#if you want to create another open thread with your idea

[myun-saidthoughts]

Reasons Why Water House Synastry Is Karmic and Intense:

In this post, I want to address some reasons why water house (4th, 8th, and 12th) synastry can be very intense, very transformational and why it creates/increases codependency.

(the basis of this thread is the fact that there is attraction and desire within the romantic connection, and the depth of feeling will run more true if you share multiple other intense synastry aspects/past life connections. Friendships/family relations that have heavy 8th/12th house synastry overlays manifest *very* differently)

Each water house has one common factor, and that's with these type of synastry overlays; you will feel seen or accepted. In some way, some form, the severity of it depends (as usual), but

if you struggle with:

4TH House:

Showing your true character to others without the fear of being judged.

Sharing your inner thoughts to others with ease and safeness.

The fact that you never felt/had a safe home, so now you long for that feeling (of being at ease/comfortable with someones presence).

Feeling ease and comfortability within your environment or within yourself, instead you experienced that those feelings came at a cost.

Feeling secure when you're meeting others/being open to others.

Stating your inner thoughts or feelings outwardly and confidently.

Trusting others.

8TH House: If you struggle with:

Self acceptance.

Self worth.

Self love.

Self confidence.

Accepting/receiving love.

Having low respect for yourself (meaning how others treat you may be hurtful but because of lack of validation within, you allow or accept that behavior).

Having a pattern where the way others treat you either gives or takes away validation your inner wounds need.

Deeply craving emotional closeness yet fearing it at the same time.

Allowing yourself to desire love.

The fact you're emotionally unavailable; so you're unsure with how to deal with romance, and yet a part of you still deeply desires a partner.

These also may resonate if you have 8H Placements, Pluto aspecting inner planets/Scorpio placements.

12TH House: If you struggle with:

Emotionally availability/allowing someone to see you, all of you.

Receiving tangible, stable, harmonious, love.

Having a habit to/find it easier to fix or save someone in hopes of changing their self destructive habits or mental health issues. This type of tendency creates an avoidance within yourself especially if you don't focus on your own needs or problems. (it's easier to focus on someone else's pain rather than your own)

Feeling safe with the idea of not being needed, instead you choose to be the giver or other woman since it subconsciously keeps you at a distance of being openly loved (which is something you subconsciously fear)

Holding the deep desire to feel seen past the physical 3D.

Allowing yourself to receive the type of love you're able to give/shower another.

Wanting to fix or heal someone's mental health wounds or problems, you find it safer to be their savior rather than have a true give and take partnership.

(These also may resonate if you have 12H, Neptune aspecting inner planets/Pisces placements)

These are a few examples of how intense these synastry overlays may manifest if you are struggling with the above statements. I briefly mentioned a few indicators, needless to say they are more and each synastry chart or even natal chart will always paint the picture better of how deep these relationships can manifest.

then 4th, 8th, and 12th house synastry will cause internal shift within, whether you want it to or not.

4th House: With the 4th house and when someone walks into your life and they ignite your IC, the part of your character that you readily hide becomes unlocked. If you personally have struggled with being comfortable in your skin, or have struggled with feeling secure with who you are as you are, then this person to you will feel like a comfort blanket. Their presence will shift you into a mood where all you feel is safe, present, and in the moment. With them, you will feel complete in showcasing your inner world and your inner thoughts. Their presence will become this key that you didn't even knew you need. It'll feel easy with them, and there is no hesitation, confusion or worry. You can't feel worry, and it's not because they insistently tell you not to feel anxious, you just naturally won't. You guys will likely share the same humor or communication style, and if there is a Venus conjunct IC then the IC person will feel this romantic pull with showcasing their personality outwardly that they won't be able to shake towards the Venus person. Overall these feelings are especially true if you struggle with letting someone in, if it takes some time for you to allow someone else to see your personality or thoughts, then they will feel like a cure for allowing to let that side of you out and when you're next to them; you'll feel like you're finally home.

Example: you walk into a bar and they make eye contact with you, you instantly smile, they instantly smile, and the conversation that ignites feels as if you just spoke to them. It could be weeks, months even since you last saw them but the comfortability between the two of you oozes out in a way where it feels like they just came back home to you. (especially if you share heavy 3H synastry overlays as well or if their mercury softly aspects your inner planets, vice versa)

The reason why this type of connection can be hard to let go of is because their presence might cause or create a codependent need in you for them in order to feel "safe." All their presence is doing is igniting the secure feeling in you that you wish you had, you finally can look into another's eyes and feel that type of comfortability you've always been scared enough to unlock or accept. Your private thoughts and characteristics feel safe next to them, and because of that, they create this security within you won't know how to let go of. So, all they are doing is unleashing your wish of being your truest self without fearing the consequences of being seen for who you are.

In some cases, 4th house synastry may not run as intense, and some say it can be 'mundane' or boring, especially if you don't struggle with the listed wounds I stated, or if you don't share other intense or cute attraction synastry aspects with them; but in essence this individual will feel like a grounding force.

The bond you can form with them is tangible, it's secure, and it feels real. So, letting them go will feel as though you're letting go the one desire of ever revealing your private inner self with ease, especially if this is a part of you that you've been too afraid to openly show or even accept.

Songs That Relate

Look After You - The Fray

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Control - Zoe Wees

Hey Stranger - Billie Flynn

8th House: With the 8th house, these type of connections are more intense, and naturally so. With this type of synastry, and if you struggle with self acceptance especially with self love or self worth, then letting go of this connection will feel near to impossible. It will feel like life or death if they walk away from you, and it will feel like a part of you dies every time they don't give you the reassurance or acknowledgment your soul wishes for. Their eyes alone, tell you it's time to let that wall down and without effort your wall crumbles. You know that if they leave, a part of you will leave with them but if your wound of wishing to be accepted runs so deep within, you can't help but take that risk. You're aware that the unavoidable low following their absence will cut deep, yet instead of walking away, you prepare yourself for its inevitable arrival.

You allow that pain to embody you because that pain hurts less than not feeling those moments of acceptance that they are able to give you, especially if it's what you've always reluctantly wished for.

With their presence that void of wanting emotional closeness that you've always longed for will feel like it has vanished, their eyes alleviate the long-ignored half-empty feeling, and so the part of you that wishes to been seen, the part of you that wishes to feel accepted, the part of you that wants to be vulnerable won't know how to let go.

You could run into them and it could be weeks, months even and if you still struggle with loving yourself in the way you wish they would, their presence will create this upheaval that will shake within you, this synastry holds cycles, loops, ups and down to the point of where if you don't hate them, a part of you will still want them.

This synastry creates a dynamic where this soul that entered your life is only igniting the parts of you that you, yourself don't accept, love or acknowledge. Their presence becomes this band-aid that somehow soothes the deepest parts of you that have been abandoned, and their presence soothes the part of you that you yourself believe you can't heal. This fear then creates a scarcity mindset that can cause you to become someone you're not, and even if you logically know what is objectively best to do in situations to not create more intensity within the connection; there's just a part of you that can't care.

The reason why this type of connection can be hard to let go of is because their presence might cause or create a codependent need in you to have them in order to feel "seen." Their presence gives you a sense of acceptance where you allow yourself to accept love in. If you struggle with emotional abandonment, or fear love, then their presence will feel like a "skip the line" pass with inner healing the parts of you that feel broken.

The reason why 8th house synastry is discussed so promptly and openly is because these feelings that persist (when dealing with inner wounds) become such catalysts of growth and ego deaths; but that is only because this connection allows in the hope for love you've been wishing for all your life. You want to be held, you want to be cared for and loved in a way that you've never received, and this person presences grants that sole wish. They bring you that one solace feeling that you've never felt and because of that, letting them go is letting go the one key that makes you feel worthy, seen, and accepted.

Their presence creates this codependent need within because they become this one "thing" that you think you need in order to fulfill that self love wound you keep repressing. You'll start to rely on them for emotional clarity or serenity, you'll start to "need them" in order to feel good, and you'll expect them to make you feel "better" emotionally and if they fail to meet those expectations, all you'd be faced with is the unwavering feeling of the lack of self love or worth you're too afraid to self develop.

The love you're so readily able to give them, is what your soul is asking you to give yourself.

*Those who have prominent natal Scorpio or 8th house placements as well as having Pluto aspecting harshly their inner planets or ascendant will feel these trials and errors more*

Songs That Relate:

Locksmith/You Don't - Sadie Jean

Addicted - Kelly Clarkson

Im Yours/Heartbeat - Isabel LaRose

Just a Little Bit of Your Heart - Ariana Grand

Heavenly - Cigarettes After Sex

Is There Somewhere - Halsey

12th house:

This post focuses exclusively on a 12th house relationship between two kind and evolved individuals. While there are other darker themes associated with 12th house synastry — such as deception, substance abuse, hidden affairs (like being the other woman or mistress), lies about one partner’s true nature, or fear that one partner is withholding information or their true self — I won’t be discussing those here. I might explore those themes in a future post, as they are important to note, but for now, my main focus will not include those themes.

“Though I barely know you, it feels as if I do. Your eyes and body language seem to speak your thoughts, even the ones I can’t fully grasp. There’s no visible thread connecting us, yet this feeling remains.” — Planet Person

With the 12th house, this synastry unlocks so many different routes and experiences. Many factors influence how each individual can feel towards this ethereal connection. One way this synastry can manifest is through the tendency for the 12th house to cloud, confuse, and bring hesitancy into the connection. In some cases, Person A (or the person who has heavy Neptune/Pisces/12th house placements) will feel as though they can read Person B in such a deep and subconscious way; this type of knowing may even be hidden from Person B to the extent that they are unaware of their own subconscious emotional needs, thoughts or feelings, and yet (especially if there's care or desire on their end) Person A can read Person B like a book. 12th house synastry can be so thought provoking because of the absolute depth and surreal feeling it can add into the connection. The planet person (or the person who has heavy Neptune/Pisces/12th house placements) will feel this innate drive to be with the house person (or the other partner who isn't as spiritual adept). It's as if one partner, driven by an innate need to give endlessly, is profusely tossing their sole bucket of water into the vast ocean of the other partner's needs. The giver (or the person who has heavy Neptune/Pisces/12th house placements) is so focused on giving that they overlook the importance of receiving, while the receiver remains oblivious.

If Person B remains unaware of the deep spiritual bond between them that can manifest, they may perceive Person A's actions as invasive or unnecessary. Person A, recognizing wounds in Person B that Person B may not be aware of can evoke a sense of fear in Person B, this has to deal with the issue of them not allowing or accepting a form of love that they believe (Person B) doesn't serve them.

If this scenario resonates with you, then this individual is provoking a wound within yourself that deals with the acceptance of receiving authentic love. This innate need to only give highlights your own fear of receiving real reciprocal, stable, tangible love.

In this scenario where one party wants to save, fix, heal or give, highlights that fearful nature within you where you allow to stay in shallow waters. You subconsciously know that you have such passionate love to give, but that thought of giving to someone who in turn might be willing to give back evokes fear and uncertainty within you.

This subconscious block holds more comfortability within you since it allows you to never accept a love where your soul will fully be fulfilled. It's self sabotaging and self written, you naturally already know how the story will end between you two, and so you subconsciously will find a character who perfectly embodies the story you yourself say you try to run from.

On the other hand this synastry (when desired and when it's dealing with highly evolved individuals) can unlock such deep soulfulness between both partners. Between the two parties, it'll feel as if they have found someone that can finally understand them better than anyone ever has, it'll feel dreamy and mystical. It'll feel as if their body language writes stories that you could only read.

In a pure sense, one partner that desires the other very deeply and whole heartedly wants to make sure that their partner is seen, and understood. And this comes from a very sincere place and if the other receiving partner allows that kind of love in while being okay with giving that same love back, that is when this type of connection can be ideal.

Now in this scenario, this type of codependent nature deals with over emphasizing redemption with no boundaries. If there is solid exchangeable love, a part of you may believe there is always more good than bad within them or within the relationship, and so their wrongdoings or unacceptable behavior to you or to others somehow receives justification or more understanding than he or she should receive. (especially if you also share 8th house synastry with them). As well as it's important to understand that if there is this innate understanding given by one partner that's always present when there shouldn't be, that's when the relationship can become overwhelming, or draining. Just because you know, understand or empathize with the other partner's actions or patterns doesn't make their actions okay.

This type of dynamic receives interchanging parts, with the 12th house things can lack a solid foundation and have a lack crystal clear communication, some days you both won't deal with struggling dynamics, then one day Partner 1 acts out, to which Partner 2 cuirasses and holds, then a few weeks later Partner 2 acts out and Partner 1 comes to their aid.

Truly the amount of stories, experiences, how Person 1 will feel vs Person 2 is genuinely so intercomplicated and nuanced. Each story lies within the two parties involved, with this house they are just so many different routes and avenues it can uphold, so this particular post may not cover every ounce of information on 12th house synastry. If you are curious to learn more only about this synastry I have a long updated post titled "Understanding 12th House Synastry" and it's far more in-depth (click the text).

In essence, how the other partner receives this type of boundless understanding calls for them to be a very kind and open individual. It's important to understand and recognize red flags or self undoing patterns. Staying aware of the actual real situation instead of sitting in bed thinking of the "What if's" are key. Their posts may not be about you, that song on their story can be just a song, remember that. Especially if the individual lacks self awareness or care on their end.

Finally, I don't believe water house synastry holds malicious energy or serves as a dictatorship with stating how the relationship will fail. Not every synastry overlay is set for such intense energy or uncomfortable experiences, each planet in a natal chart holds different themes. What truly matters at the end of the day are the two souls involved within the connection. Desire, care, love, and acceptance are all foundational keys for any relationship to last even those with or without water house synastry. Accepting yourself in the purest form when it comes each water house theme (4,8,12) is key.

Your natal chart when it comes to synastry serves as a mirror within yourself, everything you are feeling for someone else is already sitting within you.

Don't forget that.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

BABY GIRL

Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary - Jackson likes to keep you doped up for both of your safety.

Warnings - Non-con, dub-con, drugging, manipulation, degrading, p in v, edging.

Word count - 1.9k+

Notes - Guess who wanted to work on one of her WIP's but decided to watch Red Eye and just had to write another one about my favourite boy.

You laid on the bed, completely naked against his body, he only wore his boxers, your left leg draped over his hips, his hand slowly caressing your back as your face was pressed up against his lean bare chest. 

The audio of the television was muffled, your sight blurred as you slowly breathed in and out. The sheets were hardly covering your flesh, but you were too dazed to pay attention to it. The sensation of his large fingers caressing your tender skin was enough to earn gentle moans from your soft lips. His cold blue eyes watched you like a hawk. Almost skeptical that you would commence a ploy against him, despite your doped state. 

