my great-grandmother who was a pillar in the family used German and Norweigan words mixed in her English that carried into my life and still does to this day. And because I wasn't "English", I still got picked on at school to the point I filtered out the german/norweigan in my vocabulary and learned to mimick accents to remove any germanic lilt I had in my speech.

Point being, I made this post recognizing the inherent xenophobia present. That's one of the reasons I told my pharmacist he didn't need to do that for my sake. I kind of suspected he wasn't just being kind. The way he said it had intent. The next time I saw him, nametag out, proud, it was touching to see the name I was given to protect me from xenophobia going to protect someone else, but also a bit bitter that I know part of the reason for wanting to find an English name was the pressure to blend in and sidestep a LOT of bullshit.

My name now is Germanic, my middle name Italian, my last name Ukrainian, and my nickname I use everywhere to make peoples lives easier is Talia or Tali <- To which I've learned "Tali" is a common short-hand/nickname or name for some in the middle-east (I didn't know, I just mashed up my middle name with my childhood nickname 'T' to get it so my friends would have an easier time transitioning over to my new name and it stuck. I just recently found out from a co-worker who just got back from a trip to the middle east and asked me about it). I'm no longer side-stepping the bullshit, I have noticed a difference in treatment. If people don't know me, and haven't seen me, like when it's over the phone or in email, it takes much longer and I have to be more precise with my wording. In fact, I've noticed it a bit when in person too. Next to my English named co-workers, I am treated by some like I know less and I'm scruitinized a bit more. Now obviously if I was a woman of colour and not off-white canvas, this would be 10-times worse in ways I'm not qualified or experienced to explain or get into. I'll leave that to someone WITH that kind of experience to get into.

I've never mentioned whether my pharmacist is a coloured man or not, and I never will. It's not that it "doesn't matter", every aspect of that man shapes his existence and experience of this life. I'm just not clarifying because the moment I do, I know some of you are going to solely focus on his race and miss the nuance of everything this post is about. It's about transgender positivity, discrimination, humour, and the kind-hearted actions of an incredible man in his journey of immigration. By leaving him faceless, every one of you brings something of yourself to this post. Be it simple joy, or further commentary.

The person who tagged this post is one of many who've accurately pointed out one underlying truth about this post. Not everyone is treated equally in society. This happened in Canada. Do you begin to understand the depths this post goes to with all that I've said here? With what you now know about me? Because I think some of you should now re-read the post again.

A while back my pharmacist saw my deadname on my profile and accidentially called it out, he corrected and deleted my deadname from the system so only my preferred name shows up now. There was a crowd of people behind me, so as he hands over the pills he apologized, in equal tone and volume as when he called my deadname and lied saying it's been a long day and he didn't mean to call out -his own- name. I quietly told him it was fine and he didn't need to do that for my sake.

His response: "No, it's my name now."

I went to the pharmacist yesterday, his nametag is my deadname. He informed me he's immigrating and in the process he's changed his first name to my deadname to have an English sounding name. That's why he's now able to get a reprint of his nametag to be my deadname. And repeated, with the intense seriousness of someone who is going to die on this hill: "It's mine now. Not yours. I'm taking." His tone indicated that decision is final.

Bro literally deadnamed me once, and has committed to flat out stealing my deadname. It's his now. Legally. Officially. I over heard his co-workers call him by the name.

[wholoveseggs]

heyyyyy girllll, ik that you already wrote a series about a professor and student, but could you pleaseeeee make a one shot with a virgin reader🥹🥹🥹

Angel

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!vampire!Reader} Newly turned and overwhelmed, one hunger refuses to be ignored. You need guidance, and who better to teach you than Elijah Mikaelson?

♡♡ You didn't specify what kind of teacher.... so I took some creative libertiessss (DON'T BANG YOUR TEACHERS, OKAY?? NOT A WISE THING TO DO(EXCEPT IF THEY ARE A MIKAELSON))~ ♡♡

5k words {whoops} - Warnings: smuutttt, vampire!reader, virgin!reader, first time, a brief Hayley cameo, blood drinking, riding, reader knows what she wants, Elijah talking you through it, teaching, oral sex (f!receiving), feeding during sex, possessive but tender Elijah && a pet name...

"So, you're just going to waltz in and ask him?" Hayley asked, shocked at how blunt you were being.

"Well, yeah," you replied nonchalantly. "How else am I supposed to do it?"

"I don't know," she said, "maybe try being more subtle?"

Hayley looked at you like you'd lost your mind, but you just shrugged, unbothered. The constant hum of your heightened emotions had been driving you insane for days. Hunger, anger, lust. Mostly lust. And no matter how much you tried to control it, you couldn’t shake the gnawing, primal need clawing at you from the inside out.

"Subtlety is overrated," you said, crossing your arms. "I don’t think Elijah would appreciate me batting my lashes and giggling like a schoolgirl. He values directness."

"Yeah, but there's direct, and then there's direct," Hayley shot back, looking equally horrified and intrigued. "I mean, do you even know if he's into you?"

You paused, considering. Elijah was your mentor; your teacher when it came to all things vampire. He was always so composed, so controlled, but there was something in the way he looked at you. He was always assessing, always holding himself back. You'd caught him staring once or twice when he thought you weren’t looking. And there was that one time he murmured something in that low, velvety voice of his about lust being a difficult thing for new vampires to control…

"I think he is," you said simply.

"Okay, but what if he says no?" Hayley pressed.

You smirked, enjoying her mild jealousy. "Then I’ll go take an ice bath and reevaluate my choices."

Hayley groaned, rubbing her temples. "This is the most unhinged plan I’ve ever heard. And I've lived in this house with Klaus."

"Wish me luck," you said with a wink before striding down the hall toward Elijah’s study.

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stopped outside his door, suddenly hyper aware of how fast your heart was racing. Vampire senses made everything feel more. More intense, more overwhelming. But there was no turning back now. You wanted this. No. You needed this.

Taking a breath, you knocked once before pushing the door open.

Elijah sat at his desk, a glass of bourbon in one hand, an old book in the other. He barely glanced up as he said, “I take it this is a social visit?”

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. “No, it’s not... well... actually...”

Finally, his dark eyes lifted to meet yours, curiosity flickering across his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You exhaled sharply and walked toward him, each step deliberate. "I want you to teach me something new... Something important."

His brow arched. "What is it that you think you're lacking in your education?"

You stopped in front of his desk, trying not to focus on the way his shirt clung to his toned chest. "I don't need any more history lessons, or lectures on self-control. I know all of that."

"Oh really? You've been a vampire for less than a month, and already you know everything I could possibly teach you?" he asked, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Not everything," you said, leaning forward to brace yourself on his desk. "I still have lots to learn and there's one lesson I'm hoping you can teach me, and I'd like you to start right now."

His eyes narrowed, darting to your lips for a brief moment before snapping back to yours. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

You swallowed, nerves clashing with the hunger and lust burning inside you. Then, with as much confidence as you could muster, you blurted it out.

"I want you to teach me how to have sex."

For the first time since you had met him, Elijah Mikaelson actually looked stunned. The glass in his hand halted halfway to his lips, eyes widening fractionally before his expression resumed its usual cool facade. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I beg your pardon?"

You bit your lip, cheeks flushing as you replayed the words in your head, suddenly embarrassed. But no, you had decided, you would be direct.

"Before I was turned... I, uh, I didn't get a chance to, you know, lose my virginity. So, I don't know what I'm doing... And I'm worried if I just pick up a random guy, I might kill him..." You spoke quickly, already regretting opening your mouth. What was wrong with you?

"Are you propositioning me, my dear?"

Something like warm amusement flickered in his eyes, and you relaxed a little, straightening. You expected pity, the way Hayley had looked at you. Judgment. Anything but the glint in Elijah's eyes as they slowly raked down your body, gaze sharpening with interest as it darkened.

A giddy flutter rose in your chest, and you licked your lips.

"Yes."

Silence fell over the room as Elijah set his drink down and stood, walking slowly toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. When he finally stopped, his chest was nearly brushing yours, the proximity making your head spin.

"Tell me, why have you chosen me for this particular lesson?" he murmured, fingers reaching up to trace the line of your jaw.

A jolt of heat ran through you, and you tried to remember how to speak. "Well, you're, uh, a noble gentleman... I trust you."

He chuckled. "I try my best. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"Um..." You trailed off, his fingers slipping under your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Be honest, angel,"

"Because..." you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks. Angel? He just called you angel.

"Because... I think about you, all the time," you admitted. "Ever since I became a vampire. It's like every feeling is dialed up to eleven. Except my desire. It's a thousand times worse than that, and I can't make it stop. It's torture. And I know it's inappropriate, but..."

"It's not," Elijah interjected, his fingers sliding down the length of your throat. "We can't help what we want, can we?"

You shook your head.

"What is it that you want, my little vampire?"

You swallowed, your eyes flickering to his lips. "I want to kiss you."

His lips curved into a smirk, and then his mouth was on yours, firm but gentle. His lips moved slowly, expertly, and your entire body flooded with warmth, your legs suddenly unsteady. He felt so good. Smelled so good.

Your arms went around his neck, pulling him closer. You had kissed boys before, but it was nothing like this. This was an out-of-body experience, like the whole world was melting away and there was only the two of you.

He moved away far too soon, and a small sound of protest left your lips.

"So eager," he said, tipping your chin up to look at him. "Is that all you want? A kiss?"

You shook your head, a small, embarrassed laugh escaping. "No."

He smiled, his hands moving down your waist to your hips, gripping lightly, pulling you flush against him. "Our bodies have an enhanced awareness of what they want, what they need." He paused, pressing a kiss to the column of your throat, then, so quietly it was almost inaudible,  "Humans have sex drives, but ours..."

"Are stronger," you finished in a raspy voice. "More Intense."

Elijah hummed. "Very."

"So, you'll teach me then?"

He chuckled softly, lifting his head to capture your lips in another slow, deep kiss. "Teaching isn't the word I would use,"

A blush spread from your chest to your cheeks. You nodded, wanting more than anything for him to tumble you into bed and show you all the things his thousand years had taught him. He was patient, though, and the way he was kissing you now was driving you mad.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you let out a soft gasp. Before you could blink, you were in his bedroom, him pressing your back into the mattress, his hands everywhere. His lips trailed down the column of your throat, tongue darting out to taste the soft skin.Your hands curling into his chest, nails digging through the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't rip my shirt," he murmured against your neck, and you giggled.

"Sorry,"

"You will be," he said, pulling back to give you a dark smile.

A thrill of anticipation ran through you, and you pushed him onto his back, climbing onto his lap, the heat between your legs throbbing with need. Your lips crashed together again, more frantic this time, more desperate. Teeth clashed, biting, nibbling, sucking. All the while, a heady ache grew between your thighs, and when he cupped your ass, pulling your hips flush against his, you could feel his own primal need straining against his trousers.

You moaned into his mouth, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, needing more. "Please, Elijah," you murmured, sighing at the soft kisses he began to trail along your throat. "I need you."

"Patience, angel,"

With a frustrated groan, you slumped against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His scent surrounded you. Aftershave, musk, something distinctly masculine and earthy. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Then you heard it, his blood, pumping steadily beneath his skin, calling to you. You wanted to sink your fangs into him, taste his hot blood coursing over your tongue.

You felt your vampire nature take over, veins protruding beneath your eyes, fangs extending. Instinct urged you forward, pressing soft kisses to his neck before nuzzling his warm skin, hunger gnawing inside your bones.

He chuckled at the gentle, kitten-like kisses you pressed to his neck, your fangs scratching his skin. He pulled your head away, urging your eyes to meet his as a glimmer of amusement danced in his. "So bloodthirsty,"

"C'mon, please." you whined, leaning in and kissing him deeply, trying to press your core against his bulge. You grunted, bucking your hips, starting a rhythm. Fuck he smelled so good, he felt so good, every fiber of your being yearning for his touch.

Your fangs brushed against his lower lip, drawing blood. He hissed, kissing you harder. His fingers tightened against the back of your head as he angled your face to give himself more access. You mewled as your hands clung to his chest, feeling his cock stiff against your stomach was doing terrible things to you.

"Look at me."

You obeyed instantly, his compulsion bringing you to a screeching halt. You whimpered, panting and needy. As his bloody lip healed, a single drop trickled down his chin, and you shivered, licking your lips as you followed the droplet's path with your eyes.

"Relax," he cooed, smirking as he wiped it away. "Don't you worry. I'm going to give you exactly what you want. But," he added in a darker tone, "only when I say."

Swallowing hard, you nodded, bracing your hands against his shoulders. "Okay,"

"Good girl,"

A rush of arousal shot through you at the praise, and a needy whine escaped your lips.

He smirked. "Oh, you like that? Being told what a good girl you are?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and his smirk widened. 

"Take your clothes off for me," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You quickly scrambled off his lap, flushed with heat as you stripped, pulling your dress over your head, watching Elijah watch you. His eyes tracked your every move, drinking you in as your bra came off. Then, with your shaky fingers, you hooked your thumbs under your panties, slowly peeling them down your thighs. Finally, you stood in front of him, naked, exposed, trembling, heart pounding in your ears.

"My, you're even lovelier than I'd imagined,"

You ached to feel him, craving more, more, more. A spark flashed in his gaze. You wanted him. Everything about this felt right. Every part of him wanted you too. His restraint was nothing but a mask, all for your benefit. You knew that once he lost his control, he would not be the patient and kind teacher you knew so well. Underneath that carefully crafted image was a beast, a creature of immense power, a force to be reckoned with.

"What's wrong, my dear?"

His voice pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes flitting up to his. A faint smirk played on his lips as his hand slid to your hip, dragging you closer. "Can't remember how to speak?"

You shook your head, unable to form a coherent thought.

"That's alright," he said, kissing his way down the side of your neck. “tell me if it gets too overwhelming,”

You nodded, inhaling sharply as your bare skin brushed his, your hands flat against his broad chest. His lips found yours again, deepening the kiss as his tongue parted your lips. Something was happening to you, this unfamiliar feeling. You could tell something big was building inside, a need, and Elijah was unravelling it, unraveling you.

He chuckled against your lips as he cupped your face, slowly pulling back just enough to gaze at you with those deep, brown eyes of his. He took your hand and sat you down at the edge of the bed.

"Don't be shy," he whispered. "It's just me."

You gulped. Just Elijah. Sure. How reassuring.