Jackson Rippner was fascinated by you. The moment he saw you, he knew that you would be his. It was unfortunate with the circumstances you met under. Star crossed lovers in his opinion, a bit of a spiced uniqueness to your relationship.  

You were assigned to investigate him for terrorism. Many times you were warned about your high levels of ambition, your eagerness put you in danger. But you were always too stubborn to listen to your superiors. 

“Jackson” you murmured against his chest, almost drooling. He sighed lightly, his hand rubbing circles around your lower back. 

“Yes baby?” He asked softly, there was silence for a brief moment. Jackson waited patiently for you to respond as you raised your heavy head. 

“Are you going to keep me drugged up forever” you slowly questioned, your eyes ached to stay open, your thoughts blurred with sweet nothings. 

There was this blank, emotionless stare from him. As he was questioning himself, he really did wonder what he’d do with you in the long run. The thought of him keeping you mindless for the rest of your days made the blood rush to his cock. Only being mentally capable to muse the thought of him touching, fucking, loving you. 

But then he also wanted to take you out for an expensive dinner, vacate at a ski resort, hold you from behind as you cook him a loving homemade meal. Jackson never considered himself a romantic, but different people create a better you. The idea of having a life as one together made his heart flutter. 

“No baby girl” he answered eventually. 

“When will you stop” you breathed out, a small smile on your lips, a thread of hope. There was a small grin on his lips as his hands gently rubbed your hips. 

“When I know you’ll be a good girl for me” Jackson mocked, pulling you completely over his hips to saddle him. 

“I am a good girl” you countered, your head felt heavy yet your thoughts light. 

“Because you’re drugged up” he laughed softly, his large hand caressing your cheek as your face fell limp on him. 

“Touché” you snorted and he patted your cheek a couple of times. Sluggestly, you lifted your head back up, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Please sir, I promise to be good” you assured, but your small smile was all so devilish. 

That title always got the blood flowing to his cock. You could already feel his size growing underneath you. 

“Really? You cross your heart, hope to die, type of promise?” Jackson razzed, flashing you a toothy grin as his fingers slowly moved closer to your core.

“Yes sir” you promised, batting your eyes towards him. 

“Oh baby girl, how can I be so sure?” He toyed, titling his head to you. 

The scratches on his face were faint. Whenever he sobered you up, you were quick to get in every shot you could at him. However, you were foolish not to carefully plan out your scheme to escape, or as you preferred to do, attempting to kill him. 

“Because I love you cock Jacky” you moaned, his fingers toying with your clit. 

Within a blink, Jackson had flipped you onto your back. Holding your throat down against the mattress and huffing, flaring his teeth at you. “What did I tell you?” He snarled, his thumb rubbing over your chin.  

“You hate being called Jacky” you choked out, but you were still grinning at him. 

“And I thought you wanted to be a good girl” he pouted to you. 

“I do” you almost sang, coughing at the restriction to your throat. 

“Fix your mistake then” Jackson ordered calmly. 

“Because I love your cock, sir” you choked out, emphasizing the correction. With the release of your throat, Jackson sighed. 

“That’s a good whore” Jacksont grinned at you, flexing his hips forward. You pouted to him. “My good whore” he corrected himself, dropping his lips onto your neck.

It was pointless, trying to deny the sensation Jackson always brought over your body. It was too much effort to try to hide the pleasure he always bathed you in. 

This is where you belonged, underneath him, figuratively and literally. 

In small circular motions, his tongue swished over your heated skin, his hands ran slowly up and down your torso, his fingers playfully scratching at your nerves, his stubble tickled you. Your arms gradually enveloped around his back, your fingernails scraping at his skin lightly. 

“I’ll always take care of you baby girl. You know that right?” Jackson asked as he pushed his boxers down enough to free his throbbing length. 

“Yes, Jackson” you breathed out, laying your head back carelessly. 

“Could have gotten you killed, interfering with my business, like a little fucking brat. But I saved you…” Jackson grinned as he lined himself up with your gushing entrance.  

“No Jackson” you shook your head, moaning out softly as he gently pushed himself inside of you. 

“Who are you lying to?” Jackson snorted as he rested himself completely inside of our canal.

“This isn’t living” you countered, your hands rising up to the back of his neck, your legs raising up to your hips in unison.

Jackson couldn’t help but to laugh as his hips snapped back and forward. His lower lip was stuck in between his teeth as he searched for the perfect pace and speed.

“For someone who is constantly high, you sure as hell are conscious” he remarked, his hands holding onto your sides.

“I was always smarter than you” you murmured, biting onto your lower lip. 

Jackson laughed gently as his teeth nipped at your earlobe. 

“Yet look at where you are now. Be my good girl, I want to spoil you rotten. Don’t you want those things?” He toyed, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bud. 

“Yes Jackson” you answered emotionlessly. 

Most of the time it was easier to give him what he wanted, your complete submission. You were always so weak, tired, feeling out of body. The effect his touch had on your body was the biggest punishment. If you weren’t always so high, you’d be heavily humiliated with how badly you craved him. The control he had over your body was frightening, he was your puppeteer, always pulling on your strings despite how desperately you tried to cut yourself free. 

“I want to give you the world” he professed as he found the perfect rhythm to fuck you to. 

“I want to kill you” you whined out, face twitching as the high stimulation took over full steam ahead.

“No you don’t, you could never do such a thing” he mumbled, his hands pinning yours above your head. 

“But I’ve tried” you groaned as he hit your cervix. 

“And that’s okay” he assured you, kissing you in a sloppy manner as if to comfort your distressed thoughts. “You’re learning to be my good girl, yeah?” Jackson asked, teasing your bundle of nerves as he kept your pleasure swimming by the edge. 

“Yes Jackson” you shamefully admitted, your eyes swelled with tears as his thrusts became more painful. 

His mouth fell open into a large smirk at the sight of you crying. It was one of his favorite looks of yours. Over mere seconds, your tears formed into a stream as you sobbed underneath him. The clarity of your predicament washed over you once more. 

“Yeah, you’re so fucking pathetic. Acting like a tough, stuck up bitch. But you’re nothing but a little whore for cock, my cock to be precise” he grunted, feeling your walls clench around his throbbing size.

The sounds of your troubled moans always felt like a melody to him. The mixture between your logical and sensual thoughts left you in shame. Jackson kissed you deeply, your mouth was wide open but you refused to kiss him back. The taste of your tears made him growl like a wolf.

“Fuck, your director would be so disappointed in you. Everyone thinks you’re fucking dead. So get the stupid thoughts of breaking free out of that little mind of yours” he sneered, his free hand holding your chin in place as you tried to turn your head to the side. 

“Stop talking Jackson” you whimpered, desperately trying to focus on the pleasure and not his taunting words. 

“No one is looking for you. I have no tails, nobody cares about me. Only you did, you felt it too from the beginning, just like I did, our connection” he grinned as his balls slapped against your entrance. 

“Shut up Jackson” you whined as you felt your climax build. 

But Jackson loved watching you cry. It was amusing to watch your emotional strength crash, it was pleasing to look at your humiliation. A wonderful reminder of how reliable you are on him. Jackson loved to pull your strings around, to keep you on your hands and knees as he yanked you across the dirt. 

“Bet you wanted me to steal you away from your useless life. Now your biggest stress is wondering how many times you’ll get to squeeze my cock each day” he moaned out, kissing your tears away. 

“Shut the fuck up Jackson!” You screamed out as loud as you could, your weak body thrashed under him but it quickly left you exhausted. 

“Someone’s getting sober” Jackson pointed out with a grin, holding you down effortlessly. “Might just keep you tied up instead, I like your screams” he winked to you. 

“Please stop, please, please” you begged repetitively as he continued to fuck you senselessly. 

“Then tell me what I want to hear” he sighed, his hand combing back his damp hair from the sweat that trailed down his forehead.

“N-no” you shook your head, you could feel him twitch rapidly inside of you.  

You knew exactly what he wanted you to say. It was the thing you hated doing most. He always wanted you to say it when you were so close to finishing. 

“Please” he toyed, playfully begging you as he kept your built orgasm dangling from the edge.  

“Come on baby girl, make me feel good” he grunted as he smacked your rear. 

There was another weak shake of your head so Jackson held his body still inside of you. Pathetically, just like he always described you as, you whined out at the pressure built in your core. All you wanted to do right now was come undone, feel something good in this torture. But Jackson stared at you sternly, menacingly. His hands pressed down on your hips as you tried to rock yourself around him. 

“I-I love you” you admitted, your cheeks beet red. 

Instead of fucking you senselessly like you assumed he would. Jackson pulled himself out and jerked himself over you. Quickly, his white ropes of semen sprayed over your sweaty stomach. You panted, looking at the mess he made on you as your distressed expression made him chuckle silently. 

“I love you too” he replied blankly. 

As you caught your weak breath, Jackson laid his body on top of yours, his fingers touched your sensitive core, gently teasing you. You moaned out, ready to do anything to free yourself of your painful climax. 

“But so, drugged or tied?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow to you.

[sweetsaladpainterranch]

Challenges of Raising a 6 Month Old Demon

Rebel Without Pants

...

It was 9 am in your suite at the Hazbin Hotel and you were currently watching your husband and daughter fling themselves and each other out of the small shadow pockets they continued to open in a weird game of cat and mouse wack-a-mole. You let loose a loud sigh of exasperation as Alastor once again caught the small fawn by her tiny hoof and begin threading the pair of cotton pants unto it, only for her to use her own spectral tendrils to yank his tail. He sounded a surprised bleat, while his child wiggled out of his grasp and tossed the clothing onto the ground with a giggle.

"Now see here, young lady!", the tall deer flung a pointed claw in the direction of the grinning diapered demon, "You WILL wear clothes! Or so help me, I will take away your-"

Your husband quickly looked around for something to make his threat credible, but smiled darkly when he eyed a certain container. "Or I will take away your yogurt covered eyes!", he continued to smirk triumphantly at Evangeline's low growl. She had been gifted those treats from her beloved Auntie Rosie from Cannibal Town and they were her favorite snack.

You knew this threat would not go over well with your daughter and could only watch as she tucked her ears back, hissed in static, and narrowed her eyes before darting into another shadow pit. The entire room was, then, painted in darkness as a wary Alastor stood firm in the middle. Waiting for the attack.

His tendrils stood flailing at the ready with different articles of clothing, when, suddenly, he was smacked on the back of his leg by a small, furry ragamuffin. He immediately went to grab his fleeing child before the feeling of weightlessness seized him. The shadows disappeared into the hole your fawn had created, and lured her father into, before you noticed Alastor falling past the tower windows and unto a confused Angel Dust outside. He must've not seen her trap hole with his own shadows covering the entirety of the room, you reasoned and looked down at the laughing spider holding your furious husband like a princess.

Turning around, Evangeline was under the bed trying to open the child proof clasp on her snack container. With a shriek of frustration when she was unable to overpower the magic lock, she threw it down at your feet in a silent request. Unfortunately for her, you were now running late for your meeting with Charlie so you fixed her with a hard stare. At that moment, your mate had made it back up to the tower window and began to coil his muscles and shake his growing antlers. (Many of which sported impaled baby shirts, socks, and pants)

Here we go again. You thought looking at your watch as the small fawn once again reared up at her father from the ground.

"Evangeline Hartfelt!", you spoke with intensity and at once commanded the attention in the room. You almost never raised your voice so the two deer immediately focused on your next words. "I have had enough of this foolishness." You walked forward to pick up the still locked, dented yogurt box and held it out to her. The small fawn's eyes widened with curiosity.

"If you be a good girl and dress properly, you may have your snack.", you fingered the latch open with a precise slowness, "if not, Mommy and Daddy will eat them all!"

The little deer hopped up quickly as you let out a forced evil laugh and brought an eye up to your lips. She allowed Alastor to properly dress her (he actually enjoyed picking out her outfits) with only a few whines when he groomed her fur covered head with his tongue. However, she nuzzled back into his cheek when he softly purred a bit and gently scratched at her tiny antlers.

You smiled and threw 2 of the yogurt eyes in their direction, which they happily caught with their teeth and followed you out the door to FINALLY begin the day.

...

Hey everyone 🙂 been a minute but I had this idea from the other day and wanted to write it really quick (inspired by my own tiny rebel who absolutely refuses to dress in anything but her diaper 😅)

I'm nearly done with the 4th chapter of The Rival and hope to have it out asap

-SSPR

[moonydustx]

I was asked on Ao3 to create a cute and different scenario with Law. I don't think this is even close to being the final version, but I thought it was a little cute and decided to bring it here. Cute, Law tries one of the reader's hobbies and fails, probably poorly crocheted, poorly written and poorly revised

Law x F!Reader requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated

--

All of Law's methodism seemed impossible at that moment, at least it seemed to make the task he intended to do even more difficult. He liked you, it was as clear as any sea you two had ever crossed, but how could it be so difficult to put into words or demonstrate?

Luckily, his way of demonstrating whatever his feelings were and no matter how much they remained hidden for a long time was by demonstrating services, in this case, he was looking to demonstrate that he also cared about your tastes.

The two of you had already spent nights counting coins - and being careful not to mix the repeated ones with the new ones - reading and rereading the stories. Now his objective is to introduce you to something you liked, nothing more fair, right?

However, it seemed impossible. How could it be so difficult to connect those two dots? In fact, the two stitches were huge threads and crochet needles, at least in Law's head they were much bigger than the ones he used in surgery.

The task was being doubly difficult for two specific reasons: one, he had no idea about crochet, even with the magazine he had picked up and all the clothes you had already presented to your colleagues and two; he was using your material and at some point, no matter how much he tried to keep busy, you would suspect he was missing.

After sitting for hours, Law found himself doing something he would never have thought of: giving up. He dropped the needles that were now becoming a big knot on his bed and went out to try to breathe something that wasn't so stressful. He just didn't expect to find the person "responsible" for all this.

"Hey!" His voice came out suddenly, surprising you as you rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. "Everything is fine?"

"Someone hid my things!" your furious voice woke him up, apparently he was about to be discovered and you didn't seem to like the idea of ​​his disappearance. "Can't you help me?"

"So, I…"

"I don't know, maybe teleport my things here? I'm a little stressed and that helps me so much to get my head straight." you interrupted him, letting the flood of words come out, barely realizing that you had interrupted him. "I don't think so, do you? Sorry to bother you with this."

"I know where it is." he snorted, his slumped shoulders indicating that he was giving up. "But, I have a good explanation, I think."

"What do you mean a good explanation?"

He just indicated the way with his head and without even blinking, you decided to follow him. After all, what would your captain have related to crochet and needles?

The first thing you found strange was that he immediately took you towards his room, this being a place rarely visited - and authorized - by the crew of the Polar Tang. Law opened the door and allowed you to go through first. The second thing that surprised you was the tangle of lines that were on his bed. The way Law looked at you indicated everything you needed to know, guilty.

"May I ask why?" the light laugh that escaped your lips eased the tension under Law. "I mean, I never expected that."

"I just wanted to do something nice, after all you always help me with the coins, and the books and…" he limited himself to responding, watching you sit on his bed and start to undo the knots. "I tried, but it ended up becoming a big knot."

"Not a big knot…" you moved the needles and soon the tangled threads became a small stitched thread. "You just left it inverted, you managed to make a little fabric chain."

"All this work for a little chain?"

"Were you doing this for me?" you answered his question with another, leaving him stagnant. It only took a few seconds for Law to just nod. "It looks amazing, captain."

"Was it amazing?" his eyes looked like a puppy's, trying to recognize the praise in your words

"For a beginner, of course! I can even use it like this." you tied the thread sewn onto your wrist, turning it into a bracelet. "If you want, I can teach you how to do it."

"I think I'll let the idea go for a bit." Law's body sweated as he saw you approach, even with a safe distance between your bodies. "But if you want a quiet place to do that, you can come here whenever you need. I mean… I can read and you can stay here, I-I don't know."

"Thank you captain." you smiled and in a burst of courage - mixed with fear of his reaction, you stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I loved the gift and I also loved the proposal, see you later!"

Law watched you leave with his heart almost coming out of his mouth. He still preferred to keep the surgical needle and sutures, however, that little bracelet on your arm symbolized more than any other hobby you two had tried together.

[whoistartaglia]

Stawwwwp your stuff is so cute!!💖💖💖

If requests are open, may I ask for playing with Wanderer, Tighnari, and Kaeya's hair?

Thank you! And I hope you have a great rest of your day/night ✨️

very thankful for this request💪 i’ve been thinking about this idea for a while now

playing with his hair

wanderer

wanderer usually likes it when it’s him playing with your hair, but tonight you wanted to switch it up a bit. when you’re cuddling together and your hands start to thread into his hair, wanderer point blank turns to you and asks in an almost offended tone, “what are you doing?”

“playing with your hair,” you respond, gently tugging on another lock. you pause and look into his eyes. “is that okay?”

when wanderer doesn’t respond, you let his hair slip through your fingers.

“i’ll stop,” you whisper.

“no, it’s…” wanderer searches for the right word.

you wait patiently in silence. wanderer thinks you look like a confused puppy with your head tilted to the side. your eyes certainly remind him of one, always filled with adoration. for him. sometimes, he still can’t believe it.

“nice,” he finishes at last, sounding like it’s the first time he’s ever said the word. wanderer settles back down so you don’t have to see his face—though, that doesn’t hide the redness in his ears. he clears his throat. “you can keep going.”

his voice is ridiculously soft, but when you let out a teasing, “are you sure?” it turns back to rought concrete.

“yes,” tight, unyielding. you can picture him rolling his eyes. “i’m sure.”

you laugh and once again start running your fingers through his hair. he eventually falls asleep, and if you manage fight through your own dropping eyelids, you’ll hear him murmur your name, said like a scared prayer to a benevolent god.

tighnari

oh, when you start playing with tighnari’s hair, the man turns to puddy in your hand. nevermind the teasing attitude or sarcastic indifference he gives you during the day. at night, when you’re massaging his head with small, light circles, tighnari’s edges smooth out. not that they were never too rigid to begin with—at least, not with you—but the tension in his face will evaporate and he’ll have this content, peaceful smile on his face that lingers even into sleep.

and if you start playing his ears? first, consider yourself lucky that you’re allowed such a privilege; second, he might literally melt like ice under the desert sun; third, should you call him out on such softness, he will absolutely deny it.

“blushing?” he muses. he blinks open his eyes, and you feel bad you woke him from sleep. your guilt vanishes when he states: “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“oh?” you bring the back of your hand to his cheek. “i don’t know. seems pretty warm to me…”

he brushes off your hand with a small protest in the back of his throat.

“it’s warm because it’s hot here. that’s all.”

“oh, yes. i’m freezing.”

“[name],” tighnari sighs.

“tighnari,” you respond. he looks up at you with a pout—a pout, for archon’s sake—and you can’t help but laugh. “okay, okay. i’ll let it go.”

tighnari relaxes back down. you start running a light finger over the back of his ears, and tighnari sighs again, content. quietly, you lean down and whisper, barely able to keep the amusement from your voice: “but you totally are blushing.”

kaeya

kaeya loves it when you braid his hair. he just thinks your fingers are so gentle when you’re tugging and pulling at his hair in forming the braid. honestly, he’ll let you do anything you want to his hair, aside from cutting it all off. (even then, he might at least consider it, though he’d never let you go through with it).

you’ll be braiding his hair one night, same routine as ever, when you realize something. you tug on a strand and it doesn’t come free; neither does the adjcent strand next to it.

your fingers still, and your heart drops to the bottom of the ocean. in trying a new type of braid, you’ve created a knot in kaeya’s hair.

“well?” kaeya asks some time after you stopped. “did you finish?”

he goes to run a hand over the braid and you stop him, quickly lacing it with yours. now kaeya does turn, an eyebrow raised, a pointed glance at your entwined hands.

“not that this isn’t lovely,” he starts, squeezing your hand lightly, “but i do feel like there’s another motive at play here.”

“not at all,” you say, averting your gaze.

kaeya makes to touch his hair with his other hand, to which you also grab and hold in your own.

“okay, [name], sweetling, now i’m a concerned. please tell me you didn’t rip off a chunk of my hair.”

“you would’ve felt it,” you grumble. but then you sigh and shyly tell him, “…but i might have made a knot.”

kaeya studies your face, and after a second, he surprises you by placing a peck on your lips.

“what was that for?” you ask, embarassed.

“because you look so worried,” kaeya responds with a sigh. he worries for you sometimes, he really does. “don’t worry. it can’t be that bad. though,” he glanced at your hands again, still entwined, “i’d find some comfort in finding out for myself.”

you reluctantly release one hand. kaeya touches the knot and reassures you once again it’s really nothing. you both work to get it out before you’re back to braiding it again. though, it’s kind of difficult now.

kaeya still won’t let your other hand go.

[dear-satan]

league of legends

Leon S. Kennedy x fem!Reader

summary: You found a „cool” computer game for Leon and now you kneel under the table sucking his cock when he talks to his friends in the game

warning: +18 only, oral (male receiving), league of legends player

Each of us needed something to kill time, to occupy our own thoughts. Especially Leon. After his missions he was quite often absent. His thoughts still revolved around all those events he preferred not to tell you about, so that you wouldn't worry too much. Therefore, as a good girl, you tried to find something for him. Some kind of activity that would allow him to switch off his mind at least for a while and somehow relax him.... And we're not talking about sex, because you practically couldn't get out of your bedroom, and you had to function somehow and do your daily chores eventually. Therefore, you created - in your opinion - a long list of activities that could interest Leon.... But as it turned out, it wasn't all that easy.

At the very beginning you tried to convince him to read.... As it turned out, your beloved scolded this idea with the argument that this activity reminded him too much of the paperwork he did after completing each mission.

Failure number one.

Another idea was to unleash the artist in him. You bought a set of crayons and paints and arranged them in front of him along with a blank sheet of paper. At first Leon looked at you with raised eyebrows but took a crayon in pink and started scribbling something. You already thought you had hit the nail on the head, but when you saw the pink stick it immediately all your joy evaporated.... In addition, he signed this stick with your name, sending you only a sly smile....

Failure number two.

And then it only got worse....

Morning physical activity? He has workouts at work, after all.

Baking or cooking? At his first and last attempt, you had to buy a new mixer and a set of plates.

Handwork? He gave up when he couldn't thread the needle.

Crossword puzzles? And what is he, an old grandfather with dementia?

The last thing on your list was computer games....

You searched the Internet for interesting titles and so it worked out that you decided on a game called League of Legends. It looked really nice, had a lot of characters and was quite popular. Installing it took you a few seconds while sitting Leon in front of the computer and persuading him to create an account.... Well, it took a little longer. But it worked. He played the first game, then the second and third. You watched with a smile as he controlled some archer and killed little red creatures.... However, you didn't anticipate one thing.

The game became a literal time-waster, making you feel a bit neglected. Leon was really spending a lot of time in front of the computer which slowly started to bother you.... And your poor pussy was crying because of the lack of attention. Whenever you would come up to him and ask when he would finish having a craving for a bit of intimacy he would reply "five more minutes, I promise" and then he would come to you when you were sleeping deliciously. This was also the case this time.

"Baby please," you moaned as sweetly as you could, kissing his cheek. Your hands wandered under his navy blue shirt wanting to get his mind working at least a little. "Can't you pause it?" you tightened your thighs. You had been walking around with a wet pussy since morning and had given many signals for him to fuck you, but nothing worked.

"I can't doll. Soon, I'll finish and come to you, okay?" he only threw you a quick glance and a slight smile as his fingers moved across the glowing keyboard. Not after you.

"No, not okay." you puffed out your cheeks and crossed your arms over your chest "Since when is a stupid game more important than me?"

Leon only opened his mouth wanting to say something which ultimately only ended with a shake of his head. You heard some voices in his headphones at which you just rolled your eyes, feeling completely helpless. But then your gaze fell on the table and an idea was born in your head.

You crouched down, pretending to find something interesting on the floor, and neatly crawled under the table, sitting perfectly between its spread legs. You then thanked God that Leon liked to walk around the house in just a T-shirt and boxers. You placed your hand on his massive thigh, scratching it lightly and then kissed it from the inside. Leon seemed to ignore your actions until your lips kissed his half-hard cock through his dark boxers. His gaze immediately went to your face with a questioning look, at which you smiled innocently.

"Something wrong baby?" you asked dumbly kissing his boxers again. You heard him draw in air quickly through his nose and his toes flexed. "Come on, keep playing pretty boy."

Leon sighed heavily and you, completely ignoring the fact that his colleagues were further along on the links, got down to business. You slowly placed kisses on his cock, to which he twitched under the influence of this pleasure suppressed by the material. Your nails dug into his skin from time to time which caused additional sensations. However, the real challenge came when you slid your cool hand under his boxers. You knew very well that Leon was not one of the quietest people in bed, especially when you were giving him a blowjob. That's why you squeezed his penis with satisfaction and started pumping slowly, teaching him a lesson for ignoring you and your needs.

When pumping him didn't have the desired effect, you tilted back his boxers releasing his ruddy cock. Pre-cum dripped from the red head at which you fluttered your eyelashes and slowly licked off the transparent substance purring quietly.

"Fuck..." Leon's muffled moan brought an even bigger smile to your lips and his slightly panicked explanation in front of his colleagues in the headphones motivated you to continue.

You placed a kiss on its glowing tip and finally put its entire length in your mouth. You sucked your cheeks while moving your head at a laborious pace, running your hands up and down his thighs. You heard his breathing speed up considerably and he moved nervously. His toes were flexed. You took it out of your mouth to run your tongue over its entire length. Your gaze fell on his balls, which you also decided to lavish attention on. You sucked first one, then the other while still attending to his cock with your hand. Leon's sighs were like honey to your ears, especially as the mouse clicks became more and more erratic.

"I'm sorry b-but-" he snapped, biting his lip almost to the point of blood when you put him deep in your mouth again until he felt the walls of your throat "I'm having trouble with the i-internet..."

His cock twitched in your mouth, heralding that Leon was close to release. You sped up your movements, pumping him at his base. With your other hand, you gently squeezed his testicles. Leon, unable to contain himself anymore, quickly turned off the game, the laptop and pressed your head against his pelvis spilling into your mouth. You began to choke on his cum until your eyes were streaked with tears and your cheeks were burning from the heat.

"Y-you are terribly.. Impatient." he wheezed finally looking into your broken eyes as you swallowed his semen. "Such a good girl..."

"I told you to stop this silly game," you rose to place a passionate kiss on his soft lips and in the process give him a taste of yourself. Of course he returned the kiss, but it didn't last very long. In one deft motion, he pulled you out from under the table and easily threw you over his shoulder, giving you a slap on the buttock. "Leon!" you squealed with laughter.

"Come on doll, now let's play a real game." he snorted, directing his steps toward the bedroom.

[ken-dom]

Did You Get It?

Holland March x gn!reader

Summary: You and Holland find yourselves home at the same time for a brief moment during the day. Despite a fresh injury, and Healy waiting outside, you can’t keep your hands off one another.

Author’s notes: this one is for @hollandstrophyhusband who inspired this naughty little story with the spark of a brilliant idea that quickly spiralled!

Warnings/content: nsfw, hand job, subby Holland, praise, cum play kinda?, suit kink, kind of public since Healy can probably hear if he listens hard enough, injury mention, light angst, mention of edging, smoking, biting

You watched from your relaxed position on the sofa as Holland burst through the front door and leapt into the kitchen, ransacking the cupboards one by one. He left every cabinet door open after he’d rifled through the contents behind them, tupperware and pans falling everywhere in a cacophony only he could create, urgently moving to the next and the next until he reached the kitchen drawers and began his assault on them, too.

‘Need some help, handsome?’ you called, calmly stepping over to the chaos.

Startled, Holland shot up from his hunched position over the cutlery drawer, bashed his head directly into the open cabinet door above, and, dizzy, spun haphazardly around to bump directly into you.

‘It’s just me!’ you said softly, holding your hands up, and he dropped back against the counter.

‘Oh, Holland… let me take a look at that,’ you soothed, reaching up to thread your fingers into his tousled hair and feel for a bump.

‘I’m looking for the- for the- I forgot… fuck, do you think it was the bang on the head? Do you think it knocked out my goddamn memory?’

‘Well, let’s see. Do you know who I am?’

‘Yeah, a hot piece of ass, that’s who you are,’ he smirked, trying to dodge your caring hands to kiss you on the lips, missing spectacularly and scowling like a sulking child.

‘I’m sure whatever you were looking for, it’ll come back to you.’ you chuckled, ignoring his advances and moving his face around to check his pupils were dilating in the light.

Holland rubbed at the sore patch on his head again and for a moment you worried he would think back to the bump on his head that lost him his sense of smell. Thinking about that too much usually ended in him getting horribly drunk for days on end and sobbing into your shoulder every night until he worked through it.

Time to distract him.

‘You’re so sexy in this suit, Holland. Blue is definitely your colour.’

It might have been a distraction technique, but it was also a complete truth. You could never resist him in this outfit. And he knew that.