The room felt like it was spinning around you, but as you looked at him, everything steadied. He took a step back, unbuttoning his collar slowly. You wanted him. You could barely stop yourself from reaching for his belt, your hunger overriding every thought and impulse. You mustered all the self-control Elijah had taught you, forcing yourself to sit still as your thighs clenched together, the urge to relieve yourself building and building.

Elijah tilted his head, enjoying how desperate you were becoming, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his shirt came undone. He tossed the article of clothing on the ground.

Your eyes drifted over his bare chest, his nice arms and toned torso. A breath escaped you when your eyes moved down to see the defined outline of his cock against the material of his slacks. He was big, so big, so thick, so—

Your face went hot. A jolt of reality hitting you, everything felt so much, all at once. The hunger for his touch, for his taste. The way he smelled so fucking good. Everything was amplified, your every sense alive and thrumming. You bit your lip and watched as his slacks hit the ground and he stepped out of them, your mouth practically salivating.

Elijah was fucking stunning, and all yours.

He smiled and placed one of his knees on the edge of the bed. The movement made it bounce ever so slightly, and your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but the only sound you could manage was a squeak.

He reached for you, pulling you close and capturing your lips in his again. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to surrendered to him, letting yourself feel him, really feel him.

"This is going to feel very intense for you," he murmured in the small space between your mouths, "your emotions and needs heightened. All your senses are in overdrive."

A sigh left you as you opened your eyes again to meet his, dark and full of promises you never dreamed of before. His eyes, they made you tremble, they were so warm, so intense. And when they dropped to your mouth, the heat pooling between your thighs intensified tenfold.

"Don't feed until I say so, you understand?" He pulled back slightly, tilting his head and giving you a warning look, making sure he had your complete attention.

You swallowed and nodded. "I won't,"

"Good girl," he hummed before dipping down to kiss your lips.

His kiss was more possessive, his touch more demanding. Elijah pushed you back into the bed, your hair sprawling around you as he kissed you senseless. His lips left yours and kissed down your jawline, down your neck, to the swell of your breasts. You moaned when you felt his hot, wet mouth close around your nipple, your body thrumming when he nipped your flesh between his teeth, giving the other the same treatment.

The throbbing was intense and so damn good. His mouth was magic as he kissed a path down your stomach, making you feel like your entire being was ablaze, your desire burning deep. You writhed, his lips curling into a smile against your skin. He could probably hear how hard your heart was pounding. He was driving you mad with need.

"Please, Elijah," you breathed, squirming beneath him as his mouth continued to work over you, down your abdomen.

A deep, husky chuckle rumbled in his chest as his lips pressed to the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, teasing, tantalizing you with each featherlight kiss. Your breathing picked up, his mouth so close to where you wanted him. Both of your hands tangled in his dark hair, nerves and anticipation waring in your mind.

His hands came up, parting your knees slowly. He hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, widening his tongue and lapping you from your core to your clit, giving the tiny bud a teasing swirl of his tongue. The moan you let out was low and full of lust, a kind of lust you'd never felt before. Magnified, overwhelming, intoxicating.

"Relax, angel," His lips brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves with each word, making your heart jump to your throat, making it almost hard to breathe.

Your hips rolled forward, pushing you against his lips, seeking more pressure, more friction. You felt so wanton, so desperate, so needy. You felt him smile against your core as his mouth engulfed you, his tongue swirling and sucking as he slowly pressed his middle finger inside you.

Your whole body stiffened and clenched around him as your mouth fell open. A string of low and soft curses fell from your lips, and your back arched against his bed as he pumped his finger in and out.

"Elijah, oh, oh fuck," your voice broke as another moan escaped you when his tongue lapped at your clit. He curled his finger up inside you, sending a ripple of heat straight up your spine.

You tipped over the edge instantly, a white-hot heat engulfing you. You came in waves, your eyes clenched shut as your head fell back into the plush comforter beneath you. Elijah didn't stop his movements, working you through your climax and beyond until your hips stilled, and your breathing leveled out.

You felt so spent, but the ache inside you only deepened, intensified. You knew what you really needed to quench the fire, you knew that Elijah was the only one who could give you that. Your fangs itched, throbbing behind your gums, ready to come out when the moment was right.

Elijah sat up, wiping his mouth and looking pleased with himself as he looked down at your naked form beneath him. You bit your lip, heat creeping into your cheeks as you smiled at him.

"That was..." you trailed off, unable to form the proper words to describe what the fuck you had just experienced.

Elijah grinned as he dipped back down and pressed a long and loving kiss to your lips. He pulled you closer as you deepened the kiss. He kissed you so sweetly and softly, his hands resting on your lower back and his tongue slowly mapping out your mouth. You hummed into his kiss as you ran your fingers down his toned back, pulling him close.

"Now, my sweet angel," Elijah murmured, tilting your face up so his dark eyes locked with yours. "Are you ready for your final lesson?"

"Yes, Elijah," you whispered, your lips brushing against his. “Please,”

Elijah took one of your legs and wrapped it around him as his cock nudged your core. He was teasing you, moving the tip up and down your slit, making your entire body quiver as he kissed down your neck, finding a spot just behind your ear and nibbling gently.

He continued this pattern, your whines becoming needy and pathetic. Elijah's smirk pressed to your skin as his fangs nipped at your shoulder. Your head rolled back, giving him more room as he suckled on your pulse point.

"Such a good student for me, always listening, always eager." He said between nips. "Are you going to keep being my good girl?"

A strangled yes fell from your lips as Elijah nudged at your entrance. You whined and panted, trying to wiggle your hips and get him to sink his cock inside you, but he only chuckled and gripped your hips, pinning you to the bed as he nuzzled your neck.

"Let's not be impatient," he whispered, the low and possessive tone in his voice made a shiver roll down your spine. "There's so much I have yet to teach you, darling."

Elijah pressed his hips forward, and you felt the tip of him press against your entrance. He moved his face away from your neck as he pressed into you.

Your hands clung to him as you braced for it, this thing, this big, scary thing you never experienced, was suddenly happening. “It's okay," he hummed, "just breathe, angel,"

Your face felt warm as you looked at him and took a deep breath. He leaned forward, kissing your lips lovingly as his hands squeezed your hips, pulling you closer, sinking deeper.

His thrusts were slow, languid, intense. Elijah held himself up on his forearms, caging you as he looked down at you. Your mouth parted as your eyes locked with his. His slow and teasing rhythm had you trembling beneath him.

"My sweet little vampire," he purred, a deep sound in the back of his throat. "So good for me."

The words of praise were too much, the sight of Elijah above you, the feeling of him inside you. Your nails raked down his back, digging into his skin, needing him closer, wanting more, desperate to consume it all. 

A sudden vampiric urge took over, and you pushed on his chest with all your strength, he chuckled and sat back, letting you take the lead with a smirk on his face. In one swift move you were straddling his lap, sinking back down onto his cock and making both of you moan.

You were running on pure instinct as you began to move your hips, trying to find the right rhythm. He cupped your ass in his hands, his thumbs stroked your skin gently as you bounced up and down on his lap.

"Like this, angel," he said softly, repositioning your knees as you gripped his shoulders. "Here," he pulled one hand away from your ass to show you the correct motion to roll your hips with, guiding you until your movements matched his instructions.

"A fast learner in all things," He purred as a grin formed on your face, making him smile in return. You kept the movement of your hips steady, trying to control the bloodlust in your peripherals. 

Your hips slowed and you leaned forward to kiss along his neck, your fangs extending, and a new feeling came over you. A hunger that couldn't be filled by blood or sex. This hunger needed both, primally, simultaneously. And it had a target.

You felt him grip you a little tighter as your hips rocked a little faster. The bed began to creak softly beneath you as you increased your rhythm, his head rolled back with a soft moan. The sound only spurred you on.

Elijah gripped the back of your head and pulled you up for a kiss. He moaned into your mouth when you swirled your hips. The movement caused your clit to rub against him, giving you that delicious friction you so badly needed.

The wild hunger was taking over, obscene bloodlust. Clouding all reasoning. Your fangs ached with a painful desire to bite him, sink into him, take his blood.

"Elijah," you murmured between kisses. You couldn't wait any longer. Your eyes were black, your fangs extended, veins dancing under your eyes, and Elijah chuckled at the look. "Elijah, can I—"

He kissed you harder, his grip on your hips tightening. "Take what you need, angel,"

A growl came from the back of your throat, and your lips went straight to his neck. The moment you sunk your fangs in his skin, he moaned deeply, making your clench around him.

Time seemed to fall away as you tasted Elijah's blood. It was rich and sweet, nothing like anything you'd ever tasted before. It felt like you were in some sort of haze, unable to stop yourself from bouncing and moaning in Elijah's lap as you fed on him. Blinded by pure and unadulterated pleasure.

It was heaven, pure and simple, the taste of him. A moan rumbled from the depths of his chest, and you felt the reverberation of his groan through his neck.

You were drunk off his blood, high off his touch. Everything about him was intoxicating. The sounds, the taste, the feeling, the sin of it all.

"Don't stop," he groaned. "Fuck, don't stop."

You couldn't even if you tried. You would never disobey an order from him. Your hips were moving at an almost inhuman pace, the taste of his blood only adding fuel to the fire inside. He was all yours, and you were his. Blood, sex, breath, skin, all intermingling. You felt his hand come up and tangle into your hair, holding you to his neck as his other hand moved to the small of your back, adjusting your rhythm to an inhuman level.

"Just like that, angel, fuck," his voice was a strangled whisper, his head rolled back as a loud, throaty groan left him.

The way his body stiffened, the way he moaned, and the way his hips snapped up into yours, his cock thrusting deep into you had you seeing stars. You were coming, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It was all too much. His blood, his cum, the feeling of him deep inside you, the taste of him on your lips, the scent of him everywhere. Everything exploded at once. White hot fire rolled over and under your skin, like you were being consumed by napalm. 

He moaned deeply as you rode out your orgasms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his chest. You panted, trying to catch your breath as his mouth found yours, he bit down on your lip, your own blood flooding his mouth, mingling with the taste of his. Completing the connection, blood mixing, becoming one. 

You were panting, breathless, sated. But the need wasn't gone. The hunger lingered. The desire remained. You didn't think it would ever be fully quenched.

Elijah pressed a few gentle kisses to your lips before he laid down, bringing you with him. He shifted so that his softening cock slipped out of you and cradled you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as the two of you lay there in silence, catching your breath.

Your body felt exhausted and sore, but so fucking good, too. Your head was swimming as Elijah looked at you with a tender, loving gaze, a hint of pride lingering in the brown eyes that studied you. You felt your face grow hot under his scrutiny, feeling self-conscious from how intensely he was watching you.

Elijah’s fingers traced idle circles against your back, his breath warm against your temple. "You’re thinking too much, angel," he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.

You hesitated, then sighed. "I just... I don’t know what this means to you." The words felt clumsy now, uncertain in a way you hadn’t been when you had marched into his study and asked him to ruin you.

Elijah hummed, tilting his head like he was considering something. "Curious," he mused. "You certainly weren’t so hesitant when you strolled into my study and propositioned me like one might ask for a book recommendation."

The heat that bloomed across your cheeks was now traveling down your neck. "That was different."

"Was it?" He chuckled, low and indulgent. "You seemed quite certain then. So impatient, so eager. So hopelessly distracted during our lessons. Tell me, was it always lust muddling your focus, or was it just me?"

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. "I regret everything."

"No, you don’t," he countered, the smug grin evident in his voice. "But tell me, angel, why the sudden uncertainty?"

You bit your lip, the vulnerability creeping back in. "I don’t know if this was just... a lesson for you. That this is just casual,"

Elijah stilled for half a second. Just long enough for doubt to gnaw at you. Before he tipped your chin up, his eyes were dark but soft. "You are a rarity," he began, voice like silk. "Fascinating, infuriating. Bold enough to challenge me, reckless enough to walk into my study and ask the unthinkable. Do you know how long it has been since someone has surprised me?"

You swallowed hard, and he smiled. "That is why I call you angel," he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. "Because I look at you and I see heaven."

Your chest ached at the weight of his words. He had called you angel from the moment he agreed to this. He had looked at you with something unreadable, something reverent, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.

Elijah was right; this was a lesson for you, but not the one either of you had expected. It wasn't about control, or restraint, or blood. It was a lesson in trust, in opening your heart, and it was the last thing either of you had thought to expect.

And as Elijah leaned down and kissed you again, his hands gentle and possessive and loving all at once, you knew it was the beginning of something wonderful.

[kythed]

loser

tags: friends to more-than(?), virgin!megumi x reader, 18+!, sexual tension, megumi tries his best, stoner reader, cute awkward cunnilingus, heavy on the cunnilingus

megumi watched as you hit your pen, exhaling sweet-smelling clouds into the air.

"you're stinking up my dorm," he said. you just laughed, eyes red and glassy, hair tousled from the hour spent laying on his bed watching television. he lay next to you, a scant inch of space separating your bodies.

"wanna hit?" you said, dangling the pen over his face.

he swatted it away. "hell no. you're killing yourself with that shit."

"it's weed, 'gumi. not crack."

"still killing your brain cells," he huffed. "and you didn't have too many to spare in the first place."

megumi stared at his ceiling, watching the fan spin. he imagined it carrying the scent away, restoring the room to its usual vanilla bean scent—the febreze plug-in he'd bought in september. god, he wished you wouldn't smoke in here.

"ouch," you said, not sounding hurt in the slightest. you giggled, rolling over onto your side to face him. "fine, i'll put it away. let's talk instead."

megumi rolled over onto his side to face you. you were wearing a t-shirt of his you'd stolen and basketball shorts you'd "borrowed", both covered in crumbs, the last remnants of a now-empty chip bag on his nightstand. this close of a friendship certainly had its material downsides.

"okay. what do you want to talk about?" megumi humored you.

"hmm... catch the hockey game on thursday?"

"uh, no. we were drinking at yuuji's."

"oh, right," you said, slapping your forehead. "thanks for holding my hair back, by the way."

"sure. didn't stop you from getting vomit all down your front, though." megumi smiled a little, remembering how—pre-vomit—you’d drunkenly spun across the room and landed in his arms, attempting a bastardized cha-cha slide. he'd had enough tito's to nearly cha-cha back.

"we could talk politics," you drawled, "or maybe art. art history? we just learned about schiele in class. total freaker. or we could debrief kimiko's weird mesh outfit from last weekend again. i feel like we didn't talk about that enough."

"nope, we have most definitely talked about that enough," megumi deadpanned.

"then i don't know what else there is," you complained. you yawned and stretched, extorting your body dramatically, throwing your left leg over his right and leaving it there. megumi would never say it, but he liked that you were more generous with physical contact when high. light touches, the occasional hug that he returned stiffly. in a platonic way, of course. he was just touch starved. probably.

"this may be a sign that we spend too much time together," he said, stroking the edge of the comforter absentmindedly. he did not think that. you'd been his closest friend—one of his only good friends—since freshman year for a reason. there was something about you that was just comfortable. not overly reactive or over-enthusiastic, just... easy. witty. familiar. it was nice.

"hmm..." you wiggled your toes, expression serene. a long silence stretched between you. megumi flicked a crumb off your shoulder and watched it land on the carpet. he'd have to borrow his roommate's vacuum later.

"have you ever had sex?"

megumi nearly choked on his own saliva. "what?"

"you know, how when a man loves a woman they—"

"i know what sex is," he cut you off. "but why are you asking? you wanna know my size for a purity ring, too?"

"i'm just curious," you said, fiddling with the hem of your (his) t-shirt. your expression seemed purposefully casual. megumi stared at you until you looked up and met his eyes. "i have. but only once. he was thirty-five."

"the fuck?" megumi said. "that's quite the age gap."

"i had a tinder phase freshman year. i'd messed around with some guys in high school, oral and stuff, y'know. but i was tired of still being a virgin, and i thought an older guy would know what he was doing."

"oh." he didn’t know what else to say. he felt like this wasn’t a conversation you two should be having. "i mean... did he?"

"i didn't cum," you said easily. megumi wasn't sure how he felt about hearing you say the word 'cum.' his face grew warm. "it was quick, clean... it was, like, fine, i guess."

"just that once?" he said. the question slipped out, and megumi was surprised to find he was actually curious.

"yeah. i figured that was about as good as it was gonna get," you joked. "so... have you? had sex?"

"um..." megumi looked away. "maybe we should go back to talking about kimiko's mesh thing or whatever."

"come on, 'gumi, just tell me," you said, scrunching up your face. "i told you!"

"yeah, but that was completely unsolicited!" he protested. "i'm a more private person than you are!"

"i'm not gonna ask about your fetishes or anything," you said. "like, i know you're probably into some pretty fucked up stuff, 'gumi, like choking, or weird roleplay—"

"stop it, you're so fucking invasive—"

"or maybe latex—yeah, actually, you really do seem like a latex guy! the whole bodysuit situation, you know? with eyeholes and a mouth hole for—"

"no, i haven't had sex, okay?" megumi nearly raised his voice. you stopped. "i'm a loser, virgin, whatever. i'm 21 and i've never seen a girl naked. can we just... stop talking about this, please? i'm wildly uncomfortable. and you're high."

"i'm not that high," you said quietly. you sat up, jostling him as you crossed your legs and turned to look at him. your usually expressive face was still oddly devoid of much emotion. "do you like...? y'know. touch yourself?"

"yes, i masturbate," he said, exasperated. the boundary of propriety had been broken. megumi figured he might as well just answer honestly and try to get you to let go of the topic.

"porn?"

"not really."

"erotic literature?"

"jesus," he said. you just stared at him. he blushed. "i just... use my imagination."

"yeah?" something in your voice shifted. softer. curious.

"uh, yeah."

"what do you imagine?"

"um. like, sex."

"with who?"

"this is getting really weird," he said, scooting slightly away from you on the bed. "let's just turn the tv back on—"

"have you ever imagined me?"

his breath caught. "what the fuck?"

you laughed. "come on, it's not embarrassing if you have. we do spend a ton of time together, and i've been told i'm pretty cute!"

megumi opened his mouth, ready to deny it outright. but then he remembered. once. twice. a few times. after too many drinks. he always tried to forget afterward, washing away the guilt with kleenex and hand soap. washing away the images of you, your hot, bare skin, chest heaving. the sound of your soft, girly sighs. your tightness. fuck.

your smile told him you already knew. "oh."

"no, it's not—"

"it’s okay, ‘gumi," you said, your expression unreadable. you even laughed, and he flushed, partially with anger, and partially with the embarrassing beginnings of arousal. "really."

"sure, (name). i have most definitely thought about you naked while masturbating," he said, trying to play it off with convincing sarcasm. "because that's what i find sexy."

you were quiet, obviously unconvinced. megumi clenched his fist in the comforter. fuck. this was not good.

"do you wanna see in real life?"

"what?"

"see me naked, i mean."

yes, he did. of course he did. but not enough to sacrifice your friendship. "no, i don't—"

"it won't fuck things up if you just look." you brushed his hand with your fingertips, and he didn't move away.

"just... look?"

"yeah," you said. warmly. kindly. with a thumb under your waistband already. you were so generous. "just look."

the room already smells like sex, he thought suddenly, and scolded himself for thinking it. no. you're just gonna look. just look.

"okay," he heard himself saying. "maybe i'll just look, then."

"yeah?" you slipped the shorts down low enough to show a cute undie waistband, white, dotted with pale yellow hearts. it was very you. megumi didn't even know how he knew that—he'd never seen you in any underwear. but he realized he liked how you looked in that pretty, almost childish pair of panties, swimming in his big t-shirt and rolled up shorts. then you pushed them down enough to expose a smooth hip bone, an expanse of soft skin across your pelvis, and he felt a real heat somewhere down there. you stared at him expectantly.

"please show me, (name)," he said quietly. finally. against his better judgement.

so you did.

megumi held his breath as you wriggled out of the shorts, as you reached under your t-shirt, unfastened your bra (black, with lace, totally mismatched in a way he found somewhat endearing), and unceremoniously dropped it on the floor. you leaned back on his pillows, and he forced himself to stay put. it was so embarrassing, the way his eyes were tracking your every movement—you were just friends, after all, and friends didn't do this shit. but he wasn't going to tell you to stop. not now.

"you ready, 'gumi?" you said. you smiled as cheerily as if you were asking if he was ready to start a game of checkers.

"you're doing this on purpose," he said, eyes tracing the outline of your mound underneath the thin fabric. it all felt so dirty. he hadn't known you could be like that. "irritating me. as always."

"i don't know what you're talking about," you said softly. your t-shirt rode up as you settled back further into the pillows, exposing a faint trail of hair beneath your belly button. (cute.) you hooked your finger on your panties.

"just fucking take them off if you're going to," megumi said. he knew he sounded fucking horny. he didn't really care, 'cause he was. it was probably too late to pretend he wasn't. you could definitely see it through his sweatpants, anyway.

"okay," you breathed, and finally, finally, you slid your panties off and spread your legs, taking your fingers and gently spreading the lips of your pussy so he could see every soft, wet fold. it was prettier than he had ever imagined because it was realer than he had ever imagined, and yeah, fuck—he had imagined it.

so sue me, he thought, feeling himself lean closer to get a better look as you gently pulled the hood of your clit back so he could see. it was a little nub, somewhat of an odd looking body part, he thought, but he shivered when he saw you clench on air as you brushed across it with your fingertip.

"does it feel good when you do that?" megumi asked, trying to keep his voice to a clinical monotone. you looked right him and smiled with half-lidded eyes, rubbing little circles in your clit.

"mm... yeah, it does," you sighed. your voice went straight to his cock. he looked down and noticed a small wet spot on his sweatpants. fuck, he was leaking already. you'd noticed, too. "you wanna take a closer look, 'gumi?"

"um. yeah. yes," he said. you gestured for him to come over, so he did, on his hands and knees; he knew it was undignified and desperate, but he couldn't help it. he dropped onto his belly so he could be eye-level with your pussy. he could smell it from here, hot, a little sweet and sweaty. different than anything he'd smelled before.

"you wanna give her a little kiss, maybe?" you said. it almost sounded like a joke, but he knew it wasn't. megumi hadn't thought you'd be the kind of girl to call your pussy a 'her.' he liked it.

"i thought you said only looking," he said, not taking his eyes off you. you clenched again, throbbing painfully.

"i thought you knew me well enough to know i don't really believe in rules," you said, and that was all megumi needed to hear. if the friendship was going to end up ruined, you'd probably already passed that point. might as well enjoy the fall now.

megumi swiftly took your waist and pulled you towards him; you yelped and giggled, but your laugh was turned into a gasp when he licked a long stripe up your vulva, landing square on your clit. he licked that again, then kissed the little nub like he'd seen in raunchy adult videos. he sucked, hard, and you cried out.

"hey, no! gentle," you chided, and megumi blushed.

"i'm sorry," he said, panting a little. "i... i don't really know what i'm doing."

"do it like this," you said. you took his hand and gave the crease between your index and middle finger several quick kitten licks in succession. then you gave his palm a soft kiss, staring down at him with those sharp but kind eyes. god, he loved your eyes.

"okay," he said. he could follow directions. he returned to the task at hand and gave you a hesitant little lick on the clit, and when you sighed in assent, he did it again, and again.

"fuck, yes," you sighed, sliding a hand into his hair as he gave your clit a gentler suckle before returning to the little licks you seemed to like so much. he moaned into you, feeling your tug his hair harder when he did. you pushed his face into your pussy, and he groaned, unable to resist rutting into the mattress. fuck, the friction felt good. you seemed to like it when he did that, too, because you moaned when he did, tummy taut and trembling.

megumi let a pool of his saliva collect and spit it onto your clit, using his index finger to rub circles on it like he'd seen you do earlier. "feel good?"

"so good," you said, grabbing his other hand and interlacing your fingers with his. his chest tightened. that felt intimate. "ah, 'gumi, please, faster."

"fuck, (name). you're fucking hot," he said, hating the way the vulgar words felt on his tongue but loving how they sounded, how they made you wriggle on the bed, rut your pussy up into his hand.

"put a finger in," you said breathily.

"what?"

"i said finger fuck me, 'gumi. now," you said, and for a second you were back to your normal opinionated self. his friend. his best friend. then you pulled your shirt up to expose your tits, and pulled his other hand to your pussy, and everything was new again.

megumi growled deep in the back of his throat before leaning forward to kiss your tits. he licked your peaked nipples, alternating between them, and at the same time, slipped his index finger into your hot, wet pussy. he moaned despite himself. you were fucking tight. you were basically a virgin too, he reasoned. sex once. 'messing around' at other times, whatever that meant. he found he didn't like that other boys had touched you like this.

fuck, he was so hard. he humped the mattress again—it wasn't nearly enough.

"oh, fuck," you moaned, crying out as megumi slipped another finger in, curling them in you, feeling around your walls. he finger-fucked you aggressively until you sobbed once, and grabbed his wrist. he liked the way your face contorted when it hurt a little, and that scared him.

"please, 'gumi, gentle," you said, cupping his face with you hand. he leaned into it, apologetic. "too much, seriously. just... kiss me now, okay?"

"okay," he breathed, a little embarrassed at his ineptitude. and then he leaned down and kissed you, soft, sweet, long. how funny, he thought, that your first kiss together happened only after he'd already started eating you out. he wondered if you could taste yourself as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, as he bit your bottom lip, as he held the back of your neck firmly. when you finally broke away, you were both panting.

"now get down there and make me cum," you said with an ironic little smile. megumi didn't have to be told twice. he gave you one last slow, longing kiss, then descended again to your pussy. he spread your legs wide, propped them on his shoulders, and then used his fingers to pull the hood of your clit back. he grinned at you from below, and you stared at him, helpless and eager. whining, you bucked up into his face, and he took the hint, beginning to lick, suck, and kiss your clit. when you moaned or whined he kept doing whatever he was doing, relishing the way you grabbed at him, arching your back. he ate you wildly, feeling your wetness mix with his saliva and spread all across his cheeks and nose. frankly, he didn't give a fuck. you tasted a little sweet, a little salty. and he loved it.

"fuck, nngh," you gasped, wriggling in megumi's grasp. he kept eating you as you did. "i'm gonna cum, 'gumi, i can feel it. i can fucking feel it, oh god, you're so fucking good, baby, oh fuck, i—"

at the last second, megumi slipped a finger in as he licked, just so he could feel your pussy throb and clench when you came. he let you ride the orgasm out on his tongue, feeling like a damn god when you did, pushing his face into your pussy, letting it leak on him.

megumi wasn't quite sure what happened in the minutes immediately after you finished. he could vaguely recall you wiping his face on your t-shirt and giggling. giving him a soft kiss, which he returned more than willingly. it was as if he was in a trance and suddenly came to with you curled up by his side in just his shirt.

"hey." you gazed up at him, glassy-eyed and flushed as you traced the hard bulge in his pants, and he shuddered, staring down at you, watching you palm him through the fabric.

"hey," he breathed, peering into your face, searching for a change in that comfortable homeostasis of the friendship. he couldn't tell. maybe nothing had shifted. maybe everything had.

"let's take care of you next," you said, leaning over the side of the bed to grab something. "got any condoms?"

"um, no," said megumi, hastily adding, "but i can definitely run to the corner store really quick or someth—hey! i thought we agreed you'd stop hitting the pen in here!"

you exhaled, grinned, and he wrinkled his nose. at least one thing had stayed the same.

"i'll get dressed and we can go together. got any sweats i can borrow?"

"yeah."

well, megumi reasoned, as he rummaged through his drawers for you. you were always going to do what you wanted, and he was always going to let you. and maybe that was just natural.

[lair-of-platonic-yanderes]

Father Dragon, His Dragonet and Monster

Platonic! Yandere! Neuvillette x GN! Child! Furina! Reader

Description: You didn't show up today. Neuvillette is worried.

Warnings and tags: OOC. English is my second language. You might see Focalors and Arlecchino as an unlikable people. Aether is a Traveler. Arlecchino's fate is gruesome.

A/N: It's a derect "what if" from original oneshot. However, you can see it as an alternative ending.

______

Neuvillette was equally worried and annoyed.

[Y/N] were late. They were never late before. They, despite being loud, dramatic and childish (for a five hundred-year-old archon), were responsible and punctual.

So, either something happened, that kept them late, or they overslept.

Neuvillette tapped out a simple rhythm on the tabletop with his fingers. In terms of inner and outer politics, legal proceedings and all other "Running the nation" business, he did most of the job, but [Y/N] still remain the most important figure and their participation was necessary.