You moved back, caressing his cheek with one lingering palm and trying to keep your thoughts on track as you wondered whether he would still be wearing this when you saw him tonight. You hoped so.

‘You seem good, I think you were just shocked.’

Holland took a deep breath to steady himself, but he recovered quickly, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. ‘Didn’t expect you to be home.’

‘Took a late lunch and decided to come make something nice. You want some?’ you offered with a vague gesture to the sofa where you’d left your plateful on the coffee table.

‘I want some of this,’ he drawled, grabbing a handful of your ass to pull your body flush to his.

You gasped, falling against him and finding that his cock was already straining against your belly in those tight pants of his.

‘Naughty,’ you smirked. Leaning up to kiss him, but you heard a cough outside and paused. ‘Is that Healy?’ you sighed, dropping back disappointedly.

‘Yeah, he’s waiting outside,’ Holland shrugged, and leant back in to you as though it made no difference to him that his partner was feet away, probably counting down the minutes right outside.

‘Oh Holl- we can’t- not with him- Holland surely you’re not going to-’ each protest amounted to nothing as Holland stooped to kiss and suck sloppily at your neck.

Now who was getting distracted.

‘Alright hold up, horndog,’ you finally got out, sliding both hands down Holland’s chest to push him back against the counter. ‘Think with your brain and not with your dick for one second, baby, ok? Healy’s a detective. And your partner. He’s gonna come bounding in here with his gun when he gets suspicious about how long you’re taking, and he’s gonna see… well, whatever it is you’re wanting to do with me.’

Holland whined in disappointment, knowing you were right. But god, he wanted you. Needed you.

‘But…’ you whispered, pressing yourself to him and snaking your arms around his lithe waist, ‘I can give you a little something to keep you going… until later?’

Holland’s eyes lit up and he straightened, readying himself for whatever you had in mind. ‘Y-yes… please-’

‘We have to be quick, alright? No holding off.’

Holland nodded, biting his lips together in anticipation, eyes wide with wonder at your genius.

You wrapped your fingers around his tie and yanked him down, kissing with madly crushing lips as your hand slid down the brown silk and found the waistband of his pants instead.

Popping his fly open with ease, you swiftly pushed his shirt away and slid your palm inside his underwear, dragging up his thick length painfully slowly.

Holland shuddered, rolling his hips as you began to pump with a loose fist, watching with delight as he gradually lost composure.

‘Jesus- fuck-’ he muttered breathily, head dropping into the crook of your neck. ‘Mmh, f-fuck-’

‘Listen, Holland, baby, when you get home tonight, I’m gonna make your favourite dinner, take you to bed and fuck you senseless. Does that sound alright?’

He nodded against you, whimpering, feeling tears threatening his eyes. He’d found he cried during or after an orgasm quite regularly these days, but it felt pretty good and you didn’t seem to mind, so he didn’t fight it anymore.

His throbbing cock twitched in your tightening grip as your thumb swiped copious amounts of precum from the tip and the first tear slid down his cheek, wetting your shoulder.

His legs shook as he rocked into your fist and you knew he was trying to draw out his pleasure, not wanting to end this feeling of safety and warmth and bliss that overpowered everything else. Overpowered his pain. And usually you’d let him. You could edge him for hours until he was a whiny, begging mess, and he was just as beautiful each time.

You wished you could do that for him now, but the sound of Healy’s feet shuffling on the gravel outside came as a sharp reminder, and you sped up the twisting of your wrist, the snapping of his hips unconsciously matching your pace.

His knuckles had turned white where he gripped the counter behind him for balance, but they flew to your shoulders now instead, and you could feel his desperation through his fingertips.

‘You’re gonna have to stay quiet when you cum, ok, baby? Or Healy’ll hear you.’

He nodded, whining desperately and trembling, knowing how loud he could be but not feeling in control enough to modify his volume. He was putty in your hands and if you couldn’t keep him quiet then he’d simply have to suffer the consequences.

He tried, though. He really did. His head flung back, his eyes shut tight and he bit down on his bottom lip so hard you thought he might draw blood.

Then his jaw dropped and a strangled moan slipped out that he just couldn’t stop. You quickly slapped your free hand over his mouth, muffling the end of his high pitched cry.

He hummed against your palm, moaning a little more freely now his sounds were muted.

The vibrations of his low tone and the warmth of his wet lips against your palm made your core clench.

‘That’s it, baby,’ you cooed, working him just the way you knew he liked, alternating between soft and slow then fast and rough — chaotic, just like him— until he was ready to explode. ‘Let go for me…’

He bit down on your fingers then, his steadily rolling hips stuttering as his cock twitched through rope after rope of creamy seed pumping from the tip, spilling into his underwear and over your hand.

He fell back, limp and panting while you grabbed the nearest tea towel to wipe your hand clean, returning to lean up and kiss him tenderly on the lips.

‘Will that keep you going, baby?’

He whimpered an incoherent response, nodding slowly.

‘You were so good for me… just you wait until tonight,’ you smiled, smoothing his hair back. ‘Here, let me help fix you up.’

Holland focussed on catching his breath as you tucked in his shirt — and his cock — and carefully pulled up the zipper on his fly. You could feel his eyes burning into you as you neatened him up, and the heat seemed to pool in your stomach. If only you had a little more time right now.

While you were fastening the clip on his waistband, you looked up to see Holland had surreptitiously lit himself a cigarette and was blowing out a long stream of thick smoke on a relaxed exhale.

He held his cigarette out to you when you looked up, and you shook your head.

‘You enjoy it, baby, you deserve it. Now, go back to Healy before he gets antsy.’

Holland groaned, pawing at you. ‘But Healy doesn’t make me feel the way you do…’

‘Tonight, Holland,’ you promised again, ‘Go!’

‘Alright, alright. Hey, how do I look?’ He spun around as he walked away and you stole a glimpse of his perfect ass in those tight pants.

‘Completely fucked out, but somehow tidier than when you arrived.’

He smirked and nodded, swaggering out of the door with an obnoxious amount of confidence.

****

‘Did you get it?’ Healy’s gruff voice echoed down the drive.

Holland froze, staring at Healy like a rabbit in the headlights.

‘Jesus, March, did you get it?’ he repeated, perturbed.

‘Uhm,’ Holland shifted uncomfortably, feeling his own seed, fresh and slick, coating his cock inside his underwear. He hoped you’d give him a chance to shower before you undressed him tonight. ‘Y-yeah I-’

‘Forgot what you went in for, didn’t you?’

Holland let out a dramatic sigh of relief, running his fingers through his hair and turning on the spot with a gentle, ‘Ha!’

‘What, don’t tell me you got drunk in the-’ Healy checked his watch, ‘fifteen minutes you were in there?’

‘No, no- I-’

‘Forget it. Come on,’ he gestured for Holland to follow him to the car, and like an obedient puppy, he did, while Healy considered him. ‘Why are you walking like you just dismounted a horse? What the fuck were you doing in there?’

‘Nothing, I was just… y’know, looking for the… thing-’

Just before Healy had a chance to unlock his car, you thrust open the front door, waving a piece of paper containing the information you assumed Holland must have been looking for. It had been right on top of the fruit bowl all along. ‘Hey, baby, I found it!’

Holland’s eyes turned wide and Healy’s eyebrows pulled into grim suspicion as he glanced from Holland to you, and back to Holland again.

‘You’re disgusting, you know that?’

‘What?’ Holland shrugged, like it was nothing.

‘I was right outside! Can’t keep it in your goddamn pants for a minute, can you, March? Jesus. Go get the goddamn paper. And no hanky panky, come straight back this time! Jesus Christ!’

Holland jogged over to you, wincing at the slick dripping onto his thigh now, and placing a tender, lingering kiss on your cheek as he slid the paper out from between your fingers. ‘Thank you, baby,’ he whispered with a wink, ‘for everything.’

‘See you tonight, handsome,’ you winked back, watching him jog back down the drive to Healy who was already firing up the engine. ‘And you can keep that suit on.’

[melit0n]

EUCLID ANALYSIS.

Told you guys it was coming, didn't I? I apologise that this has taken a bit longer than expected, my mental health hit me like a bullet train, but I do hope it's sufficient.

Part one -> You're already here!

Part two -> Line by line analysis part 1

Part three -> Line by line analysis part 2

Part four -> Musical/intrumental notes

Part five -> The Night in Sleep Token

Part six -> Conclusion

Please note this is a general analysis. Although I do go into theories, both my own and others, this is just general thoughts. Also note when I speak of Vessel, I mean Vessel as a character, not the person, unless I specifically state so.

Tagline: @rilllvri @a-s-levynn @fivewholeminutes @euclidsvessel @tonguetyd @moonchild-in-blue @kkarmatic @branches-in-a-flood

+ Some people were worried about spam liking/reblogging the last time I did one of these big analysis posts, and I want to say please don't worry about that! I get happy when I see the same users pop up liking and reblogging my work, because it means you're interested in this enough to go through the whole thing. Feel completely free to add your own thoughts, correct any errors I've made etc. As per usual, my DMs are completely open to anybody wanting to discuss ST <3

Let's start off with the basics. ‘Euclid’ is the anglicised version of the Greek name Eukleídes (Εὐκλείδης), mainly known via the ancient Greek mathematician Euclid of Alexandria, who is seen as the ‘father of geometry’, and most famous for his work on symmetry. Its general definition is something or someone who is renowned and or glorious (A) and the lesser known definition is something that is a copy of the same (B) (taken from Euclid’s ideas on symmetry), which we’ll come back to in a bit.

However, there is another Euclid in history that we’ll be referencing; Euclid of Megara. This Euclid, similar to our mathematician, was an ancient Greek Socratic (having been a pupil of Socrates) philosopher. I’ll be taking part of a text out of his Wikipedia article since his ideas have been explained thoroughly there.

(we'll be coming back to him soon)

First off, this is an incredibly interesting choice of name for a song. Outside of someone's maths and philosophy class, this name doesn't exist to most, so the fact it's been chosen at all is intriguing.

Vessel has shown time and time again he enjoys sometimes elaborate references in his art, an example being chemistry and biology in TPWBYT (most notable would probably be ‘Telomeres’), so, I think it would be easy to say that, whether it be a reference to Euclid the Mathematician or Euclid the philosopher, that said reference is understood and intended by Vessel.

So, let's start with our mathematician, shall we?

What I find interesting about Euclid of Alexandria is that his life and existence outside of his work on geometry is almost completely unknown. There's almost nothing known of him, as a person, other than where he spent half of his career (Alexandria; Egypt, hence his title), where he may have studied (Platonic academy) and a general idea of when he lived (around 300BC). What is known about this insanely famous man who created the foundations of symmetry is incredibly barebones. People take Euclid at face value for his work, just like Vessel (both as an artist, and a character).

Further, we, as listeners, don't have much of an understanding of who Vessel is other than being a mouthpiece of a deity known as Sleep, someone once human now grasping at the threads of humanity and someone sharing some of his struggles in life (both with Sleep and unknown people). Like Euclid, he is barebones, we take him at face value; a vessel. He is both a mouthpiece for Sleep, a mouthpiece for his own emotions (obviously) and a mouthpiece for us. His experiences transcend being just his, due to his anonymity, therefore allowing us to connect and express our own experiences. It's music for the sake of music; expression.

Now, having talked through Euclid as a person, it's time to talk about Euclid and his symmetry. Symmetry in shapes is 'reflections, rotations, translations, and combinations of these basic operations. Under an isometric transformation, a geometric object is said to be symmetric if, after transformation, the object is indistinguishable from the object before the transformation- a copy of the same’. So, of course, this means shapes like squares, rectangles, parallelograms and circles. Circles are a representation of infinity, wholeness, unity and loops. What does Euclid do? Loop itself (starts and ends with B major, which also happens to be the same chord that TNDNBTG starts with), and loops the three albums together, musically and lyrically.

Now, onto Euclid of Megara.

Euclid was born in Megara, Athens and was a follower of Socrates (sneaking into Athens to hear him speak, and he was also present during his death). He is most known for his philosophy that good is the knowledge of simply being and that the opposite of good does not exist, aka evil. The Good is described to be a perfect, eternal, and changeless Form, existing outside space and time. A form of Heaven without a God.

This idea could be linked lore-wise with Sleep Token; Sleep could, in a way, be The Good literally. Bliss. Further, with the idea that there is no actual opposite of good, then how can anything be bad? How can Sleep, as a deity, have bad intentions if there is no actual evil?

So far, with these two notable figures in mind, we can perceive Euclid as one of two ways (and there are more ways to come). Euclid can be seen as quite literally being a form of symmetry; a parallel that Vessel lays his life on because it brings all of the produced albums, all of his stories, together. Or, we can think of Euclid as Vessel. This brings me to @euclidsvessel's post on their theory on Euclid; what if Euclid was Vessel’s name before he became a vessel?

The theory that Euclid could be Vessel’s old name is not only extremely insightful, but very plausible as well. They explained their points very well in their original post, and I don't want to repeat what they’ve already said, so I do implore you to go read that! It's not detrimental to needing to understand this post, but I highly recommend it. Despite this, I am here to both support their argument and bring my own comparison. Take a look at the cover art for Euclid:

Let me repeat the lesser-known definition of Euclid; a copy of the same. A clone. A replacement. Held in the right hand is the decapitated head of Vessel's old (2nd gen.) mask. Specifically, the one that covers his mouth; the version that relinquishes the most amount of humanity. The album art is a representation of change portrayed in a symbolically gory way. Beheading, depending on the era you’re working from, symbolises both vengeance as well as a form of purification. By cutting off the head, you remove any ‘unholy’ thoughts. It's also among one of the most horrific and humiliating ways of killing someone (since it was typically done publicly, and sometimes the heads were placed on spikes of battlements as a warning).

Furthermore, there's a theory that's popped up a couple of times, lore-wise, that Vessel is not the first person to be turned into a vessel of Sleep, and he certainly won't be the last. So, considering the literal album art illustrates a replacement of Vessel, I’d say that theory is pretty much confirmed. In conclusion, the album art can either be interpreted as how Vessel will eventually be discarded and replaced by another vessel, or how Vessel himself will change, for better or for worse; clawing out of his own skin to become “someone new”.

So, to compare the idea of Euclid being Vessel’s old name, and to create the third perception of what or rather, who, Euclid is, what if Euclid will be the eventual replacement for Vessel?

[joyful-enchantress]

Love at First Bite (18+) | Adam (OLLA) x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: You’ve been dating Adam for a while and this Valentine’s Day, you take a new step in your relationship. Written as part of the 14 Days of Valentines Collection curated by @muddyorbsblr ❤️ This is my first time writing for Adam. I hope you enjoy!