Making a decision, he raised up from his chair and left the office.

A few minutes later, he climbed the stairs to the top floor of Palais Mermonia and stood at the door of their room.

Ceasth and Enghien¹, two melusines, that were guarding the door (recently, Neuvillette find it impossible, if not outright preposterous, to let humans guard [Y/N]'s room or kid themselves. Hydro Sovereign's child should be protected by a dragon, vishap or new sort of Hydro vishap), didn't notice him at first. They were whispering to each other, looking distressed. They didn't even realize, that Neuvillette was here, until he cleared his throat.

Melusines' ears perked up, they turned their heads in unison towards Neuvillette. Ceasth's tail nervously twitched.

"Monsieur Neuvillette! Good morning! Just in time, we were ready to go into your office."

Neuvillette frowned slightly.

"Did something happened with [Y/N]? Why they are late?"

Neuvillette tried not to roll his eyes, when both melusines looked appalled by how he addressed the archon.

Recently, Neuvillette not only stopped trusting people with protecting his kid. He couldn't bring himself to think about [Y/N] as an archon. It leads to some awkward moments, when he called [Y/N] by their name and without any title (both official and non-official) in someone else's company. He still remembered Clorinde's pale face, when she heard Neuvillette blatant disrespect. Even melusines, who, admittedly, weren't big fans of Hydro Archon, looked disturbed. A few times his tongue slipped, and he called [Y/N] by their name, when they worked together. Kid either choose to let it slide, or didn't pay too much attention to Neuvillette's words.

But right now, he has no time to deal with cultural shock. He leaned forward, looked straight at melusines. He repeated, slowly and clearly.

"Did something happened with [Y/N]?"

Enghien licked her lips, rubbing her hands.

"Yesterday they came back late. And they were... in distress. They didn't eat, and just stayed in their room. I don't know if they managed to sleep."

Ceasth didn't wait for Neuvillette to ask the next question.

"They were crying. There were some noise, coming from the room. Like Lord² [Y/N] were moving something. There also were sounds of something hitting the glass and talking. I couldn't make out the words, but the tone was... desperate... And now... Better, if you see it on your own, Monsieur Neuvillette."

Neuvillette's blood felt, like it froze. Crying, someone made [Y/N] cry...

Ceasth, obvious to Neuvillette's emotions, turned around, knocking on the door. She raised her voice, so [Y/N] would hear her.

"Lord [Y/N]! Please..."

The loud cry interrupted her.

"Go a-away! I-I w-won't g-go out!"

The voice ended up in sobbing. Neuvillette fight the urge to knock down the door.

His kid, his dragonet were in distress. His kid, his dragonet need their father!

Neuvillette spoke slowly, keeping his emotions in check.

"Caeth, Enghiene, please, leave us. I will deal with the situation."

Melusines looked at each other, but turned away from the door without questions. Waiting until the couple disappeared around the corner, Neuvillette knocked on the door.

Immediately, the voice followed.

"I s-said, go a-away! I will s-stay h-here!"

Neuvillette's voice was soft.

"[Y/N], I promise, I won't make you leave your room. But, please, let me come in. I want to make sure, that you are okay."

[Y/N] didn't answer. Neuvillette waited for a few seconds, before putting a hand on the handle.

"[Y/N], I am coming in."

Still no answer. Neuvillette pressed the door handle. Thankfully, it wasn't locked.

The room didn't change much since his last visit. It was a kid's dream come true, with everything being too new.

But the once tidy room were a mess.

All toys, blankets, pillows and chairs were gathered in a heap in the corner of the room.

From the depths of the makeshift shelter, a pair of frightened eyes, reddened from tears, looked at Neuvillette.

________

Sometimes, you wished, that your mom Focalors didn't give you a mission.

You wanted a family and wanted to have friends.

Despite everything, you were just a kid.

You tried, you really tried to do your best. To be a good actor.

Crying yourself to sleep was enough for you to keep your emotions in check. Until yesterday.

A Scary Monster attacked you. Scary Monster tried to kill you.

You don't remember, how you managed to escape and got to your room.

Only in your room you get a small break.

You cried. You were scared and terrified. Scared of Monster, that almost killed you.

Whatever you look, you saw Monster.

You didn't feel safe. You made a shelter from everything you could move into the corner. In a small breaks, you were hitting the mirror in your room, where four centuries ago you saw her. And you begged.

"M-mom! P-please, I am scared! P-please, mom, I-I don't want to be an archon a-anymore. I don't like that game! P-please, m-mom, I... I want a hug! Mom, there is a scary Monster in Fontaine! It almost killed me! M-mom..."

She didn't come. She didn't appear in your room, or in the mirror. She didn't say, that she won't let anyone hurt you, that you will be okay.

You were alone. You were alone for the last four centuries.

You didn't sleep that night. And couldn't bring yourself to leave your room.

You tried to force yourself to leave the room. You tried to tell yourself, that you have an important task.

You didn't listen.

There was a Monster outside.

And it was searching for you

______

Neuvillette's heart aches, seeing his kid so scared and vulnerable. He carefully approached the shelter, and big tearful eyes watched his every step.

Neuvillette stopped before the shelter, sitting on the floor, making himself look smaller, more approachable. He slowly extended both hands towards the frightened child. They whimpered, curling into a ball. Neuvillette could see [Y/N] hugging a familiar plush Ball Octopus. Bubbly Seahorse and Armored Crab were also here, flanking the scared child.

"P-please, leave me alone." [Y/N] trembled, not looking at Neuvillette. "I will work from here today."

Neuvillette's frown deepen. There should be something he can do to make the kid calm down.

Neuvillette looked around. His gaze stopped on a familiar bookshelf, full of books about kids having families and getting ones.

A foggy memory surfaced on his mind.

A century ago, there was a relatively popular children's play in Mondstadt. A musical about a family having a happy life and going on adventures together.

There was a short Teyvat tour. In Fontaine, they were performing in Opera Epiclese.

[Y/N] watched all performances they had. Moreover, some melusines whispered about seeing Hydro Archon sneaking around the place, where acting troupe were practicing.

Neuvillette wasn't interested in children's plays. He barely remembered the tunes. But his kid needed it.

He started humming. One of the songs from the play, which mother sang to her children.

He didn't remember much. But now, repeating the melody over and over, he started to remember the tune.

[Y/N] stopped shaking. They were silently watching Neuvillette, tears running down kid's cheeks.

Neuvillette, still humming, extended his arms towards [Y/N] again.

This time they moved. With all of their three favorite plushies, they crawled towards Neuvillette. They left the shelter, letting Neuvillette see the unkempt appearance of normally tidy child.

Without letting their toys go, [Y/N] reached towards Neuvillette.

Still humming the lullaby, he hugged them, and slowly stand up, trying not to drop them and their toys.

He was holding them with one hand, while slowly petting their head with the other.

He put his chin on top of kid's head. Their hair was unkept, but fluffy.

[Y/N] were sobbing.

Neuvillette didn't speak, preferring to hum the melody. He managed to recall not only the whole motive, but, even some verses.

His voice never sounded so warm before.

"...My, beloved child please stay here, in my arms. While, you're still small and fragile I, will keep you safe from harm.."³

[Y/N] stopped sobbing. Now they were sitting here, with their face hidden in Neuvillette's chest.

Neuvillette didn't speak. He sang the song a few more times, before asking.

"Little one, tell me, who made you so upset? Your dad will punish them. Your dad will make sure, that no one will hurt you."

A pair of [e/c] eyed stared at Neuvillette.

______

You are supposed to be an archon.

A loud, boisterous god.

Lord of All Waters, Kindreds, Peoples, and Laws. God of justice.

But you weren't them. They are her titles.

Titles, that you supposed to pretend to have.

You are supposed to be strong. You should yell at Neuvillette. You should chew him out for braking the subordination.

You were a God of Fontaine.

You were a liar, who would probably be kicked out on the streets the morning moment the lie is discovered.

And who would probably still be kicked out, when That Trial is over.

You didn't want to think about it. You wanted to think, that after the prophecy is averted, and you will be free to live your own life, they will appear.

Your family.

Your dad, who will protect you, and who will take you on travels.

Your mom, who will give you warm hugs and sing you lullabies.

You will live in a small cozy cottage. You will attend school, play with friends, get good grades.

And your family will love you.

But, what if it was just a lie? What if no one will be here? What if you will be alone. Forever.

You should yell at Neuvillette, who sang you a lullaby. You should chew him out for wanting to be your dad.

You didn't want to do it. You will let his disrespectful attitude slide. Just for a bit.

You are just a kid, right? Y-you...

You wanted to have a family just for a bit. A protective father.

"Monster... I was attacked by a monster...⁴ I just wanted to play with a cat... I didn't do anything wrong! And then monster..."

You were still crying. Neuvillette tighten his hug. He fought the urge to growl. He didn't want to scare you.

He caught his reflection in the window's glass.

His eyes became even more dragon-like. Slits of pupils became even thinner, irises became dark-purple, and scleras became light-purple.

He didn't growl, but he did bare his teeth. His canines became sharp, too sharp to be human teeth. Dragon's fangs. Neuvillette wondered if they were sharp enough to tear apart the monster.

Not now. He should make sure, that his dragonet are safe.

_____

"Don't be mistaken, Monsieur Neuvillette, I do respect you. Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa view you as an embodiment of Fontaine's Laws and Justice. However, I can't help, but wondering, what keeps Lord [Y/N] so busy? They have been missing official diplomatic meetings. Is Fontaine trying to send a message? Maybe, Snezhnaya became too insignificant in eyes of Hydro Archon. So insignificant, that Hydro Archon didn't care about meeting with a diplomat in person."

Arlecchino looked at him above the teacup. Neuvillette's face was emotionless. He waited for her to take a sip.

"Mademoiselle Arlecchino, don't you think, that you are crossing the line? Or did Cryo Archon make the most rude and mindless donkeys Snezhnayan diplomats?"

Arlecchino coughed, choking on a tea. Neuvillette's face still was emotionless, but he was delighted. Because, if she was the monster, who attacked his dragonet, she deserved nothing, but pain.

"Lord [Y/N] decided to spend all their time on solving the prophecy. The fate of a nation is more important, than a little dispute over Snezhnayan harbinger."

Arlecchino finally caught her breath.

"It's... not a little dispute. Childe was arrested for some unknown reasons, Fontaine didn't do anything to investigate his case, and you are refusing to let us investigate. One would think, that Fontaine want to cut ties with Snezhnaya."

Neuvillette looked through the window. His thoughts were far away. He was thinking about a home, far away from the capital. About small pound at the front yard with otters. About cozy rooms. And about his little dragonet. What were you doing right now? Were you reading? Were you playing? He hopped, that you weren't crying or trembling with fear. Because you were afraid, that monster will attack you again.

Three days ago he got you away from Palais Mermonia. He took you in his own house. It was secure, no one knew where it was. He promised, that you will be safe there. There was everything you will ever need. Cozy room, toys, books. Friendly otters, tasty food.

A good place to raise a dragonet.

And while dragonet are safe in their nest, Dragon Dad will hunt.

He didn't care, that you don't know who exactly attacked you. He would find out.

"Fortress of Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. Lord [Y/N] and I can't order Duke Wriothesley to release your colleague. Either spoke with Duke directly, or wait for Marechaussee Phantom to investigate his case. And stop lecturing me on how to run a nation."

He looked directly in Arlecchino's eyes.

"Now, I believe, that we have nothing else to discuss."

Harbinger stayed silent. With a nod, she stood up.

"We will continue our discussion later, Monsieur Neuvillette."

When she left, Neuvillette whispered.

"We will, if you are the one, who hurt my dragonet."

---

------

----

Neuvillette didn't really want to help Arlecchino or Childe. But he did ask Traveler and Paimon to get to Fortress of Meropide just to get make that annoying harbinger to shut up.

It took them a few days to learn about Childe's disappearance. However, they only decided to give a full report to Neuvillette after their month-long sentence was over. Neuvillette wasn't paying attention to their report. He was checking the list of names he made.

All Fontainians, all melusines, all tourists and diplomats. Everyone could have been the one, who attacked [Y/N] a month ago. Some names were crossed. He checked their alibis, and they were innocent. He still has a lot of names in his list.

"Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, [Y/N] were always an Archon, right?" Paimon's question caught Neuvillette's attention. He looked at flying fairy, raising an eyebrow. Paimon was obvious to Neuvillette's confusion, and to Aether's 'Paimon, no' whispers.

"Of course they always were. What a strange question."

Neuvillette return to his list. Paimon, still obvious to Aether's whispers, explained.

"The Knave told us, that [Y/N] might be a liar. They don't have a gnosis."

Neuvillette dropped his pen. He slowly looked at Paimon again. Fairy start explaining, while Aether just rubbed his forehead in defeat.

"Oh... One month ago she tried to get the Hydro Gnosis..."

One month ago... When [Y/N]...

"...She waited, when [Y/N] were alone..."

His child, after another nightmare filled night was crying, while he was hugging them...

His eyes became more draconic...

"...they didn't fight, only begged to be spared..."

They again barricaded all windows in the house. Afraid, that one day monster will return...

Fangs broke the skin of his lips, filling his mouth with metallic taste of blood...

"...there were no gnosis, but they survived..."

They were spooked by a snapped twig, thinking, that monster was coming...

Sharp claws shredded the useless list...

"... perhaps, they just cursed. Maybe, if we face Lord [Y/N] in court..."

WHAT THESE PESTS THINK THEY ARE?!

"OUT!!!"

Neuvillette's roar shook Palais Mermonia, and terrified Aether and Paimon ran away.

Neuvillette, now more of a beast, than a human, sank his claws in the table.

Arlecchino. She was his target after all.

The hunt was on.

-----

Next few days Neuvillette couldn't look for Arlecchino. Poisson was flooded with Primordial Sea waters. People start demanding to see [Y/N], who still were staying in his home.

During days Neuvillette was dealing with aftermath if the flood.

At nights, he was taking care of [Y/N]. Their nightmares finally became less frequent. They even started to play outside more often.

There was a trial scheduled for today. Surprisingly, details of the trial were hidden from him.

For some reason, instead of a trial, Lyney and Lynette were performing. Neuvillette was ready to leave, when twins performed their last trick.

On a stage three people appeared.

Traveler, Paimon and utterly terrified you.

-----

You were just taking a small walk. You wanted to pick up some flowers to make a flower crown for Neuvillette.