Genre/Warnings: Smut (18+), fluff too, angst (if you squint), established relationship, language, vampires, biting, mentions of blood, dom/sub dynamics, restraints

Word Count: 3.5k

“It is too dangerous, darling. The answer is still no.”

At his steadfast declination, you turned your lips downward into your most convincing pout, your doe eyes adding to the air of innocence and longing. The demure look on your face was surely a stark contrast to your lascivious body, perched as it was, straddling Adam's lap and clad in nothing save for a pair of black lace panties and one of his tee shirts. “I only want it because I’m so sure you’d never hurt me, Adam.”

Your immortal lover brought his cool fingertips up from where they had been resting on your hip to brush softly against the column of your throat, his eyes meeting yours and swimming with a heady cocktail of solemnity, regret, and... was that desire? “We’re not talking about a hickey, love. I’d pierce your skin, drink your blood. By definition it would hurt you.”

You gave an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean, Adam. I just know that I’d be safe with you. I trust you with my life.” An almost feline smirk stretched across your crimson lips. “And I can’t stop thinking about how hot it would be. Please, Adam. I want this.”

As you finished your plea, you began to kiss and suck on his neck, working your way from the corner of his chiseled jaw down to the notch between his collarbones, pulling a gravelly moan from his lips in response to your attention. You were fully aware that you were testing his resolve, fraying the edge of it, thread by thread. Hopefully, one day soon, it would finally snap, because you knew that deep down he, too, found the idea of drinking from you incredibly erotic.

He has actually admitted as much to you in the past. The two of you have discussed it before, almost too many times to count over the fourteen months that you've been seeing each other. Understandably, prior to dating Adam, your knowledge of vampires was limited. You'd thought that if he were to ever sink his fangs into you, that there were two options: dying or becoming a vampire yourself. It surprised you to learn that he could bite you, feed from you, without killing you and without turning you. From that moment on, the thought of him doing just that took up occupancy in a dark corner of your mind and never left.

“Darling…” Adam’s husky growl pulled you back to the present moment. “…look at me.”

You reluctantly pulled your lips away from his collarbone and met his gaze with your own.

He seemed to hesitate for just the briefest second, as if he was contemplating a change of heart, before he continued, “I can’t bring myself to do it, to mar this perfect skin…” as he said it, he brushed the pads of his fingers against your throat once again, touching you so gently, as if you were as delicate as a butterfly’s wing. “...you’re my lover, my partner. I love you, I cherish you, I respect you. You’re not a food source.”

You pondered his words for a moment before responding, absentmindedly tracing swirling patterns along the alabaster planes of his bare chest with your lithe fingertips.

“Adam, do we not have sex?”

He looked stunned at your question and scoffed as though it was the most ridiculous question he’d ever been asked. “Of course we do.”

“And is sex not a primal, almost animalistic desire?”

“I suppose so, but —”

You cut him off before he could continue. “So if you have no problem using my body to sate one primal hunger, why are you so morally opposed to using it to sate another?”

Adam's mouth opened as if he wanted to say something in response before it drew shut once more as he considered your words. Seizing the opportunity, you continued, leaning forward to rasp seductively in his ear, "We both already love it when I submit to you in the bedroom. Think of this as a natural extension of that submission... a way for me to yield even more control and power to you, Sir." You felt him shudder as the final word rolled off your tongue.

When you pulled yourself back to look at him once more, you noticed that Adam seemed flustered by your words; he broke eye contact and looked around like he was searching the room for a reply that kept evading him. And if vampires could blush, you thought to yourself, his neck and cheeks would be turning scarlet.

"Adam..." you whispered as you took his face between both of your hands and gently turned his head to look at you. There was a sadness in his eyes when they met yours again. He looked sorry. Guilty, even. "...we don't have to keep discussing this for now. It's okay. I can tell it is upsetting you, and that's not what I want. That's not what I ever want." As you breathed out your loving reassurance, you kissed him softly, willing all of your adoration to cascade over him in a soothing wave of warmth and devotion.

When you finally broke the kiss, Adam spoke again at last, his voice careful and deliberate, as if what he was saying might scare you away.

"Y/N, my love, I would be lying if I told you that your suggestion doesn't sound... divine. My reluctance to grant your request does not stem from a lack of desire, I assure you. In fact, it is just the opposite. I fear that I desire it too strongly -- that I'd enjoy it too much. That I'd be unable to control myself... unable to bring myself to stop."

You held your breath, completely captivated by his words; this was a new revelation -- he was being more honest with you than he'd ever been. If you were being truthful, it did scare you a little. But it didn't make the idea of Adam drinking from you any less arousing.

His eyes swam with unshed tears as he continued.

"I am ashamed, darling. Ashamed of how much I want it." He blinked and one of those tears broke free, toppling over the edge of his cheekbone and leaving a glistening trail down the side of his face. "And I know you trust me with your life, Y/N, but the trouble is, I don't trust myself..."

There was a pregnant pause -- Adam took a deep breath and he slowly swallowed, as if he was pushing down his own fear. What happened next sent a shiver down your spine and a jolt of arousal to your heated core.

His pupils dilated and his sapphire eyes darkened with lust before he continued, "...at least not yet."

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

More than six weeks had passed since that conversation with Adam; it was the last time the delicate subject of him biting you came up. Neither of you mentioned it again after Adam bared his soul to you the way he did and finally admitted the real reason he was so hesitant to grant your salacious wish.

Your thoughts drifted back to that night; after your conversation and Adam's confession, the two of you shared a night of passion that has been burned in your memory ever since. The ferocity, the possessiveness, the raw eroticism. The way he claimed you so roughly, so thoroughly, that you would never again doubt who you belonged to.

Something turned Adam completely feral that night -- the marks of ownership he left on your body lasted nearly a week and the echo of him chanting "Mine..." over and over again like a mantra rang in your ears long after the night ended.

A wave of hot, wet arousal pooled between your thighs at the vivid memory.

A ping from your phone delivered you from your reverie and brought your thoughts back to the present. It was a text from Adam.

Happy Valentine's Day, my love. I cannot wait to see you tonight. I have a surprise for you so don't be late. xx

The loving yet commanding tone of his text message, combined with the filthy images that had just been flashing through your mind, fanned the flames of your already sweltering desire. You hoped that whatever Adam had in store for you tonight would lead to the bedroom.

Glancing at the clock, you realized that you had just over an hour to get ready if you wanted to arrive on time. You'd better get to work.

After showering and ensuring you were properly groomed from head to toe, you slipped on Adam's favorite black mesh lingerie set. The sheer fabric left almost nothing to the imagination, and the strappy accents gave a subtle but sexy nod to the harnesses and cuffs he loved to use on you. You hoped he would use them tonight.

You chose a classic little black dress and leather jacket to wear over the lingerie. The look was complete with a touch of makeup, including blood red lips, and your black Doc Martens. With one last once-over in the mirror, you gave yourself a nod of approval and walked out the door.

When you pulled up to Adam's and approached the front door, you could hear him playing music inside, the vibrations from his amplifier rattling the old house. You pressed your palm lightly against the door, feeling as the wooden panels seemed to thrum with electricity under your touch. There was no need to ring the doorbell -- he'd barely be able to hear it, bathed as he was in his own symphony of sound. Plus, you knew he'd be able to pick up your scent and would come to greet you and welcome you inside.

Not even 30 seconds later, the music came to a stop and you could hear the faint creaking of the floorboards as Adam gracefully descended the staircase and strode towards the front door.

As he swung open the door, he stood before you, clad in faded black jeans and his favorite robe, tied sluttishly loose around his waist so that his bare chest was exposed to your roaming eyes. His own iridescent orbs peered out from behind curtains of jet-black hair and met yours with a simmering intensity that took your breath away. At your reaction, a self-satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth; no doubt he could hear your quickening heartbeat.

"Hello, darling. Right on time, I see. Good girl." He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest and nuzzling the top of your head. His praise turned you to a puddle for him and dammit, he knew it. Not that you were complaining.

"Hi Adam," you murmured softly, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day, indeed," he hummed, "Come inside, love, so we can begin celebrating."

You followed him inside, kicking off your shoes and hanging up your jacket in the foyer, and before you knew it, you found yourself in a familiar position -- straddling his lap as he sat on the couch, lips joined together in a passionate kiss. His cool digits danced up the length of your thighs, hiking up the skirt of your dress as they went. The chill of the air meeting your freshly exposed skin caused you to shiver, and Adam took advantage of your momentary distraction to break the kiss and move his attention to your neck, licking and sucking on your pulse point until you moaned for him.

"Adam..." you panted, "I thought you said you had a surprise for me?"

You could feel him smile against your neck, and he chuckled softly before he replied, "Don't worry, my love, you'll find out soon enough."

Your skirt was bunched around your waist at this point, and Adam brought one hand between your thighs and stroked a finger against your mesh-covered heat.

"Mmm... so wet for me already," he growled darkly, "And I see you wore my favorite. Such a good girl. My good girl."

When you let out a high-pitched whimper in response to his touch and his words, he recaptured your mouth with his, pushing his tongue past your teeth and stroking it languidly against your own. You followed his lead and returned the favor, pushing your tongue against his lips to ask for entry, which he easily granted.

As his teeth parted for you, however, you felt a strange movement within his mouth -- something new... something foreign. It felt like his teeth were...growing? In your confusion, you stilled your tongue against his teeth and realized that he was slowly, but surely, protracting his fangs.

He had never done this before. He'd never even let you see his fangs. Your heart pounded against your ribcage like a mallet on a drum and you pulled away so you could look him in the eyes. Instead of the familiar crystalline blue orbs, you were met with a warm reddish-gold. Equally as beautiful, but more menacing, more... hungry.

Did this mean...?

"Are you frightened, darling?" Adam eyed you warily, concern etched all over his devastatingly handsome face. Concern and...lust.

"Yes," you breathed out in a shaky response. "Yes... and no."

"Good..." he breathed in sharply through his nose and you swear you saw the color of his eyes intensify even more as he inhaled your scent. "I'd be worried if you weren't scared at all. A healthy dose of fear is completely normal in this situation and will likely even heighten the experience for you."

You gasped as his words sunk in. Was he finally ready?

“Adam,” you started. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

“I’m ready, Y/N. If this is something that you still want, I’m ready to give it to you.” He brought his hand up to stroke your face, thumb brushing gently across your cheekbone. “I want to drink from you. To taste you in a way I haven’t before.”

“Oh, please, Adam. Yes, I still want this,” you rasped. “I trust you completely.”

At your confirmation, he pressed his lips to yours once more, and stood from the couch, hands cupping your ass as he carried you towards the bedroom with purpose. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gave yourself into the kiss, your whole body humming with anticipation of what was about to happen.

Adam laid you down gently onto the bed and hovered over you, resting his weight on his sinewy forearms. He broke the kiss to give you a chance to catch your breath and when your eyes met his, you saw something else lurking beneath the reddish-gold blanket of hunger and lust. Reverence. He was in awe that you were willing to let him do this, to submit to him and give yourself to him in this way.

“Darling, before we go any further, I need you to know that I love you,” he proclaimed, his voice husky with desire. “I love you so much, and I promise to keep you safe.”

“I know, Adam, I love you too.”

“I’m going to time my bite so that it coincides with your release. That way, the surge of endorphins will help with the pain.”

“I’m not worried about the pain, Adam, I —“

He cut you off before you could finish. “I am. At least for this first time. There’s nothing I can do to stop it completely but if I can lessen the pain then I’m going to.”

There was no room for argument, so you simply nodded your understanding.

“There’s one other thing, my love…” Adam began, “…if it is alright with you, I think it might be better if I restrain you.”

“Restrain me?” A shudder ran through you, your natural sense of self-preservation kicking in. Despite your earlier hope that he would use cuffs and harnesses on you tonight, this didn’t feel like the time.

“I know what it sounds like, but it is actually to ensure your safety even more. I trust myself, but I do think that any sort of struggle might trigger my more… predatory instincts. I’m sure I can control them, but why test that theory? Again, at least for this first time.”

Your heart fluttered with excitement at the fact that not once, but twice now, he alluded to there being a next time.

“Okay then. Yeah, let’s take every precaution,” you breathed out with a heavy sigh. The weight of the situation was taking its toll on your energy level.

Adam worked quickly to remove your dress and all of his own clothing before he secured your wrists to the corners of the headboard with silken rope. You were quite literally spread out for him. Like a meal.

He began kissing you then, beginning with your lips and moving shortly to your neck, worshipping you like a goddess as he licked and sucked his way from your chin to your shoulder, pulling breathy moans from you as he went. Without interrupting his oral ministrations, he swiftly removed your panties with one hand. You lifted your hips and legs to help him pull them down and completely off your body.

That same hand of his came back up to cup your sex. He groaned as he dipped his fingers between your glistening folds, gathering up your slick wetness before moving his attention to your aching clit.

“Oh, Adam…” you whimpered desperately. “I want you. I need you. Please.”

“Shhh, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

As he said the words, he lined himself up at your entrance and slowly thrust his rigid cock into your waiting pussy.

“Fuck —“ he gasped, “so fucking tight. I’ll never tire of claiming your perfect little cunt.”

You clenched around him, pulling a deep, guttural groan from his chest.

As he began rutting his hips, grinding against you and into you, you could tell that you were close. That familiar coil was tightening at the base of your abdomen and it wouldn’t take long at this rate for it to snap.

“Adam, I’m — ahh — I’m close!” You managed to piece together the words between pants.

“Are you ready?” He asked you soberly, one final check that he had your consent.

“Yes, Adam. Please drink from me.”

And that was all the confirmation he needed.

He reached between your bodies and moved his dexterous fingers against your clit once more, pulling you towards the precipice of pleasure and hurdling you over the edge.

At the same time that he felt you come, squeezing his cock like a vice, he brought his lips to the spot where your shoulder met your neck and bit down. Hard. Sinking his fangs into your supple flesh, savoring the blood that pooled on his tongue.

He found his release not long after, coating your walls in his seed.

Amidst the throes of your orgasm, you could feel the sharp pain when he bit you. The pain was worse than you thought it would be and for a moment you were frightened. Had you made a mistake?

But then, as quickly as it came, the pain faded away; it melted into ecstasy as he drank from you. You reveled in his moans of pleasure at the taste of you on his tongue.

After a few swallows, he pulled away from your neck and peered down at you; you watched as his fangs retracted and his eyes began to return to their usual shade of blue. A few drops of your blood still clung to his lips and you were somewhat surprised to realize that you found the sight to be one of the most erotic you’d ever seen.

Once he came back to himself, he scrambled to untie your wrists and wrapped your body, limp and spent as it was, in his arms.

“My sweet, darling girl…” he lovingly whispered. “You were so good for me. So brave. So selfless. And you taste even more divine than I had imagined. Thank you for trusting me. And thank you for being patient and waiting for me to be ready, even though you’ve wanted to try this for so long.”

“I love you, Adam,” were the only words you were able to form at the moment.

As you lay there, coming back down from your high and recovering your depleted energy, Adam tended to you. He massaged your wrists and shoulders to soothe any ache left behind from the restraints, and he lifted you and carried you into the en-suite bathroom where he lowered you into the tub that had already begun to fill with warm water.

The wound on your neck was not very deep. He cleaned it thoroughly and bandaged it up for you.

“Thank you Adam,” you finally managed to say.

He chuckled, “You’re welcome, darling. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, but I had no doubt that I would enjoy it. Did you like it as much as you thought you would?”

You basked for a moment in how sated you felt physically and how closely, intimately, connected to him you felt emotionally.

Then you looked up at him and with a cheeky smile you replied, “It was love at first bite.”

Tagging some lovely people who might be interested. No pressure though if not! @lokisgoodgirl @give-me-a-moose @fictive-sl0th @thomase1 @coldnique @maple-seed @tallseaweed @cheekyscamp @simplyholl @sarahscribbles @loopsisloops @mochie85 @cake-writes @holymultiplefandomsbatman @springdandelixn @gigglingtigger @vbecker10 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @peachyjinx

[braveclementine]

Chapter 31

Warnings: 18+readersonly, Sergeant kink, Captain kink, uniform sex, pet names, roleplay, mxm smut

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

"What are you looking for?" You asked, coming upon Bucky who was in the attic, looking through cardboard boxes that hadn't been unpacked yet. Either because they contained holiday decorations or because they were filled with people's personal knick-knacks that didn't quite fit anywhere in the house.

"Something to make Steve happy." Bucky grunted, shifting Fury's box up on top of Clint's, pulling out his own box.

"Why is he so upset?" You questioned. Steve had been rather upset after the news. It had been a week after the Supreme Court decision and something was clearly eating at your Captain.

Bucky sighed, "He's torn between doing what's right for the country and then realizing that there's nothing he can actually do. This isn't a physical fight where he picks up his shield, knocks a few bad guys heads off, and we call it a win. This is a political decision, written in law form. He can't do anything for that. Not to mention, he's also more worried about protecting you and his family than others. Family will always come first for him, so it's kind've tearing him in two."

"The thing is. . ." You said hesitantly, chewing on your bottom lip. "It's male to female partner. And most people only have one or two soulmates. Most couples have more children than that anyways. So what's the big deal about the law?"

Bucky shrugged, "When you put it like that, it doesn't seem really like anything at all. I think what's really eating at Stevie is the fact that it's corrupting people's freedom to decide how many kids they want."

"Yes, that does make sense. But America, China, North Korea, Italy, Germany, and a handful of countries in Africa are the only ones that have passed the laws so far." You said. "If it really upsets people that much, there are still quite a few countries to choose from. France for one said they were never going to make that a law. And so did Japan."

"Here we go." Bucky said, yanking out a uniform. It was pressed, crisp, and clean, but definitely aged.

"Is that your old sergeant uniform?" You asked, all thoughts of political ideas going out your head at the thought of Bucky in his uniform. You'd see pictures of course, but that was when his hair was cropped and short.

"Yes it is doll. Sam's gettin' his military outfit too. Gonna surprise Stevie. He loves when we wear the uniforms."

"So. . . roleplay?" You asked, curiously.

"Nah, we don't really do that." Bucky said, shoving the box back where it belonged, gathering up the rough fabric and cap in his arm. You walked alongside him as you exited the attic. "It's just uniform sex really."

He glanced over at you and you just smiled. "Hopefully that will cheer Stevie up then."

Bucky suddenly got a grin on his face, "Come with me doll."

You followed, wondering what Bucky was up to. You two passed Sam in the hallway. "Here, can you take this back to the room for me? I'm getting something for Y/N over here."

Sam grinned, taking the uniform from Bucky. Sam was already in his uniform, which was a black sort of camo print. It was complete with his black boots, gloves, and shoulder pards. He looked rather dashing and if Bucky was going to look anything like that you might just have an orgasm from looking at them.

Sam walked back down the hall and you hurried after Bucky again, "Where exactly are we going?"

"Right here." Bucky said, opening up one of the doors, which led into another room that you honestly just hadn't explored yet.

"What is this room?" You asked, slightly skeptical and apprehensive, looking at all the costumes that were around you.

"Wanda has been teaching Elizabeth had to create costumes and clothing from just fabric, needle, and thread." Bucky explained. Apparently he had been here often or something because he seemed to know exactly where he was going, "Most of this is Wandas, but Pietro and Hogun like roleplay and Elizabeth likes to create so there we go."

You blushed a little. You'd never done roleplay with any of them. You felt that you would die of embarrassment if you tried to act while having sex. Leave that the actors and actresses on TV.

"Anyways I actually asked her to make this for you." Bucky said, finally pulling out what looked like a very old, vintage poster type nurse outfit.

"That's for me?" You asked, raising your eyebrows.

"I figured eventually you might join us." Bucky said, grinning, though you could see the worry in his eyes. "Thought this would be cute."

"Can I try it on first before I show up to your room, in case it looks bad, ya know?" You asked, blushing. You were actually kind've excited.

The thought of looking cute and also from a time period that Steve loved best was enticing. You really did want to make him feel better and you were also kind've excited to see how the outfit looked on you.

[Minus stockings and shoes. I know it's not the sexiest costume, but it was supposed to be more 1940s. It's sexier to Steve because of the time period, not if the skirt is so high your ass shows].

"I really like it Bucky." You said, grinning as you stepped over to show him. His eyes darkened slightly.

"I'm gonna have to thank Elizabeth again." His voice was husky, wrapping an arm around you. "You look adorable doll."

You grinned before fixing the hat on your head, "I kind've feel like it's going to fall off."

"Don't worry, it won't." Bucky grinned. "Now, c'mon. We want to get back to the room before Steve, don't we?"

You and Bucky quickly hurried out of the room- though Bucky left a note for Elizabeth to let her know we stole the outfit. Apparently she got very moody when stuff was rearranged or taken without her notice. She had a slight OCD problem and pet peeves about her stuff.

Needless to say, the two of you got back to the room before Steve. Sam was waiting, standing by the window, leaning out. "He's not back yet."

"Where did he go?" You asked, making Sam turn around. He started to grin as he looked at you.

"He's walking Ginny. He loves that dog." Sam said.

"Maybe we'll get another puppy." You said thoughtfully. "I think Fury feels outnumbered with the kittens."

Bucky grinned before he undressed. You and Sam talked while he got dressed in the Sergeant uniform. You were a bit nervous, knowing he was going to look absolutely delicious.

You swallowed hard when you came face to face with Bucky. He looked so absolutely delicious. The only difference between him now and before was the long, shoulder length hair. But he still managed to get that cap perched jauntily on his head.

"You broke her Buckaroo." Sam grinned before kissing Bucky's cheek. "She's stunned."

"It's only revenge." Bucky said, shrugging his shoulders as he grinned, "She broke me for a moment when she put on that nurse uniform."

You finally said, "You look dashing Buck."

"Is that right?" He grinned, one hand placed firmly on the wall behind you, the other hand wrapping around your waist. "Well you look so innocent in that lil' nurse outfit. I can't wait to rip it off of you and ruin you."

"Elizabeth will kill you." Sam stated simply behind him while you felt yourself getting wet at his words.

"That's true." Bucky said seriously, "And I don't fancy facing her ice storms."

He winked at you before kissing you.

"Captain Rogers is home Mr. Wilson." F.R.I.D.A.Y. said suddenly.

"She's not going to record this, right?" You hissed at Bucky, suddenly realizing just how many times with just how many people in just how many rooms you'd had sex. F.R.I.D.A.Y could've recorded any number of them- video and audio.

You were going to have to speak to Tony.

But after you had amazing sex with your soldier boys.

You laid down in the middle of the bed, Bucky sitting behind you so that your head lay in his lap. Sam was laying on his side next to you, lightly running his fingers up and down your arm.

You could feel a coil of anticipation in your stomach. What if he didn't like it? What if he only wanted it to be a thing between the three of them? What if he wasn't in the mood for any of you and Sam and Bucky got hurt feelings?

"So anxious doll." Bucky mumbled into your hair, "What's wrong?"

"Just worried I could be intruding." you mumbled, feeling slightly self-conscious now. "Or that he won't be in the mood and will hurt your guys' feelings too."

Bucky chuckled, "Believe me doll, even if he's not in the mood at this moment, he will be once he steps through that door. He can't resist the uniforms."

You could hear heavy footsteps now walking down the somewhat quiet hallway. You heard his open the door and Steve stepped through it.

He looked absolutely worn out and frustrated. He stopped completely upon seeing the three of you in his bed.

The exhausted expression on his face lightened, a smirk curving at his lips. He slammed the door shut, stalking towards the bed, "F.R.I.D.A.Y. lock and soundproof the door and room." Steve commanded and his voice was already dripping with so much dominance, you shivered a little.

You could hear the sounds of the door locking while a faint sheen moved across the walls, sound-proofing the room just as Steve asked.

Steve's eyes trailed over all three of you before landing on you. "You look stunning baby. Come here."

You quickly moved away from Bucky and Sam, feet hitting the floor. Steve drew an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You fingers carded into his hair as he leaned you back a little, deepening the kiss.

Steve pulled away from your lips, attacking your neck with sharp, sweet bites, leaving hickies everywhere he could reach.

"Leave us some room." Sam joked, still on the bed.

Steve huffed, pulling away from your neck. "On your knees cookie."

You dropped immediately, knees hitting the white carpet. You weren't wearing knickers- as they would've been easily seen through the white fabric of the nurse uniform- and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, staring up at Steve.

"Buck, Sam, get over here now."

They both complied rather quickly, standing on either side of you. Steve unbuckled his pants, letting them drop as he kicked them away. You could see the huge bulge against his black boxers, eyeing it like a prize.

Steve took your chin into his hand. "Go on."

You pulled his boxers down, releasing the delicious appendage, before taking him into your mouth.

"Good girl." Steve praised, butterflies dancing in your stomach. "Buck, you know what to do."

You could sense Bucky moving around behind you, but you weren't entirely sure what he was doing until you felt hot breath fan across your pussy. Then you felt his tongue lick through your folds and he groaned, vibrations shot straight to your clit.

You groaned as well, taking as much as Steve as you could, one hand bracing against his thigh as Bucky continued to eat you out, the other moving to massage his balls, want to help him release as fast as possible and not draw it out.

Sam stood to the side, growing more and more needy, keeping his mouth shut.

"Is there a problem Sammy?" Steve asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"No Captain." Sam muttered darkly.

Your giggled at Sam's sullenness was muffled by Steve's cock. Steve threw his head back, groaning as your vibrations sent tingles through his entire body. His hands grasped your hair, his hips lightly thrusting as he started to take control. You went with it. Today was all about Stevie.

Bucky sped up his ministrations on your pussy, holding your hips down so that he had better access. This gave a wonderful angle for Steve to just plunge his dick down your throat.

You were a mess, knot forming in your stomach, whining around Steve's cock. Your nails dug into his thighs as your orgasm approached, trying not to stop your tongue from delivering Steve his pleasure while yours approached.

"Look at me doll." Steve demanded. Your eyes snapped upwards, meeting his and you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth. You gave it a good suck, releasing all over Bucky's face with a mewl. Steve kept his gaze on you, knowing he wasn't going to last long with those innocent E/C eyes staring up at him while performing such a wonderful dirty deed.

Indeed, almost seconds after Bucky finished lapping up your essence and moving out from underneath you- almost making you collapse from a sudden lack of support- Steve released inside your throat. You swallowed the hot salty cum before pulling off Steve's dick.

He immediately yanked you to your feet, smashing his lips to yours. When he pulled apart, he commanded in a deep whisper, "Go kiss Buck now."

You sauntered over to Bucky, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. He moaned, gripping you tightly with his metal and flesh arms.

Sam let a whine slip from his throat and You and Bucky broke apart. Steve stalked over to Sam, "There a problem?"

Sam shifted on his feet. "C'mon, Stevie. I want to join in."

"Do you know why I'm not letting you join in?" Steve asked.

"Because I spoke out of turn." Sam replied.

"Damn straight." Steve said. "Are you going to do it again?"

"No Captain." Sam said quickly.

"Strip. Not you Y/N." Steve said, coming over to you as Bucky and Sam quickly started getting rid of their uniforms. "How 'bout you help Bucky out with his uniform, hmm cookie?"

"Yes Captain." You whispered, reaching out and started untying Bucky's olive green tie, before drawing it away from his neck. Unbuttoning his undershirt as he got rid of the top jacket, belt, and started to undo his dress pants. Once he was fully naked, you stepped back, waiting for Steve who was helping Bucky out.

All three of them were completely naked, and the only thing you were missing was your nurse hat, though you weren't sure when you had lost it.

"On the bed sweetheart." Steve said and you quickly got back up on the bed, the other three surrounding you. Steve knelt in front of you, unbuttoning the nurse uniform, turning to Bucky, "This one of Elizabeth's?"

"Yes, don't rip it. She'll turn us into ice cubes." Bucky replied.

Steve sighed, "Pity. I wanted to rip it off her delicate body." He lifted the nurse outfit up over your head, kissing you on the lips. "But I guess you'll be able to wear it again now."

You grinned. "That's the plan. I think."

Steve slapped your ass gently, but firmly. "Hands and knees sweetheart."

You did as asked.

"How about you suck Sammy off while Buck and I take care of you over here." Steve asked, running two fingers through your sopping folds. He chuckled, "So wet sweetheart."

You opened your mouth as Sam knelt in front of you. He placed his large hands calmly on either side of your face, kissing you on the forehead. "Gonna treat you good baby."

You could feel the bed dipping down and around as Steve and Bucky figured out who was going where, doing what. Finally, you found Steve sliding under you, pulling your hips down slightly. He moved his cock through your folds before pushing in.

You moaned around Sam's cock, feeling completely blissed at the moment. Bucky's metal fingers gently started scissoring your ass as he prepared to take it. It was gentle motions and after so many months, it was getting less and less painful each time.

Sam was getting close, you could tell with the way that his long length was twitching in your mouth.

"Pull off Sammy." Steve demanded, reaching up to cup your throat. You quickly pulled off, trying not to give Sam any more pleasure while doing so.