The last month were scary, but you have never been happier before. You felt like a normal child who have the greatest dad in the world.

Somehow, you were found by people of Fontaine. They were shouting. Demanding answers from you.

You ran. Traveler found you and take you to a safe place.

In some cruel twist of fate, he got you into the court.

Aether's voice wasn't loud, but for you, it sounded like yelling.

"Your honor, I would like to charge Lord [Y/N] as a fraud who's never been the Archon in the first place."

You were trying to keep yourself together. You can't let them see your fear.

Neuvillette could barely contain his anger.

"I won't tolerate baseless accusations in the Court. There will be no trial today."

"But, Monsieur Neuvillette, by Fontaine laws..."

She still was talking, but neither you nor Neuvillette heard her.

Arlecchino was standing on the stage.

You start to back away, until your back was pressed directly to Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale.

You recognize her.

Monster finally found you.

You felt alone. Monster was here. Fontaine hated you. You wanted to return to Neuvillette's home. Tou you home.

Neuvillette's blood boiled. She was here. She was scaring his child.

But there was one thing he heard.

"D-dad!" his child called, and Neuvillette moved.

Neither him nor you noticed, how Indemnitium in Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale start going wild.

-------

Heavy body crushed into Arlecchino. Neuvillette's boot immediately pressed her head was against the stage.

"I will inlaid your broken body on Hydro Archon's statue!"

Neuvillette didn't care about screams of audience. He didn't care about narwhal, that was ready to consume everyone in sight.

He only cared about killing the harbinger.

Suddenly, the room felt with light. Noises were gone.

Narwhal was gone.

Arlecchino was gone.

[Y/N] were gone.

Only her.... Hydro Usurper was here.

Hydro Sovereign and Hydro Archon looked at each other.

"They called for you. They called you 'mother'." Neuvillette didn't blink.

"I... am not their mother..." Focalor's voice was weak. There was no use in saying anything. She could see it.

Her decision in taking away more powers, in making child a false archon, lead to this. At first, she thought, that hydro dragon might find [Y/N] adorable, and it will save Fontaine.

He did find [Y/N] adorable.

But, it looks like Fontaine's fate won't be as good as she hoped it would be.

Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale fell on her.

Hydro Sovereign's authority was restored.

-----

You were back home. Some melusines were keeping your company, while you were playing outside.

Everywhere you look, you saw walls of water, that now separated Fontaine from the rest of Teyvat.

Neuvillette left, saying, that he must deal with the monster.

------

Hydro Sovereign powers over the Primordial Sea were exceptional. He could easily give people of Fontaine a temporary forgives for their sins, or could easily create walls, made of Primordial Sea waters.

He could also easily make that walls a normal water again. And take away the forgiveness.

"Bring me the harbinger, if you don't want to dissolve in waters of the Primordial Sea."

She was here. Standing before him.

For the first time in ages, he was in his full dragon form. His talons grabbed her.

Hydro dragon spoke, and his voice made the earth quake.

"You are guilty. Pay for your crimes with your blood."

He was a dragon, but his horns weren't that sharp. In the water teeth and claws were much more useful for hunting.

To impale someone with his horns will be a torture. For an impaled.

And Neuvillette would love every second of it.

------

Natlan was a nation of dragons.

Place, where humans and saurians live together.

Fontaine became a nation of a dragon and his dragonet.

Neuvillette, Hydro Sovereign, ruled over the nation. He was a judge and an executor.

But you were the one who were sitting on the throne.

A child, who were adored by Hydro Dragon. Child, for whom Neuvillette will flood Teyvat.

Perhaps, you were supposed to do something about it. To tell Neuvillette, that he is wrong.

But you won't do it.

Not when he was taking care of you, when he was making sure that you are happy.

You always wanted to have a family. And, at that point of your life, you didn't care, if Fontaine's freedom was the price for your happiness.

¹ Quest-exqlusive melusines from canon. Ceasth is from Sigewinne's story quest, Enghiene is from "Lil' Fungi's Fun-Tastic Fiesta" and "Dance of Resolute Will" events.

²Headcannon time! It seems, "Lord" title for Archons are gender-neutral. We have Lord Barbatos, who, despite having an androgynous statue, is a male for in-universe people (see 'Sub-Space Boulder: Verdant Peak' description), and Greater Lord Rukkhadevata with Lesser Lord Kusanali, two females. I didn't want to use canonical Regina, because it is a female title.

³https://youtu.be/7bXnWKxdry8?si=UujvicBmoMmicdRU

⁴ Headcannon time. It seems, that at first Furina didn't recognize, who attacked her until she met Arlecchino later during official meeting.

[ramblingandpie]

[Image description: screencap of tags reading #so many thoughts about the notes here

#i'm just gonna say that the civil servants i know who are just trying

to make society work are often begging for more people to opine

#there are secure white people with nothing better to do who spend

all their time making their opinions heard

#just to feel alive

#i cant guarantee anything but i know there are people in

government who would want to help your voice be heard

#if only you knew who to speak to

#so start saying what it is you need to say to everybody you might

possibly need to say it to

#and get better at saying it #and make your thoughts known

#because there are people who your thoughts matter to

#yes even in a red state

#i don't in any way believe the way our government works is ideal but

you need to use the tools that are available to you to make life bette

#civil and otherwise.

End description.]

This particular civil servant would love if folks would use alt text.

And also, yes, please send in feedback. We want to know. We need to know. Sometimes I know something is An Problem but unless people complain I am not allocated resources to fix Yon Problemme. We literally keep binders of program feedback sorted by topic. We use them to make our plans and agendas of what to work on and where to allocate resources.

We care!! We want the program to go smoothly!! And! If you're like "oh but this is a minor problem" we may genuinely have no idea!! Typically, the people who are doing the regulatory work and procedure updates and such? Are NOT the frontline staff who sees "minor" problems. Like. I see the most messed up of claims where everything has gone wrong and while yes obviously those DO need to be addressed... I also am completely out of the loop on more minor issues unless someone tells me. And sometimes it's a really easy fix!!! Or it's something we can incorporate into something else we're working on!!! And I try to be proactive (like... if I'm working on an update for A Chonker Of A Problem, I try to reach out to people who deal even remotely with that problem and ask them to please tell me any and all issues they run into, because like... if I have to remake a form? I'd rather do it right????)

Anyway wow this has turned into a rant but yes there are definitely civil servants who care. Most of us, I reckon.

Strongly recommend calling your reps and freaking out on the phone, both as a self care practice and so they can know that their normally chill constituents are saying things like “I guess if I can’t teach kindergarten teachers to be nicer anymore I shall have to become a bonus army”

[princeloww]

what was the first DT role you watched? excluding nativity 2, mine was actually inside man??? which I know is a bit weird

(sorry I don't want to add too many options)

[genderisareligion]

The elusive "TERF" is actually just a mirror

All its devotees know is projection. When I started this blog in late 2020 I more frequently used the tag #DARVO in action to start keeping track of the blatant lies TRAs spew that are really just a tell about their crowd (DARVO = Deny Attack Reverse Victim Offend, a strategy used often by DV abusers) and I just have to start making this cumulative post because:

They're now saying John Money was a radical feminist. Lmfao 💀 The male cracker extraordinaire (we don't even think males can be feminists let alone human most of the time) most responsible for the word gender's mistranslation as something that describes human behavior rather than the behavior of languages (most of which aren't even English), the idiot torturer who's a major reason the intersex community has to guard itself so fiercely against "normative" surgeries, who once claimed that anyone skeptical of his "girl = pink, boy = blue, I must fix anyone else" theories actually just believed that "masculinity and femininity are baked into the genes and women should get back to the kitchen" (sound familiar? What are "TERFs" always being accused of?) Like bro that's you

"TERFs are fascists who need everyone to fit into the male or the female box" actually gender abolition would mean no more boxes besides the purely categorical chromosomal ones we can't help from birth, and actually trying to force everyone to fall somewhere on a scale of femininity and masculinity and positing intersex conditions as the "middle" creates an unnecessary dichotomy amongst particularly females, where a woman born with PCOS is considered "less female" than one without regardless of how she "identifies," and the more "masculine" you are (whatever that even means) the more your body requires meds and surgery.

"TERFs align with fascists" but y'all are the ones with the Big Pharma billions paving your way so lol sorry not sorry but as a Negro it's giving the way they used to experiment on us for profit, refine their methods for research and leave us for dead or permanently disabled. And y'all think it's empowering? You think they actually care that you're personally fulfilled? You think they won't pull another Henrietta Lacks? You think all these detrans people are just flukes? They'll take your thousands of dollars until you're in debt and pump you full of more dubious "treatment" as long as it means they get to keep quietly going home to their white picket fences where all their loved ones are fine pretending they're heroes rather than profiting off others' pain. What is fascism if not allowing the medical establishment to "correct undesirables"?

"TERFs are Nazis" but the "first ever transgender surgery" on "trans woman" Lillie Ebe was performed by literal fucking Nazi Erwin Gohrbrandt who believed "mentally ill people were considered 'feeble-minded' (this was an actual, formal term) and homosexuals were considered to also be 'feeble-minded' and have inferior genes." Fun fact, Lillie was also a fucking Nazi.

"TERFs are all white supremacists" but everyone I just mentioned up there is a fucking white supremacist and not even Google agrees with you there, searches for the word TERF are done almost entirely in Western nations like the US and UK, whereas searches for radfem are balanced worldwide and in fact an African country is #1 on one of those lists, and you can't argue that those searches are by TERFs themselves because "try Googling TERF right now and seeing how many if any positive references show up"

I have more after 4 years lol but lemme cook

[jungkoode]

OFF-LABELS | O3

→ PAIRING : Med Student!Hoseok x F!Reader (Brother’s Best Friend AU)

→ RATING: Mature, 18+, suggestive tones.

→ DATE POSTED:

→ SUMMARY: You’ve spent four years convincing yourself that your brother’s best friend is just being nice when he remembers your coffee order, quizzes you on neuroanatomy, or lets his touch linger a second too long. Because there’s no way that the golden boy of Seoul National’s medical program might actually be flirting with you. Especially when he keeps saying things that could be perfectly innocent… if only he didn’t say them in that voice.

→ TAGS: second person perspective, female reader, medical school au, brother’s best friend trope, age gap (4 years), pining, touch starved, overthinking reader, confident hoseok, gentle dom hoseok, medical terminology as flirting (lmao), study sessions, domestic moments, innocent (but not really), plausible deniability king hoseok, anxiety, internal monologue, guilty crushes, subtle teasing, emotional edging, gentle manipulation, praise kink undertones, intellectual attraction, competency kink, hand fixation, voice kink, medical intern hoseok, first year med student reader, home setting, casual intimacy, unresolved sexual tension (for now), secret attraction, nervous rambling, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts, anatomy lessons with ulterior motives, competent hoseok, flustered reader, close proximity, accidental touches that aren’t accidents.

→ CONTENT in this chapter: Hoseok being a menace with medical terminology, innocent (but absolutely calculated) comments about oral muscle endurance, subtext so thick it's suffocating, plausible deniability at an elite level, flustered reader, casual intimacy that feels dangerous, and dinner table tension that might actually kill you.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQ | WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

→ MINI SERIES: NEXT | PREVIOUS

→ A/N: Listen. I don't know what is wrong with me. I sat down to write something normal, and then suddenly I was researching orofacial muscle fatigue like a lunatic. WHY is this man like this? Why does he say things so kindly while ruining your life? Why is he explaining anatomy while looking directly at you like that? Anyway. This chapter is dedicated to anyone who has ever choked on their food while someone smiled at them way too nicely.

PLAYLIST

It starts in the kitchen.

Which is unfortunate, because the kitchen is small. And there are only so many places to stand before proximity becomes a problem.

You’re hyperaware of it—the space (limited), the air (too warm), him (entirely too close). But it’s fine. You’re fine. You’re just making tea, and he’s just existing, leaning against the counter like this is his apartment instead of your brother’s. Like he belongs here. Like his presence isn’t making it impossible for you to function like a normal person.

(He’s not even doing anything. Which somehow makes it worse.)

“I didn’t know you liked green tea.” His voice is easy, just conversational. Not a trap. Probably.

You don’t look at him. Can’t. “Yeah. I mean—I do. It’s good. Antioxidants and stuff.”

Brilliant. Truly stunning commentary.

Hoseok just hums, and you hear the soft clink of his rings against his glass as he lifts it to his lips. He’s drinking water, which seems unfair. Water is neutral. Water doesn’t require decisions. Meanwhile, you’re standing here, internally debating whether you’re taking too long to steep this tea, if leaving the bag in too long will make you seem weird, if—

“Relax, Chip.”

The words are casual. Just a little offhanded throwaway of a comment. But it lands like a dropped match, tiny but catastrophic.

You blink. Slowly. “What?”

Hoseok sets his glass down with a soft thud and turns to you fully, eyebrows lifted in lazy amusement. “You’re overthinking your tea.”

He says it like it’s obvious. Like it’s a thing people do—casually observe someone else’s entire internal meltdown and name it out loud.

Which, to be fair, is exactly what he’s doing.

Your ears feel hot. “I am not.”

“You are.”

He’s enjoying this. You can tell. It’s in the corner of his mouth, the hint of a smile he’s barely holding back. Not mean—just knowing.

And then it clicks. The name.

Chip.

“Wait,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Did you just call me—”

His grin sharpens, eyes flashing with something teasing, but infuriatingly innocent. “Yeah,” he says, like it’s no big deal. “Chip. Short for chipmunk.”

You stare at him. Your brain scrambles for a response and comes up with absolutely nothing.

He keeps going, undeterred. “You do this thing when you’re overthinking—” He gestures vaguely at your face, at you. “Your cheeks puff up. Just a little.”

Absolutely not. That does not happen.

Except—you know exactly what he’s talking about.

Which means he’s noticed.

You turn back to your tea, because looking at him feels impossible. “That’s not a real thing.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“It is,” he says again, softer this time. Almost amused.

You risk a glance at him. He’s watching you, expression easy, mouth still curled slightly at the edges.

It’s not a big deal.

It’s just a nickname.

But you can feel it settling somewhere deep in your chest, warm and unwelcome, curling into the spaces he’s already managed to take up.

Chip.

You should tell him not to call you that.

You should absolutely, definitively tell him not to call you that.

But you don’t.

You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything.