Sam looked like he wanted to curse Steve out, but held his tongue, looking slightly annoyed. Steve pulled you down to kiss you, lifting your ass a little bit before Bucky pushed into you from behind.

"Oh fuck!" You gasped against Steve's lips, nipping his bottom lip a little. Steve continued to rut up into you while Bucky moved slowly in and out of your ass. Sam was clutching his thighs in his hands, trying his damned hardest not to start stroking himself. You looked like a fucking angel to him and his boys looked so damn good.

His mouth got him in trouble a lot in bed and he always wished he could remember the punishment before he moved his mouth.

Steve left large hickies all over the front of your chest, just adding to the purple bruise like spots on your neck. You could feel Bucky pressing startling soft kisses to your back.

"Fuck, Captain, Sergeant! I'm gonna cum. Please can I cum?" You begged, squeezing tightly around Steve's cock as you both tried to stall and please Steve at the same time.

"Fuck sweetheart." Steve groaned, hands running all over your body as he rutted his hips up to grind against you, "That's it cookie. Cum all over my cock. Show me you're my little whore."

His words were all it took to release all over his cock, one of your best orgasms ever really.

Steve thrusted even faster, working you through your orgasm while Bucky chased his own release. The pleasure and complete fullness was overwhelming and delicious. Steve finally shot up inside of you, making you mewl when he bit down on your shoulder- gently.

Bucky grunted, pulling you upwards as Steve slipped out of you, now pounding into you from behind as he held you in his arms. "Sarg!" You gasped as he twisted your nipples between his fingers.

"Let go for me doll. Show 'em I can fucking ruin you without even giving you anything to ruin you with."

Bucky's words were growled and dark as he thrusted harshly upwards, releasing into your ass while you let go, coming for a second time, without anything to clench down upon.

Bucky chuckled as he pulled out slowly, kissing your neck.

Sam was even harder than before, watching his boys completely ruin you while he wasn't allowed to touch you. He could, of course, get you alone without the other two, though his punishment would be worse if they found out he'd fucked you without them.

It might be worth it though.

"Sam." Steve said.

"Yes Cap?"

"You've been doing pretty good now." Steve complimented, "What do you want to do with her?"

Sam grinned, "Wanna overstimulate her."

A slow smile started moving over Bucky's face too and you shivered in anticipation.

Steve looked at Bucky, "You know what to get."

Bucky moved off the bed, going over to the closet, kneeling to pull out a box on the floor.

"Look at me cookie." Steve demanded and you quickly turned to look at him. He pulled you into another kiss, before you felt the bed dip again, lots of cold metal being placed on your stomach, making you shiver.

"If you're not okay with anything, you tell us, okay baby?" Sam cooed, running his hands up your legs. "And if you feel somethings to much or you want to stop, you use the word 'time'."

You nodded, feeling medium sized rope being looped around your wrists as Bucky tied them together, before tying them up and around the headboard of the bed.

Steve took fabric from your side, tying it gently behind your head.

You heard metal clinking, before there was a pressure on your nipples, making you gasp at the sudden sensation.

"How are you doing baby?" Bucky asked, tugging the nipple clamps a little bit.

"Good." You murmured, both turned on, excited, but also a little nervous.

"Well, go on Sam." Steve smirked. You could feel Steve moving so that he had settled behind you slightly. He ran his hands up and down your sides, a comfort, before you felt Sam push into your pussy.

"Fuck." Sam groaned sensually, tossing his head back as he felt your warmth encase his pulsing cock. "You feel so good sugar."

You felt a metal and flesh hand on your hips now, someone straddling you slightly, situating themselves lightly below your breasts.

The metal and flesh hands moved to push your breasts together and you could feel someone's cock- most likely Bucky by the metal hand- between them.

"Fuck doll." Bucky drawled. "I'm gonna fuck these perfect tits."

You whined, wishing you could see Bucky as he started to massage your breasts, thrusting his hips lightly. Steve's hands rubbed circles on your shoulders and Steve's touch brought you back to reality. "Wait."

Bucky and Sam stilled, but didn't pull away as you hadn't used the safe word.

"Something wrong cookie?" Steve's voice had a hint of worry in it.

"No, but I thought. . . thought today was all about Stevie. Making sure you're okay." You mumbled, tilting your head back as though you could see him through the blindfold. "Want to please you Captain."

Both Bucky and Sam started moving inside of you again so you assumed Steve had told them to resume nonverbally.

"Letting me do whatever I want to you is pleasing me." Steve purred lowly in your ear before both Bucky and Sam started to speed up, making you moan. You could feel every sensation now with your eyesight gone.

The tickle of Sam's beard whenever he bent low, brushing against your stomach. Steve's hair tickling around your ear as he whispered against your shoulder. The callouses on all of their hands- minus the cool smoothness of Bucky's metal hand- as they touched you. How Sam's cock felt inside your cunt as he split you apart. How smooth and wet Bucky's felt as he fucked your breasts. The weird, but pleasing sensation of your breasts being squeezed and pushed together.

How the knot was building up in your stomach, the way that it was making your toes curl and you strained against your bonds as you tried to pull away.

"Fuck! Sammy, gonna cum!"

Sammy quickly sped up, reaching over and you could hear him getting something else. "FUCK!" You moaned as you released all over his cock.

"Good job sweetheart." Steve murmured in your ear. "Gonna let you see now."

He undid the black cloth, letting it fall over on the side of the bed. You could now see Bucky in front of you and you dipped your head, opening your mouth. As he pushed upwards, you flicked your tongue out, making Bucky groan at the teasing of his slit. A few more of these and he came all over your face, in your mouth, and on your breasts.

"You look beautiful doll." Bucky teased, grabbing a cloth to wipe away semen from around your eyes, but left everything else messy.

He moved off and you could now see what Sam had in his hands- which were some sort of beads on a rope. They started out small before getting larger and larger.

"You want to try those out?" Steve asked in his ear.

"What are they?" You asked curiously.

Sam chuckled, "Oh you're so innocent babe. They're anal beads."

You assumed they were exactly as they sounded. Beads that would go into your ass.

"I would like to try them." You said shyly.

Steve kissed the top of your head, "Remember your stop word, alright?"

You simply nodded, not wanting to actually say it aloud in case they took it as a sign that you wanted to stop.

"Good girl." Bucky murmured before he flipped you over so that you were on your stomach now. Your hands were still tied to the bed, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Although you could feel a slight contrast of your nipples against the bedsheets, as they were still clamped.

"Gonna tell us when to stop." Bucky murmured, petting your hair back as Sam pushed the first ball in.

It really didn't hurt and it even felt good in a weird way. There was a type of fullness that came with it, especially the bigger the balls got. Finally, it got to a point where the last one you had taken was just slightly to big and you weren't sure you could take another. "That's good." You said.

Sam laughed, "That was the last one baby."

"Oh."

Steve chuckled, kissing your cheek. "Such a good girl for us, hmm?"

"For you, mhmm." You nodded, looking up at him through your long lashes. It made his heart flutter when you looked at him like that, especially with your ass in the air, the pink handle to pull the beads out sticking out a bit. The metal underneath you, your nipples a lovely pink colour. Your pussy dripping for him and his boys. It looked as though the last thing to use on you was. . . a vibrator. Sam really was going all out tonight.

"Want the honors Stevie?" Sam asked, holding the silver and blue vibrator out to him, moving to kneel in front of you, bringing you just slightly upwards so that your elbows were resting on his thighs. This alleviated some of the pain in your breasts, though it kept you in a position where your pussy was presented to Bucky and Steve beautifully.

"My pleasure." Steve said, moving to angle himself just right, pushing into you. You moaned, shivers going down your spine. His hand moved to wrap around your waist before you heard buzzing and immediately jolted when he touched the vibrator to your clit.

You squirmed, moaned, mewled, and came over and over again as Steve and Bucky took turns fucking you relentlessly, rarely removing the vibrator as they did so. You were starting to go high up into the clouds, as you came again, toes curling. Sam simply held your upper body, occasionally pulling on the nipple clamps.

Nearing the last orgasm of the night- afternoon? Morning?- He unclipped them and you uttered a tiny scream as the blood rushed back to the sensitive nubs. You completely collapsed into Sam's arms while the other two finished riding you out.

You could just barely feel Bucky pulling out while Steve gently removed the beads. Bucky headed to the bathroom and Steve untied your hands before rolling you onto your back to face him.

His face was flush, his hair a mess, and there was a cheeky grin on his face. "How are you holding up sweetheart?"

"Good Stevie." You mumbled, voice hoarse from screaming all of their titles over and over again, with a handful of curse words mixed in.

Steve kissed your forehead, taking the washcloth from Bucky. "How 'bout we all go and take a bath together, hmm?"

You just closed your eyes, tired, giving a small nod. Sam picked you up and carried you over to the bathtub. The four of you took a nice bath, before climbing back into bed, and promptly falling asleep. 

[francixoxoxo]

pirate billy finding a shell or an oyster with a pearl in it and feeling kind of silly giving it to mermaid reader because she lives with it all but he's just reminded of her when he sees beautiful things and he thinks everything lovely should belong to her. and mermaid reader loves it so much too :)

omg this is such a cute idea I think I went a little too crazy with it

As Billy turns the delicate thing over in his hands, he feels like a fool. You tend to have that affect on him.

His thumb feels over the small ridges of the oyster, hands behind his back. It’s already been cracked open a bit, though he left it to you to fully unfurl. You’re laying on your back in the sand, hands splayed over your belly (which you’re pleased to find is becoming dotted with sunspots, a token of spending time on the surface), and your eyelashes fanning against your cheeks. You already called for him to sit beside you, and sure, he’s shrugging off his boots and sticking his socks into the mouths of them, but he’s stalling. His baby blues are trained on the crown of hair sprawling around your head and collecting grains of sand, the low hum emanating from your throat as you hum a tune a mother’d sing to a young’un.

You already have what he wants to give you. You can find it anywhere, frankly, so what’s so special about the fact that the gift passed his fishhook-bitten and rope-scathed hands? Fact is that he ain’t got much to give. The most he can do is pick frangipani in their fullest bloom to thread into your hair, bend over a bracelet of twine for hours to ensure the rope is devoid of anything that could prick your soft skin, rove his eyes over the surf at low tide until he finds a worthy shell. A nook to lay in, to remain near to him even when miles separate you, a bed in the softest recesses of his heart; that's all he can give you.

"Billy?" You call again, opening an eye just by a crack. The tresses of your hair collect more sand as you tilt your head to see him. What could he possibly be pondering so hard, you don't know, but you know it won't be hard to coax it out of him.

"M'here." He's snapped out of his thoughts, willing his feet to move on the sand, finding it in himself to settle beside you. his feet are in the surf, the cold saltwater lapping at them tenderly. Satisfied with his presence, you close your eyes again, turning your face to the sun. Billy twirls and brushes his fingers through your locks affectionately.

The environment is gently licking at Billy's ears, all of it careful and all of it gentle, not one thing overpowering another. There is the warm breaths puffing from your nostrils, the sea's basin of rolling tides swishing against the shore, the faint twitter and warble of birds in the forest a ways away from the beach. You fit into this place like it was formed around you, like a party moves around a sleeping child on the sofa, the tide at your schedule, the sun at your preference, the wind at your whims. Billy sticks out like a sore thumb, thrown into this world with two left legs, stumbling like a fawn for survival. In the meanwhile, all that was beautiful in nature seemed to be created in your image.

He feels like a fool, presenting a queen with a birch twig when she is deserving of sapphire.

Billy fills his lungs in a deep breath and murmurs, "Got somethin' for you." The smile that splits your lips fills the growing cavity in his chest with a whisper of hope. Your eyes flutter open.

"Really?" Your smile was one that inspired murals. Billy nods, a laugh emanating deep from his chest. Carefully, he unclasps the hands in his lap, lifting a cupped palm to you, presenting the taupe oyster. As you take it into your own hands silently, a nervous feeling creeps up into Billy's stomach.

"I know y'probably got plenty, don't need none from me, but.. I dunno, I thought it was pretty. Made me think of you." Billy rambles, his brows drawing as he watches you. There is a tender smile on your cheeks, as you wedge both thumbnails into the tight-lipped mouth of the oyster. Masterfully pulling it open, not damaging the hinge, not needing a knife to shuck it. Of course you don't need a knife, his strong girl.

There's plenty more he wants to say, sure, he could fill a book with all the words to make up for the embarrassingly simple gift. But once the oyster is pried open and your thumbs are working the pearl out, he falls silent. You smile at him when you hold the small, ivory bead. "It's beautiful!" You lean over, bridging the small gap twixt you two and cupping his cheek in the hand not holding the pearl. His stubble is familiar, the scratch of it on your fingertips welcome. "It's already my favorite."

A breathy chuckle slips from Billy's lips, his eyes filled with a fond awe. You liked it, the thought is light with relief as it echoes in his head. It wasn't anything special to you. But it passed his hands, your man held it and wanted you in particular to have it. As he leans forward, tenderly bringing his lips onto yours, you feel absolutely certain that any gift from him would be cherished more than a bird appreciates the wind under its feathers; more than a fern cherishes the sun lending warm hands to its leaves; more than the sea cherishes the moon, willingly moving to its whims. Billy'd someday admit that he was under a similar gravity. Wherever you go, he will follow.

[countrymusiclover]

19 - Three Very Important Words

Part 20

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila

Spinning around on my feet throwing my hair over my shoulders I eyed my husband seeing his hands clenched at his sides. “Robb, please don’t be angry with me over speaking to Walder Frey without telling you I was going to in the first place.” 

“Oh I have every right to be angry with you.  We’re supposed to be a team, Haelesa.” 

I parted my lips, releasing a breath. “We are still a team, Robb.” 

“It didn’t appear that we were out there in front of Walder Frey and his household.  It looked like we had completely different plans in mind and didn’t communicate that to one another.” He threw his hands away from his sides in frustration. 

“I’ll take full responsibility for the miscommunication.  With that said, may I tell you of my plan that I wanted to propose to him?” 

Robb gestures with his right hand. “Continue, my lady.” 

“Robb, those girls all deserve an escape from that man.  I mean he's old and has had four different wives over how many years.  I'm afraid if young wives of other houses stop sending their daughters to him, then he might start making babies with his own children.” 

Robb pointed out. “Like the Targaryen's did to keep their bloodline supposedly pure.” 

“Exactly.  I - I want to help then escape from him in some way.  I know that there can’t possibly be that many lords wanting to be married to the Freys but it would be a start and create the loyalty between your two houses once again.” 

Robb ran a hand over the growing beard on his chin, thinking in deep thoughts. “There’s a few sons of my bannermen who are not wed off just yet.  My uncle Edmure of House Tully has no wife either.” 