That he’s just being himself—casual, playful, thoughtless in the way people like him can afford to be. That it’s just a nickname, not a calculated attack on your sanity.

And yet.

Yet.

You feel it every time he says it after that.

The first time, it’s two days later. He and your brother are in the living room, a game on in the background, when you walk by with your laptop. You aren’t even stopping—just passing through—when he glances up and says it like it’s always been your name.

“Where you off to, Chip?”

The sound of it makes you trip over your own feet. Embarrassingly. You don’t even answer, just keep walking, face burning, fully aware of the way he watches you go.

Then it happens again.

And again.

Sometimes it’s subtle, slipped in like an afterthought. “Hey, Chip, toss me that.” “You always this quiet, Chip?”

Other times it’s deliberate. Measured. Like he’s testing the weight of it, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll react.

You don’t.

You refuse.

(Which only seems to encourage him.)

And then one night, it’s just the two of you. Your brother’s in the shower, music spilling under the bathroom door, and you’re curled up on the couch, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Hoseok is sitting way too close for comfort.

His arm is slung over the back of the couch, loose and easy, and every so often, when you shift, your shoulder brushes against his.

(You should move. You should absolutely move.)

Instead, you stay where you are and pretend to be very, very interested in the show playing on the screen.

Hoseok shifts. You feel the weight of his attention before you see it.

“You don’t like it?”

You blink. “What?”

“The nickname.” His voice is low, smooth, barely above the sound of the TV. “You never say anything about it.”

You don’t know what to do with that. Don’t know what to do with him, watching you like he’s reading something written just under your skin.

“It’s fine,” you say, and it’s not convincing.

His lips twitch, but his voice stays neutral. “You sure?”

You nod, too quickly.

There’s a beat of silence. You can hear the shower running down the hall, the TV filling the air with white noise.

And then—so soft you almost don’t catch it—

“Good.”

It lingers in the space between you, something light, something easy. But you feel it settle somewhere deeper. Somewhere dangerous.

Because now, you know for certain.

He’s not going to stop.

And that’s the problem. It’s a problem. Because Hoseok is nice.

He’s just nice.

He’s warm and charming in a way that isn’t practiced—it just is. The kind of person who remembers how you take your coffee after hearing it once, who laughs with his whole chest, who makes people feel like they belong.

He’s good at things, too. Competent in that effortless way that makes it infuriatingly easy to admire him. You’ve seen him fix things around your brother’s apartment without being asked, roll up his sleeves and lean under the sink like it’s nothing, like he was built for it.

(Not that you were watching. Not that you noticed the way the muscles in his forearms shift when he grips a wrench.)

The point is—this is just how he is. With everyone.

So it’s fine.

Everything is fine.

Or at least, it would be, if he’d stop saying things.

Because then, it happens at dinner.

And the reason for Hoseok being here is simple.

He’s always here for dinner.

Not every night, but often enough that it’s routine. That your parents barely bat an eye when they see him at the table, that your mom still sets an extra plate for him when she cooks, that your dad asks about his job like he’s part of the family.

Because he might as well be.

He and Caleb have been friends since his first year of university—long enough for Hoseok to be comfortable in this house, for your parents to know his favorite foods, for you to be so used to him being around that you shouldn’t be affected by it anymore.

(And yet. And yet.)

Dinner is normal.

It’s just the five of you at the table, passing dishes around, the smell of takeout filling the air. The conversation is easy, punctuated by laughter, by the scrape of chopsticks against plastic containers.

It’s nice. It’s comfortable.

Or at least—it should be.

Except your eyes keep tracking him. They always do. The way he sits—too at ease, too familiar. The way his sleeves are pushed up just enough to be distracting. The way his fingers grip his chopsticks, loose and confident, movements fluid and practiced.

(It’s stupid. It’s stupid that you’re noticing these things.)

Your dad is asking Hoseok something about work, and you force yourself to focus, desperate to ground yourself in the conversation instead of spiraling into a pit of your own making.

“How are you managing, with the residency?”

“It’s been busy,” Hoseok says, setting his chopsticks down neatly. “But good. No complaints.”

Your mom tuts. “You work too much.”

Hoseok just smiles, warm and self-effacing. “It’s not so bad.”

Your dad nods approvingly. “That’s a good mindset. A little hard work never hurt anyone.”

“And at least someone in this house is doing it,” Caleb says, nudging you lightly under the table.

You roll your eyes. “I work plenty.”

“Studying doesn’t count,” Caleb argues, because he loves to be annoying.

“It literally does.”

Your mom sighs, long-suffering. “Can we have one meal where you two don’t bicker?”

You sit back in your chair, focusing very hard on your plate, on not looking at the person sitting just to your right. The conversation flickers and tumbles around you, but you don’t register much of it.

And then—

“You should use your mouth more, Chip.”

The table goes quiet.

Your heart stops.

Your stomach plummets.

Your entire soul leaves your body, hovering somewhere above the dinner table, watching this play out like a nightmare in slow motion.

Because—because—

He didn’t mean it like that. He can’t have meant it like that. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

Your dad is right there. Your mom is right there.

Hoseok is just sitting there, utterly relaxed, a picture of perfect innocence.

You’re the only one who reacts.

And that’s the problem.

Your brother—oblivious, as always—just scoffs. “I keep telling her that.”

The world tilts.

Your face burns.

Because Caleb just agreed. Like this is a normal conversation. Like this is fine.

And maybe it is fine.

Maybe you just missed something again—some context, some crucial piece of information that would make this make sense.

You frantically rewind the last few minutes, trying to figure out how this could possibly be about—

“She eats too fast,” Caleb continues, like he’s talking about the weather. “I’ve been saying it for years.”

Your entire body deflates.

Oh.

Oh.

It’s nothing.

It’s just about chewing. About how you’re always the first to finish your plate, about how your brother has been calling you out for it since you were kids.

You were imagining it.

Your hands are clammy. Your heartbeat is still a mess. But you take a slow breath, trying to pull yourself back together.

You force a weak, strangled sort of laugh. “Right. That.”

Hoseok hums, tilting his head slightly. “I wouldn’t say that.”

He taps his chopsticks against his lower lip, slow and thoughtful, as if genuinely weighing his next words. Then, with the kind of mild, absentminded curiosity that should not be dangerous but absolutely is, he continues—

“Oral muscles are surprisingly adaptable. With the right conditioning, they can handle prolonged exertion without fatigue.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Absolutely not.

You’re suddenly hyper-aware of everything—the weight of his voice, the way the words land, the way your lungs forget how to function. You try—desperately—to convince yourself that he means nothing by it, that this is just a fun little fact, the kind of thing anyone might say in casual conversation.

(Except no one says things like that in casual conversation.)

Your parents don’t react. Your brother doesn’t even blink. They just keep eating like this is normal, like this is fine.

You, meanwhile, are staring at your plate, trying not to choke on air.

And just as you’re about to die from sheer mortification, he adds—

“For instance, brass players develop impressive endurance. Hours of embouchure control, you know?”

Embouchure control.

You think you might be having an out-of-body experience.

Because he’s not even looking at you. He’s just sitting there—calm, innocent, like he’s just making an offhand comment about music, like he’s not actively ruining your life.

It’s fine. It’s nothing. It’s science.

(Except it’s not.)

You need to leave.

You shove your chair back, your hands shaking. “I’m—gonna grab some water.”

Hoseok watches you go. You feel it.

At the sink, you grip the counter, staring hard at the faucet as you fill your glass.

It’s fine.

It’s nothing.

You’re imagining things.

It’s Hoseok being Hoseok—friendly, completely unaware of the way his words get tangled in your head, twisted into shapes they were never meant to take.

You gulp down half the glass, hoping it might cool the heat rising under your skin.

Behind you, the conversation moves on. Your dad is talking about a trip, your mom is mentioning something about the neighbors.

Everything is fine.

But when you turn back, Hoseok is still watching you.

Not in a way anyone else would notice—not in a way your brother does, too focused on his food, or in a way your parents would think twice about—but in a way that you notice.

In a way that makes something low in your stomach twist, tight and uncertain.

And then, like he knows, like he can read the exact trajectory of your thoughts, Hoseok smiles.

Soft. Innocent.

Like he didn't do anything at all.

→ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @just-reading-dany @sanarin @billy-jeans23 @stuti2904 @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe

© 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓.

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[ratanslily]

Just Ask.

Book: hsr. Pairing: AnnaLane. Ratings: G. Words: 782-ish. Warnings: none, just fluff. A/N: ooc to the max I'm sorryyy. Dmitry being a grumpy older brother. Tags: @rc-catalog Feb 7: only one bed | blanket-sharing, a gift for @agattthaa happy valentine's and fck aleksandra‼️

"Are you serious, General? No girl advice for me? You're a freaking general. Kira is literally all over you."

Anna fixes her brother with a glare, crossing her arms over her chest, mimicking his stance. To which he just sighs and shrugs his shoulders.

"C'mon, Anna. I have more work than being a matchmaker for you. Just, I don't know. Kiss her or something. Get her to cuddle you. I've literally put you both in the same room, what else can I do for you?"

"Ugh, fine. I'll handle it myself."

--

And that's how Anna found herself in front of Lane's bed, cooking up all sorts of excuses to get into hers.

"You see, my bed's all wet. I dropped tea over it and I would appreciate it if you could just-"

"-Let you sleep in mine?"

"I- Yeah. Exactly. If that's fine by you, I suppose."

".."

Lane isn't exactly comfortable sharing her space with others, but.. it's Anna. She's been sharing her outfits with her selflessly, so why shouldn't she share her bed with her? It's just for one night, right?

Right.

She scoots over, making way for the scientist to slip under the heavy blanket, onto the warm bed, leaving enough space for her to fit in comfortably.

"Thanks."

Anna watches as Lane pulls the blanket over her, and traps them underneath it, a world of their own, cut off from everything. From Rotkov, from abominations, from heaven and hell. Their shared space, warm and comforting.. theirs alone.

Maybe she should initiate something?

"Kiss her or something. Get her to cuddle you."

Dmitry's words ring in her mind. But damnit, how the hell should she do that? She's right there in front of her, so close. Just one lean forward, and her nose will touch the mole on her face. So close, just one, oh one freaking step! But she only manages to say, over the beat of her heart pounding in her ears,

"It's cold."

"I know."

"Can I come closer?"

"Wait. Stay there, I'll do it."

Lane shrugs, and scoots closer to her nonchalantly.

"Better?"

Anna sees a chance, and grabs it. She responds by placing her arms on Lane's waist.

"Yes. Now, better."

Theres a certain satisfaction in seeing Lane's usually relaxed eyes widen that bit. Her usually composed body, now tensing up at the contact. Her cheeks turning red from brown. Her breathing turning deep, apparent by the way her chest heaves. It makes her feel oddly satisfied. She did.. that. She caused it.

She wonders how far can she go. How far she'll allow her to go. Will she allow her to cuddle her? To press herself onto her warm body? To rest her head on her heart? To feel it beating wildly, mirroring hers?

A kiss, maybe?

Only one way to test it out..

Anna musters her courage. Under the proximity of the blanket, she inches closer, and closer, like the first snowflake drifting through the misty air from the cloudy sky.

It feels like forever, it feels like time is stuck in place, as if watching them get closer herself.

And finally, the snowflake lands onto the warm ground, melting into it.

...Finally, her lips meet Lane's soft ones, her lipstick giving off a sweet scent.

At first, she's scared. What if she pushes her away? What if she gets disgusted? What if, she doesn't want to kiss her back?

BUT her fears were for nothing!

Lane blinks a very "what are you doing?" look, but kisses her back anyway, as if starving for this very moment since the moment she stepped into their lair. Her hands in her hair, Anna's bangs tousled from the action. From where does her body end, and from where does hers begin? She doesn't know. All she knows is the feel of her lips on Lane's and her tongue mingling with the latter's. Her hands go up her back, feeling her spine, feeling each curve, each bone, feeling her arch against her.

Sheets rustle, and Anna wraps her legs around her waist, drawing her even closer.

So hot, so intense.

maybe, even too hot.

Unfortunately, Anna's glass fog up, which is how their kisses stop, and they pull away from each other, Lane suppressing a chuckle at that.

It was a cute sight, Anna taking off her glasses, and frantically rubbing it against her shirt to clear it off.

"Why on earth would you wear glasses to bed?"

"To see you better, duh."

"Contact lens exist. And you like them."

"Eh. Uncomfortable while sleeping."

"And glasses are comfortable for that?"

To which Anna doesn't have an answer. She got her there. Why did she even not notice her glasses were still on? Maybe it slipped though her mind..

"And just so you know, I saw you dumping your tea over your bed.."

Uh, yikes. Awkward.

"Well."

"If you wanted us to share a bed.."

Lane continues, entwining her fingers with hers and looking into her eyes.

"You could just ask, you know."

And that was all Anna needed to hear.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Random but I love how you treat ships you hate and shippers of ships you hate, every time I see someone (usually) on twt being an ass for no reason about shipping, I remember "oh yeah, not everyone's unreasonably insane about this." and it becomes less depressing to deal with. You're like a fandom behavior rolemodel 👍

There just isn't really a reason to be mean to people for something like that, you know? There are ships that straight up give me radiation poisoning (look through my blog, you'll figure out which ones they are lol). You know what I do? I block the ship tags and move along lol. I don't seek any content out, here or anywhere else. Nor do I go out of my way to bother people who like those ships. What's there to gain from being an asshole to randos? What was their crime? Liking something I don't?

All shipping is, at the end of the day, is... playing dollhouse. There's no sense in getting mad at people for making the "wrong" dolls kiss. Plenty of people don't like BurningCheese (unbelievably disappointing but it's ok) or any other ships I like, and that's fine. I have friends, acquaintances, mutuals, followers and what-have-you who don't like my ships and who like ships I don't. It's no skin off my nose. Live and let live. They're talking cookies from a phone game, what does it matter lol (and you can apply this logic to any fandom, really. It's all make-believe, why get so bent out of shape about it?)

Like, I know I sound upset when I DO happen to bring up ships I want to set on fire, but it's honestly not a big deal haha. I exaggerate my tone online because Internet Time is Silly Time for me. I truly do not care if you like Sh*dowSp*ce or H*llyt*ya or whatever else. I just want to be here focusing on stuff I DO like. Writing my BurningCheese fics and making my little BurningCheese family and gushing over BurningCheese and ShadowVanilla and PitayaFire and (insert other ships I like here). Happiness is the best revenge, as the saying goes haha

TL;DR: I try to live by this wise saying, and I think everyone else should, too:

[veryace-ficrecs]

TimBern Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Meeting the Gay, Stupid and Large Traumabonded Family by Ineffective_Invocations23 - Rated T

Bernard meets the Batfamily. Hijinks ensue, I guess.

whatever souls are made of (his and mine are the same) by forevernightfall - Rated T

“Tim, you can't keep overworking yourself like this,” Bernard says, taking his boyfriend's hands in his own hand and lifting them to his lips for a delicate kiss.

Tim's eyes soften noticeably. “Bear, you know I can't–”

“Can't or won't?”

___________________

or, bernard knows his boyfriend works too much, so he'll have to do something about i

a study by bernard dowd by cv_angels - Rated T

Bernard opens the laptop, spinning it to face Tim with a flourish. It’s a powerpoint with a truly hideous red background, and Tim feels a moment of relief that Bernard isn’t breaking up with him before he registers the words on the slide. REASONS WHY TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE IS A SUPERHERO, A STUDY BY BERNARD DOWD. - Based on my post on tumblr: "I’m obsessed with the idea that Bernard like. Figures out that Tim is a superhero but guesses the wrong one. Like he compiles all this evidence and makes a PowerPoint and presents it to Tim and is like “Tim. I figured it out. You’re Impulse.”"

(bleeding out) for you by cv_angels - Rated T

“You know what’s crazy?” Bernard says, pausing his ministrations. “My boyfriend has the exact same scar there.” He taps at a mess of scar tissue across Tim’s shoulder. Bernard’s eyes narrow, and Tim stills as his hands travel to a scar across his ribs. “And there.” A light touch to his chest where he’d been stabbed by a Batarang so many years ago. “And here. Something you want to tell me, Boy Wonder?”

Tim gets badly injured on patrol and breaks into Bernard's apartment to patch himself up. Bernard happens to be home and offers to help, but notices perhaps more than Tim intended.

seething shadows, breathing lies by cv_angels - Rated T

Bernard is saved from answering by the roar of a motorbike as it speeds into the cave, skidding to a halt. The rider pulls off their helmet, and Bernard’s own face stares back at him for a moment before turning to Batman. “B,” he says, “We have a situation.” - Tim has a run-in with a magic user. It's kind of hard to maintain a secret identity when someone else is in your body. A Timber bodyswap au.

you don't like my clothes but you still like my smile by ambrutus - Not Rated

Tim climbs up the fire escape on the side of the building until he gets to Bernard’s window. He knocks quietly, trying not to alert anyone else in the house that he’s sitting outside Bernard’s window like a creeper. Bernard’s lamp light flicks on as the man himself looks towards the window in confusion. Tim waves. Bernard stares at Tim a little longer before suddenly jerking up and out of bed. He opens the window and waves for Tim to come inside. He climbs in and Bernard closes the window behind him. “What are you doing here?” Bernard asks, not unkindly. He’s still blinking blearily at Tim like he can’t believe he's here, in his bedroom at 1 am. or, 5 times Tim climbs through Bernard's window (and 1 time Bernard climbs through his)

live a movie, life is hard, consquences only matter if you ever plan to get far by terrytheboxwithlimbs - Rated T

"He is not an idiot. He is fully aware that he’s practically speedrunning his self-destruction and is on the path to either an early grave or a one-way ticket to the psych ward. It’s not even that he doesn’t care, he just feels so far removed from himself that it hardly matters. So he’s watching himself implode with a detached sort of interest. Like, 'wow, that’s happening. That Bernard guy sure did slice his arm open on a whim, entirely unprompted - that’s wild, man.' But, by some sort of fucking miracle, he’s still alive. He’s made it this far, and that has to count for something, right? He hopes it does. God, he hopes it does." or Bernard finally admits that he needs help.

We Have It Handled by Peppermint_Magician_Lynn - Rated G

Tim is stuck in bed, sick from a cold. While he has a lot of things that have to get done, Bernard has made sure everything is taken care of.

A Spideoigín by roseandgold137 - Rated G

Bernard didn’t even notice it when it started. Of course, it was fairly obvious in hindsight that it had been happening, but it was so gradual that Bernard just… never caught on. Until this morning, that is. Having just stumbled out of bed, Bernard stood blearily in front of the coffee maker as he waited for his cup to be ready. Tim followed him out of their room some minutes later, gummy-eyed and hair askew.

Someday by sufiken - Not Rated

Tim always got hurt. And Bernard couldn't do anything about it. He's okay with canceled dates , or not able to see Tim for months. But the thought of losing Tim scares him.

A Med Student and his Textbook by TurboTaxEvasion - Rated G

Tim Drake just wanted to get coffee and write his essay. He wasn't expecting to run into such a cute guy in the on-campus cafe. The blonde-haired green-eyed medical student burrowed into his mind and wouldn't let him think about anything else. His service dog was absolutely no help in the matter.

you make my heart beat like the rain by Anonymous - Rated T

Summer in Gotham was probably Tim’s least favorite thing. It was too hot--no matter the time. You’d think that a city known for being dark and gloomy would somehow transcend the laws of nature, but unfortunately it didn't. Tim wished it did.

Not just a technicality by shittalkerxo - Rated T

"Technically? No — No, technically. You dress up in leather and fight criminals while — don't you run a company? You — you have things to do. When do you sleep? Does your family know? That thing you did with the gun on your thigh was very hot, by the way —" Bernard rambles, far too fast for his own liking, "Holy shit, you have a warrant out for your arrest."

Love doesn't require memories by Paintball_169 - Rated G

“You’ve been hit with magic.” He says, in a typical bruce fashion, with a deep voice but also some underlying worry in his voice. “Oh,” Tim says nonchalantly, “Do you know which spell?” “Not exactly.” Bruce says, and crosses his arms and watches as Tim struggles to get up from the stretcher. He throws his father a dirty look when he hears muffled chuckles upon another failed attempt. “It’s some sort of amnesia spell,” Bruce says, “Since you clearly remember me and haven’t freaked out about being in a dark cave yet, I’m going to assume you have not completely forgotten everything. Zatanna says it was some sort of selective amnesia, but she’s not sure. We’ll just need to wait and see.” Alternatively, Tim Drake forgets Bernards because of a magic spell, and immediately decides to thirst over him. (Thirsty Tim Drake for 4k+ words.)

old friends but new feelings by ironicbird - Rated T

Suddenly, the door swung open and before Tim could even react, a hand was grabbing his arm and pulling him through the threshold. “Aaagh!” Tim exclaimed less than elegantly as he was dragged inside of Bernard’s house. “Tim! It’s good to see you man,” Bernard said, grinning as Tim recovered his footing. He released his grip on Tim’s arm and closed the door behind him. His blonde hair was cut shorter than it had been when they went to school together, although his signature round sunglasses were sitting on the top of his head. “Uh yeah, likewise,” Tim said, running a hand through his hair to settle the strands that had been disrupted by Bernard’s abrupt yank. He gingerly rubbed the place on his arm where Bernard had grabbed him. There was an inexplicable burning sensation where Bernard had touched. -------------------- Tim visits an old friend and catches up in more ways than one.

[potatoesenpaii]

Hi friend: dealers choice!! Eddie or Gareth taking care of you while sick??🤒 love you!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Eddie ;

When he received a call from your mother warning him that you would not assist your usual saturday night date...He got worried. Eddie was not unfamiliar with sickness, he did lived in poverty pretty much all his life, so he would catch every unimaginable sickness known to men when cold hit.

But seeing you with a disheveled shirt and a pair of boxers, snoring face first in your pillow he...wanted to laugh so hard. Your mother warned him your fever was close to be ER worth, so he offered to spend the rest of the weekend by your side to make sure it wouldn't happen.

He tried to shift you to lay on your back, alas his body fell forward and face first in the mattress close to your right side. He was absolutely ridicule and guess that was karma for laughing at you when he came in.

His grunt make you wake up, trying to sit up to be blocked by the body of your boyfriend's over you in his weird position.

"Baby?" You grumbled in a yawn with blurred eyes.

"Yeah?" Eddie said muffled as he sat himself back to something normal.

"What are you doing?" You ask, instantly going to bury your warm body against his.

"Caring for you" He said, hoping you wouldn't ask about how he was placed....

"With your face in my mattress?" You raised you head just to be shushed back to lay it on his chest.

"Thought it would be more comfortable" he said innocently, trying to pass his mistake for nothing.

"Uh-uh.." You snorted while pulling on his shirt.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Gareth ;

Moment he got the call? He was already by your side. Well at your door, with you opening it wide opened and being confused how he showed up under ten minutes when you lived fifteen minutes away from Hawkins.

"That was.." You started, to be cut short as his hand feeling your forehead.

"Fast, yeah i know." He closed the door with a small kick before leading you back to your bedroom.

"You know I'm not dying, right?" You whined while letting him guide you back to your bed.

"Might as well be if you're acting like a baby" He smiled while forcing your shoulders down to sit at the edge of your bed.

"You didn't have to come" You hummed, letting your body fall back on the bed.

"Are you joking? Is this a joke?" He asked while trying to find your warmest pyjama's since you didn't bothered to wear anything else but shorts and a large shirt.

"Garebear" You whispered softly, snapping him out of his anxiety and turning his head to your form with open arms waiting for him to just come cuddle.

He didn't really hesitate to let himself fall into your arms, making you make a oof "I hate when you're sick"

"I hate being sick too, love" You sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

"Is it okay if i spend the night?" He asked muffled into your shoulder.

"You don't want Eddie to drive you again?" You stiffled a laugh, guessing that's how he got to you so fast.

"...Maybe I just want to make sure you'll be okay tomorrow?...Okay fine, i don't want Eddie to drive me again" You laughed at the way he practically whined it.

"You can stay the night" You chuckled while resting your eyes for a bit.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tag list : @iitsmandii @1lostsoul0fishbowl @week-old-tiramisu

Masterlist

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

ok with the joke post today that referenced the ol' DA kink!meme cullen tiddy fic. it is abundantly clear that so much fandom history is just... lost or unknown to people who have gotten into the series after 2017. Like, you have to understand that while that fic was a bit of a meme for a week or so, it was not even close to the most outlandish thing on the board or the weirdest kink there. it just got more notice than others that spilled over to tumblr.

2015 was BEFORE the big sweeping purity movements really got a hold on people in fandom. people were allowed to be WEIRD, both as crack but also treating it seriously. it was an anonymous forum, which was also key here--there was no linking the posts back to someone's AO3 or tumblr unless they wanted to. And that meant prompts and fills both got wildly more creative than a lot of things i see now (though to be clear: there are absolutely still people writing wild & unhinged things for every fandom, and posting them happily to AO3. it's just a smaller percentage than it used to be).

the kink!meme had such insane variety but in part that was also because it was a designated positive space. writing quality varied WILDLY but the community held much closer to "don't like, don't read/comment" than AO3 does in 2025. and because people felt like they could experiment, it led not only to fun/funny situations with characters, but also some honestly moving and very beautiful writing as well.

and i do mean the porn as well as the 'serious' fics that ended up there. i think actually it was really good for fandom to have people who'd read through these prompt lists not just looking for pairings or tags they shared interest in, but ones they might not but felt like exploring anyway. being able to take a kink or a character you don't personally love and taking it apart and asking "what makes this compelling? why are people interested in this vs something else? what about this character and this setup can lead not only to something sexy but something profound?" is both good as a writing exercise (targeting an audience besides yourself) and a personal one (seeing the world through someone else's view). it was fun! and i think we should bring it back.

maybe later this weekend I'll go dig up some of the ones I remember most--both the fun/funny unhinged stuff AND the serious ones--and make a little compilation. do people who weren't on the kink!meme even know about the inquisitor x skyhold fic. or the one where quiz fucks a rift. or the one that's DA2 from Orana's perspective that was so beautiful and moving I could never replay DA2 without thinking about it again.

so anyway yeah. you should check out the archive. go dig around (click through the "part [#]" links below each game title and go through the pages however you like) and find somehing fun or beautiful or sexy.

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ together; alternate version (정윤호 ♡ j.yh)

yunho's been away for tour, only this time, when he comes home you have very different news to share.

style: bullet drabble (alternative sequel to losing time) pairing: non idol!yunho x fem!reader word count: 2.5k tags/warnings: fluff, light angst, all things pregnancy and babies, light smut with breeding kink/preg kink (yunho is v happy she's pregnant essentially lmao) notes: this was fully inspired by an anon in my inbox who asked what would have happened in my short fic together if the news reader had to share was a pregnancy and how would yunho react to that. i don't take fic requests, but i love babyfic and this just turned into a little bullet and drabble fic i thought i would share with everyone.

[masterlist]

at the end of losing time, yunho leaves for tour and it’s a long one. a full two, two and a half months abroad in europe while you’re left at home in a different time zone missing him terribly. 

you find out the truth while he’s away, only a few weeks into tour when you start getting sick. it’s not something you can just spring on him while he’s on tour, it would distract him, it would stress him out, and frankly you just don’t know what to do. what decision to make. 

you know how you feel about yunho, and you knows how he feels about you….  but this type of news always changes everything. 

so you keep it to yourself, and you do your best to make it through. 

only when yunho does return.... you’re showing. it's not a lot, just the beginning stages of a curve at three months, but it's starting to be apparent if you’re wearing fitted clothing and it's not something you would be able to keep from him if he touched you. 

so when he comes home, finally, and texts you, asking if he can send a car to bring you to the studio, you want to say yes so badly but you can’t. 

this isn't a conversation you can have in front of anyone else so you say no. and you’re honestly terrified, so you lie, just a little white lie. you tell him you can't come and that you’re not feeling well, you’ll see him another day soon.

anxiety is fully eating you up and you’re spiraling, and you don’t know it but your texts fully freaked yunho out. he's convinced that you’re going to break up with him and waited until after tour to do it, and he's sick about it.

after dance practice, he sneaks out and comes to your place.

all of a sudden hes there, he’s knocking on your door. 

you thought you had more time, you still don’t know how to tell him, what to say- but he’s there 

and -

You're a mess. Your hair is tangled from running your fingers through it again and again, and you're pretty sure this sweatshirt has a coffee stain on it, but he's here and no matter what you have to face this.

He knocks again, a soft rap on the door, "y/n, please let me in,"

"Just a second," You call back, knotting your hair back into a bun and kicking on your slippers. Your stomach rolls with nervousness, but at least, you think, it's not morning sickness.

When you finally pull open the door your hands are trembling, and Yunho's pained expression doesn't help.

"Hey," You manage.

"Hi," His eyes dart over you, a crease of concern between his brows, "can I come in?"

You move to let him in immediately, stepping back into the apartment, "Sorry, of course,"

When you shut the door tight and flip the lock, silence fills the space, but somewhere within you, you find the strength to turn around and look up at him.

He shifts from foot to foot, clearly off balance at the strange discomfort between you, and finally he sighs, "Whatever it is," he says, "I know we can work it out."

A strike of panic lances up your spine at the thought he might already know what words are sitting like lead on your tongue, but all you can manage is a soft, "What?"

"You're avoiding me," His hands flex and release, "we haven't seen each other in months, and now I'm here, and you haven't even smiled. I don't think you're sick, I think something's wrong."

"Yunho," Your voice cracks, and you can feel tears threatening your eyes already. You wanted to hold it together, but this is already too hard.

He swallows tightly and keeps talking, his own voice laced with nerves, "I know two months was a long time, and I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, I should have called more, made more time for us, but, y/n," he takes a tentative step towards you, "I love you, and I really don't want to give up on us, please, don't,"

Things slot into place at his words and you shake your head, "Who said anything about giving up on us?"

The words hang for a moment, and then he softly exhales, "You're not breaking up with me?"

"No!" Your voice squeaks as you rush to dispel that idea, "No, oh my god, not at all,"

He grins, covering his face with his broad hands and sighing, "Jesus Christ," he sighs, "I was going out of my mind,"

"No," You shake your head again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you like that."

He drops his hands and you can see the tension leave his tight shoulders, "Thank god," he smiles and steps towards you.

Panic bubbles back up inside you and you raise your hand to stop him, stepping back until your hips bump into the back of the couch, "Wait,"

His expression crumbles, "What's going on?"

You just have to say it.

"Um," Your stomach flips, "I do have some news."

"News," He repeats numbly.

"Yeah," You start to cross your arms over your chest but the realization that it would pull the fabric of the sweatshirt closer to you rockets through your brain and you drop your arms helplessly by your side. You have no idea how to tell him this.

"You can tell me anything," He says softly, reading your panic in a moment, "and you know, there's nothing we can't handle together."

"Yunho," Tears start to gather, making your eyes glassy, "I don't know how to tell you this,"

"I'm here,"

The panicked, terrified, anxious part of your brain scoffs, for now. You look away from him immediately, eyes glued to the floor. If this is how you lose him, then you guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

You take a steadying breath and jump, "I have something to tell you," you knot your fingers together, "and I didn't know how to tell you while you were away. I was afraid of distracting you or trying to figure this out while you weren't, you know, here,"

"Okay," He murmurs, taking a slow step in your direction, "I'm here,"

"A week after you left," You press your eyes closed tight, tears tracking down your cheeks, "I missed my period,"

He's silent. Your stomach churns again, but you keep going, "For a little bit I just thought it was stress, or something funny, I'm not always on schedule, but, then I started getting sick," With your eyes closed and with him so quiet, you can almost pretend you're practicing this speech, one of the many times you talked it through in the shower, lying in bed, pacing laps around your apartment. "I'm so sorry," Your voice cracks, "I'm pregnant," You can't bring yourself to open your eyes. "I know I should have told you," Tears rush forward a little faster now and you take a hitched breath, "and I know you don't want this, but you deserve to know, and I... I don't, Yunho, I don't know what to do, I don't know what I'm s-supposed to do, and," Yunho steps forwards all at once, his hands cupping your cheeks and drawing your face upwards, "Hey, hey," he soothes, voice tender, "look at me," Your eyes finally open, meeting his gaze. You expect to find him terrified, any twenty-something guy with a delicate career would be, but all you find in his eyes is soft comfort. There's no trace of the idol in him, just your lover, your best friend. "It's okay," He wipes away your tears gently, "sweetheart, breathe," "Why aren't you angry?" Tears rush faster, your breath tight. He smiles, "I'm upset you didn't think you could tell me," he dips forwards and presses a kiss to your forehead, "but y/n, I love you, this isn't... baby, this could never be bad news." "W-what?" "The timing's terrible," He admits, "and I also have no idea what we're supposed to do, but I don't care. I love you, we'll figure this out." Of all the reactions you expected from him, this hadn't even crossed your mind. When he leans back from you a little to study your tear stained face again, he smiles, and it feels like everything about your life is about to change. Slowly, you pull his hands away from your face and take a steadying breath, "Yunho," you manage, "you're an idol, and besides, we're twenty-six, we're not even married, we're not, what the hell are we going to do with a baby," He slides his hands over yours and brings them together, lifting them so he can press his lips to the back of your knuckles, "We'll do what people do, we'll make it work." You shake your head, feeling fully unmoored, but he keeps going. "I knew you were it for me on the second date," He says and the world slows to a stop, "the only thing in the world I'm terrified of is losing you, but this? y/n, I'm in love with you. Did you think I haven't imagined what our lives would be like?" "I," You can't find the right words, but you try, "I love you," His smile widens, and he moves quickly, tugging you forwards and wrapping his arms around you properly. He's much taller, and he has to lean over you, but he wraps one arm smoothly around your lower back and your hands settle on his shoulders. He pulls you up in one smooth motion, his free hand slipping under your thighs as you wrap them around his waist to hold you tight against him. He kisses your lips, tender relief in every press of his mouth on yours and he nuzzles your nose with his, "I missed you," he breathes. "I missed you too," You confess, your body finally relaxing and melting into him, weeks and weeks of tension bleeding out of your body, "so much," He hugs you close, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you bury your face into his neck, and then he freezes, "Oh my god," his hand slides over your back, landing on your waist, "you really are pregnant," You know he can feel it, the change in your body when you're pressed flush against him like this, and you nod into his neck. "H-how," His hand pushes under your sweatshirt, searching your skin, "baby, how far?" "Fourteen weeks," He sucks in a breath, dropping you gingerly back to your feet, "I can't believe you didn't tell me," For a split second you think you're finally getting the anger you anticipated, but the giddy expression on his face says otherwise.

"I've missed so much," He snakes a hand under your hoodie, and lays his palm over your slightly distended belly, "I'm... god, I can't believe this," "You're not upset?" You check softly. "No," He shakes his head, and then he tugs gently at your sweatshirt, "No, but, can you take this off, can I see?" You're nervous again, but his easy energy wraps around you like a safety blanket and you nod, swallowing back any fears and pulling off the sweatshirt, leaving you in nothing but your sweat pants, and a tight tank top. His eyes zero in on the bump immediately, and the sliver of skin between your sweats and the hemline of your top. Your hands rest over your belly, a nervous, protective instinct, "I know," He blinks hard, tearing his eyes away from your changing body and up to your face. "What?" You ask, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "You're really pregnant," He says, his voice a little rough, and then he reaches again until his hand slides over the smooth plane of your stomach, tracing the curve, "that's my baby," "Yeah," You breathe softly. 

Tears track down his face and he laughs, reaching for you again, up into his arms and nestled against him. 

From there?

He’s kissing you and he just can’t stop. 

You’re a mess from stress and tears, and hardly feel sexy, but he doesn’t care. He’s missed you, he loves you so much and this news is unexpected and terrifying but he’s so happy he doesn’t care

So holding you in his arms still, he takes you to bed

And you’re apologetic about the mess, your bed stand is covered with water bottles and anti-nausea medication and it hits him all at once how you’ve just been holding it together by a thread 

And he pulls you into the bed - “You’ve been sick, this hasn’t been easy, has it? I could have been there for you, I wish I had been there,” 

But you assure him that you’re mostly on the other side of it, you’re only sick like once in a while now not every second of every day 

And he’s like….. we are talking about that later, but right now how are you feeling? 

And you’re good…. but god, you missed him and now you’re just so relieved

So he begs you to let him take care of you now, he’s home, he can carry that weight if you’ll let him

And teary tender kissing in bed leaves his hands wandering, noticing how much is different, losing his mind over your bump and the new fullness of your breasts

And he’s hard and you’re touch starved 

And then he’s just losing it a little - kissing your body, telling you how much he loves every inch of you, how insane it makes him that he did this to you, how you made something together

And all the tenderness to dirty talk sends your brain into overdrive. 

It’s all just desperate needy, thank god we didn’t break up i can’t believe i got you pregnant sex

Worshipping oral, lots of body kissing and feral groaning from Yunho

His absolute insanity at being inside you like this - and you’re tighter, wetter, and needier than ever, and he’s just feral for it

“You’ll be the prettiest mommy, won’t you?” 

Just heaps of breeding and preg dirty talk

“God, I hope you want a lot of kids,” 

“You look so good like this, I’ll have to knock you up again,” 

“So pretty with my baby inside you,” 

And when you’re done, you fall asleep instantly. you’ve been sleeping so much more all of a sudden, and you suppose your body needs it, but it feels like you’re finally resting for the first time in weeks

When you wake, your apartment is clean, he got take out (but he’s googling best soups for morning sickness and texting Wooyoung cooking questions), and he’s making a list of everything you’ll need. He’s already making a plan of what you’re going to do. 

So even though the tour was terrifying, he’s home, he’s got you. You’re together on this, always.

[quantumfeat72]

One thing that I wonder is why (or if) the party doesn't remember the loops in Assassin Siffrin AU? He wished to give the a choice, and it's hard to do that when you aren't informed.

Do they remember bits and pieces of important stuff? or is there something else to this?

......you know i actually hadn't thought about that, but you're right. i don't think the party would remember, but it doesn't make much sense for them to be entirely out of the loop (so to speak)

i think... for one thing, they would keep their levels and level-based skills between loops, just like siffrin. everyone's level cap is now 99 instead of 75 (which is super overpowered for the mid-game, but will be vital later on...)

one thing about how wish craft works in this au is, the intent behind a wish can sorta change its meaning away from the exact words that were spoken. siffrin said "give them a choice," but he could've said "give them what they want" and it would've meant about the same thing to them, so agency (while still important) isn't as much a priority as you might think.

so the party would retain some of their memories between loops, but the specifics of what/how much would depend on their wishes

odile would remember the most out of everyone - she wished to win a coin flip, yes, but what she wanted out of that wish was information, so she'll find herself just... knowing a lot of things she learned about in previous loops, without remembering how she learned them

mirabelle's wish for all of vaugarde to be safe from the king would mean she'd learn (and remember between loops) much more powerful defensive/supportive craft than she has access to in canon

bonnie wished for their sister to be okay, but they wanted siffrin and the others to be okay, too, which i think would manifest... chaotically

as for isabeau... he still didn't make a wish before the loops started, but sometime in late act 3/early act 4, he starts returning to the favor tree in the evening after he notices how strangely siffrin's acting, and he makes the same wish every loop from then on. something like... "i want to know what's been bothering them so much. i wish i knew how to help him"

which. HO boy does the man start getting nightmares after that

(it gets much harder for siffrin to loop on purpose, now that isabeau has a sixth sense for when they're about to hurt themself and everyone's too overpowered to die in battle without very blatantly losing on purpose. so he now has to fight the king almost every loop! which is fine! it's fine! he's fine!!!)

one thing i had thought about is, siffrin doesn't have as much control over the loops in this au. no more looping to avoid scary conversations! loop notices in act 2 that they don't even loop right away after dying - it takes anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours depending on... well... they're not sure yet. maybe there's some way they could test it...?

(chrono tag for this au)

[pascalislove]

THE CALL: Han Jeong-Won x Fem!Reader~24

Summary: Your arrival would change everything, even if Jeong-Won didn't know it yet.

The day had started normally, but Y/N soon realized that something was not right. Sudden dizziness forced her to lean on the kitchen counter while she tried to prepare breakfast. Jeong-Won, who had just entered the room, frowned seeing her staggering. —"Y/N?" he asked, worried as he quickly approached her.

-I'm fine... just a little dizzy,-she responded with a weak smile, although the sweat on her forehead said otherwise. Before she could say anything else, a growing discomfort forced her to run to the bathroom. Jeong-Won followed her without hesitation, his heart racing with worry.

—"That's not 'being okay,'" he said firmly as he helped her stand after she finished vomiting.

-It must be something I ate,-Y/N tried to justify, but her voice sounded weak.

—"Let's go to the hospital. Now,"-he said, not giving her the option to argue.

The doctor quickly treated them, diagnosing that Y/N was suffering from severe indigestion accompanied by dehydration. After a brief check-up and some medicine, they were allowed to return home with the recommendation that she rest completely.

When they arrived, Jeong-Won wasted no time.

He helped her lie down on the bed with surprising gentleness, as if he was afraid of breaking it.

-You don't have to do all this, really, - Y/N protested, although her tone was weak.

-“I don't want to hear another word,”- Jeong-Won said with a hint of authority, but his eyes reflected pure affection.

He bent down to adjust the blanket for her and then went to the kitchen.

In a short time he returned with a tray: hot soup, water and the prescribed medicines.

—"First, the soup. Then the medicines," he ordered as he sat next to her on the bed.

Ji Ah smiled weakly.

—You seem like a very strict nurse.

-"I'm more efficient than a nurse," he replied, trying to keep his face serious, but a soft smile appeared on his lips.

Patiently, he helped her take small sips of the soup and made sure she drank enough water.

When he finally took the medicines, Jeong-Won sighed in relief.

—Thank you…-Y/N whispered, feeling the warmth of his concern enveloping her.

—"Just rest.You don't have to thank me for taking care of you,” he said, gently stroking her hair as she closed her eyes.

Time passed in silence, and although Y/N began to fall asleep, she could still feel Jeong-Won's firm and comforting presence next to her.

Before surrendering to sleep completely, he murmured:

—You're much sweeter than you look, Jeong-Won.

He looked at her tenderly, although his words caught in his throat. He just leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

—"Rest, Y/N. I will be here."

And so he did, staying by her side, determined not to move until he was sure she was completely okay. Because although he still didn't dare say it out loud, he knew that what he felt for her went far beyond duty or contract. It was love, even if they hadn't confessed it yet.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@anamiad00msday , @czarinera , @beebeechaos, @muchwita, @otakusimp1, @aori-aka03-blog, @preppyfella

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