“My brother has borne some bastards but since you’re a King now you can make them into official members of our house.  Unless of course you aren’t truly open to this idea at all.” 

The young wolf glanced at me, closing most of the distance between us taking my hands in his larger ones. “Whatever you want to do, we shall do to the best of our abilities.  So he also has another daughter the age of nine and ten named Rosaline.  We could wed her to my uncle.” 

“That’s a good start.  For the other girls I think we should help find husbands for Merry, Freya, Marianne and then I can take little Shirei under my wing.  I was raised by someone who wasn’t my mother and I’m terrified to think of who will talk with her about her bleeding among other things.” 

Robb kissed my forehead once cupping my face in his gloved hands. “Your heart is one of the things I love about you.” 

“Did you just say you love me?” I drew my head back slightly with a curious look. 

Robb smiled down at me longingly. “Yes, I did.”

“Say it again, Stark.” 

He nuzzled his nose against mine with a cheeky grin spread across his face when he uttered the words a few more times. “I love you.  Do you hear me, I love you.  I will always love you, Haelesa.” 

“I think I love you too, Robb.” I grinned at him feeling overjoyed at this moment.  I knew if I told him now he wouldn’t let Jaime live another night so it was best to keep the secret from him and visit a Maester here before we left.  If I don’t know who the father could be after that the Moon Tea was my only option left that I had in my back pocket. “Robb, there’s something you should know along with me loving you.  I think I am pregnant with Jaime’s-“ 

Robb connected my lips with his wrapping one arm around my waist bringing me in as close as possible.  Wrapping my arms around his neck I deepened the already heated kiss.  He threaded his other hand into my silver locks of hair that cascaded down my back and we would have remained that way if it wasn’t for someone knocking on the closed door peeking their head inside revealing none other than his mother Catelyn. “Robb, Lord Frey is getting tired of waiting for your girl to finish whatever her plan is for his daughters and granddaughters.  What would you wish me to tell him?” 

“Tell him we’ll be out in a minute to tell him our offer.  Thank you, mother.” He glanced over his shoulder responding to her. 

She nodded, closing the door when shen left. “Of course.” 

“On your lead, my king.” I extended my right hand to him waiting for him in return to which he looped his larger one with my small palm. 

“On our lead, my queen.  Now and always.” 

Together we exited the chamber room making our way into the throne seeing all eyes shift to us regardless of Lord Frey being the one to speak first and break the uncomfortable silence that had surrounded us the second we had left moments ago. “So Lord Stark, what has your lady wife come up with for our two houses to become united once more?” 

“Lord Frey, we have come up with a solution.  We will choose some of your granddaughters to choose which of my unwed bannermen to try and form a connection with them.  But under no circumstances will we force them into an arranged marriage where they aren’t happy.” Robb explained to the elderly lord before our eyes. 

Lord Frey eyed his uncle Edmure. “I’ll agree to that on one condition. We shall join house Tully and house Frey through Edmure and my daughter Roslin who was supposed to marry you, young wolf.” 

“That can be done, my lord.  You have my word.” Robb bowed his head. 

Lord Frey clasped his hands together. “Then it’s settled then.” 

“We did it. Ahh!” I squealed caught off guard when my husband scooped me up into his muscular arms twirling me around in circles of laughter briefly sitting me back down on my feet. 

Robb put one hand on my hip and his other on my stomach grinning ear to ear. “Now all we need is a baby of our own.” 

“Actually there’s something I’ve been needing to tell you about.  I told you before that I gave my maidenhood to Jaime, that was true but there’s more to it.  Robb, I think I’m pregnant except it might not - urgh!” I grunted grabbing at my belly feeling serious pain with a liquid falling down in between my legs. 

Robb's face went flushed with fear. “Haelesa?” 

“What’s wrong with her, son?” Catelyn came over to where we stood. 

Chezney ran over where I grabbed her shoulder for balance until she bent down seeing something staining on the stone floor. “That can’t be too good.” 

“Is that blood?” I cried, feeling tears welling in my eyes. 

Robb shouted at the people in the room scooping me up into his arms where I winced feeling more pain spreading through my belly. “We need a Maester!” I was rushed into the nearest available room and empty bed with no clue of what was happening to me and my secret baby growing inside of me. 

[pixiecaps]

i hope you're already asleep it's so late for you but on the topic of the finale ending honestly i understand why people are so upset by it, i think it royally sucks, but imo it was created entirely because they really needed some way to wrap things up and i think almost everyone would agree that it shouldn't have and wouldn't have ended that way had things been different and had the server not needed to end so abruptly.

like idk you KNOW i'm a canon compliant guy but for this thing specifically i genuinely don't consider it canon and think it should fully be ignored, and i think basically everyone involved would be fine with that. also honestly in my mind everything purgatory and after is non-canonical in that it shouldn't have happened either and the reset is definitely not canon so that makes it easier for me to ignore it completely. i think what players and admins stated about their characters is canonical within reason and otherwise i don't think any of it matters all that much because of how the server ended. like to me i know the reality is that that is how it ended and we don't have any other ending to go off of but because of the circumstances there's just no way i could consider it canon and i already spend all my time dreaming up ways to rewrite all the shit that happened before then, nevermind a garbage hastily written ending that only wrapped up one plot thread (the eggs) and didn't even do that correctly (it completely retconned so much about the eggs and i know a lot of lore got retconned and changed over time but it's particularly agregious).

idk where i'm going with this insane rant in your inbox i really don't i just wanted to give my thoughts on that ending and how i take it as a fandom creator because i often see people treating it like it was a legitimate ending even though they hated it and i'm like this is fandom!!! we can ignore it entirely!!! in fact many characters' endings explicitly defy that ending, that was just the way to wrap up the idea of the egg event in some way that made sense. i totally get people being upset by it, i was too, but i was also upset by the previous. five months? of stuff so i kind of can't be bothered to be annoyed by this particular thing.

again this is nonsensical i'm just saying i think we should all ignore it and i've been saying that since the day of bc it was just so obviously not the kind of ending that would've been written under different circumstances. let's all make up better endings forever and ever amen.

anyway hi pix if you're reading this in the morning i hope you got beautiful sleep and dreamt of snoopy and roier all night

hiii 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 i was in fact asleep by the time you sent this:3

that was another point i discussed with someone els where yeah it sucked because they had to wrap it up and “tie everything together” so i agree on that. everything with the qsmp ending wouldve been different under different circumstances.

you’re incredibly real for not considering canon up to a certain point where everything got messy. i think since we’re both very canon compliant people you can understand where im coming from with that frustration and being irked by how everything played out. it was going so well and then 📉📉📉. and heres the thing you know how much i love purgatory okay cause i do but god its truly one of those events where it shouldve been explicitly uncanon i feeeeel. so much of the lore it introduced and everything clashed with everything we had already established and not informing the creators of anything was such a poor choice. but anyways you already know the whole rant.

i do appreciate the reminder of its fandom who cares. i live by that i just get Even More emotional when sleep deprived and was like wow fuck everything and this stupid fucking ending so thats why i made those posts kkkkkkkk. but ye GOOD REMINDERS ITS FANDOM ENDINGS ARE OPEN TO REWRITES AND OUR OWN INTERPRETATIONS!!!!!!!

i did get beautiful sleep ty bell<3333 i hope you got beautiful sleep as well<3333

[prismaticpichu]

Hi! I'm sorry if I was bothering you, so umm can you make Seph Zack, like Seph has a diary, Zack is sick, Seph takes care of him, add angst, Protective Sephiroth, Zack needs a hug, angst with a happy ending, please? also, take your time, it's okay, I will be patient. ❤️♥️🫂

Awwww! You’re never a bother, friendo 💖 Plz don’t ever worry about that!!! 💕

Oooh!! I love a good angsty/protective sickfic!!! Thooo, admittedly, I already have a Zack sickfic that covers those points pretty well called Priorities ❤️:,3

The diary idea tho??? I LOVE <33333 💙💙💙 Have another slash fic! :,333

18+ Zack!!

~

ZackSeph ~ Diary Discovery

The rhythmic sound of a pen gliding against paper was what stirred Zack awake that night, blue eyes fluttering open from their purgatorial state between slumber and consciousness, their sleepy Mako glow sparkling with a hint of mischief as he spotted Sephiroth scrawling something in what looked to be a little black notebook.

The sight was just too precious to be confusing.

"...Takin' notes, pal?"

The warrior’s shoulders went slightly stiff against the polished arch of the headboard, clearly not expecting his partner to be awake, the vague coral on his cheeks visible even through the glossy threads of mercury. "Yes..." he assured in a totally-believable grunt, reflexively snapping the notebook shut. "Jotting data, researching. Nothing more. Go back to sleep."

Seph was a man of many things, Zack had come to learn over the span of their blossoming relationship. He was ethereal beautifully (inside and out), adoringly kind, bafflingly intelligent in both booksmarts and the art of wielding a blade… Gaia, was he a man of so, so many things.

But a good liar was not among them.

His expression softening into a doting smirk, Zack shifted further on his side. “Yeah? I don’t think so…” He pawed sleepily at his best friend. “Watcha really doin’?”

Sephiroth didn’t even bother swatting him away, merely lowering his head in aversion. “Go back to sleep.”

“Aww, Seph…” Zack snuggled closer to his friend’s side, his tone mellowing, realizing as the groggy mist lifted from his mind that Seph was likely afraid of tease and criticism. “It’s just me, bud. I’d never judge you. Never…” And he nuzzled into his partner’s neck for emphasis. “I promise…”

The soothing assurance was enough to soothe Seph’s muscles, at least to the point where he was comfortable enough relaxing into Zack’s touch. He leaned down to press his temple against the black-haired SOLDIER’s, noses gently rubbing, strands of silver spilling across their connected bridges like laces of silky moonlight against the night.

“…I know.”

Zack’s lips melted into a loving, tranquil smile, mischief turning to twinkle in the sapphire stars. “Then show meee… I’m curious!”

Gentle chuckles rippling against from the man’s lips, Seph’s amusement was accompanied by a playful yet resigned sigh, sheets and linens rustling as both SOLDIERs pulled back from the intimate closeness, emerald eyes gazing back down at the notebook while Zack waited in good-hearted anticipation for it to be handed over.

“…Alright…” Sephiroth continued to quietly chuckle, but the genuine embarrassment created an obvious underbelly to his voice. “…You mustn’t laugh, though.”

There came that affectionate smirk again. “I mustn’t?’”

“No. You mustn’t.” But a small smirk was budding on Sephiroth’s own lips as he handed over the notebook to eager hands, immediately lowering his head, gushing silver bangs doing their job to veil his flustered, pinkish expression.

“…Can I read it aloud?” Zack smiled over the charcoal cover, wanting to ensure that Seph was still comfortable.

“Mmph. Go ahead.”

…Was he crazy, or did it suddenly seem like Seph wanted him to read it?

Satisfied either way, Zack’s eyes glimmered with playfulness, glancing down at the small black treasure chest as he opened it up, cleared his throat, and began reading aloud.

“…Dear Diary…” Annnnd tZack’s face bloomed with a smile before reaching the first sentence, shooting his partner the messy grin. “Aww man… it’s a diary?!”

“…Perhaps.”

“Aww, Seph…” Zack’s heart was nothing short of swelling as he glanced back down at the immaculate handwriting, continuing to read the entry.

“I wanted to purchase this journal because there are some thoughts that turn incessantly around in my mind, and yet I don’t have the proper experience to express them. I have always been more adept with expressing myself with writing—“

Zack canted his head as the paragraph abruptly came to a stop, starting anew on the following line.

“I love him so much…” he continued to read, a velvet throb in his heart. “Zack. Zack Fair. My lieutenant, my paramour… my very best friend. Never in my life had I met someone who treats me with the kindness that Zack does; never has anyone seen me the way Zack does, so human and unafraid… Never has anyone loved me the way he does. Hojo had always played the broken record that I was unlovable, a tool… why would mother ever love me? But Zack does. Zack has always loved me. And I think he… And I pray to Gaia that he always will.”

By the time Zack was done reading, pearls of mist had formed in the oceanic eyes, lowering the journal to gaze hazily at his beloved partner. The throb in his heart had stopped completely—frozen in place, having come to a gradual stop the further he read along, swallowing slightly to keep the watery choke inside.

Gaia…

“Are… all the entrees like this?” Zack asked, gingerly.

Seph was fully facing him now, the emerald eyes more vulnerable than Zack had ever seen them, green fire so delicately small yet true. “…More or less,” he admitted, soft expression softening into a smile. “That was only the first one I wrote. There’s perhaps about twenty more entrees in a similar vein.”

His chest practically numb, Zack glanced back down at the journal, rapidly flipping through the pages to find over a dozen more entrees in similar length—catching the familiar script of his name, catching all the loving adjectives that accompanied it, catching all the anecdotes and places and experiences shared between them…

And the mist turned into a gentle rainfall.

“Gaia, Seph…” he dropped the journal, strong arms enveloping his friend in an overwhelmed embrace, the unspoken words written into his heart pulsing with every velvet beat. “You didn’t say it would destroy me.”

“…Heh,” Sephiroth grunted, the smile still lingering as he buried his head in the feathery raven nest. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so insistent.”

“You kidding?” Zack wiped the tears from his eyes. “I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“Heh… I can empathize.”

Sapphires blinked, their color rich with understanding, buried deep in the smooth terrain of his partner’s neck.

“Did you… did you never feel comfortable saying it?”

“Mmn.” Seph’s voice was muffled by his hair. “Saying what?”

“You know…” Zack’s own voice grew small, innocent. “…’I love you?’”

The swath of silence that passed was meaningful, ephemeral.

“I was… heh,” Sephiroth murmured after a few moments, the honesty drawn from his soul, cocooned in so much warmth and solace that Shame could never penetrate it. “Afraid.”

“…Afraid?” Zack repeated, tender.

“Mmn…” came his earnest nod in reply, even more muffled, the warrior’s voice slightly subdued by the truth. “Because… because what if the feelings were not reciprocated?” And he closed his eyes, burying even deeper, quickly amending himself.

“Or, should I say… to the degree that I feel.”

There was silence, raw and real. Raw and real and long. Zack took several beats to fully digest his friend’s words, emotions conflicted, the rivers in his eyes momentarily ceasing to flow. Had he… had really never said it? Said it clearly? Even if their relationship was new, still being explored…

And the words came flooding all at once.

“Bud…” Zack pulled his friend down onto the pillow, burrowing his head into his friend’s cheeks, lips pressed against angelic skin. “I love you so much… So frigging much. So, so, so frigging much. Don’t ever worry about it not being mutual… ‘kay? I love you more than anything on this planet. More than anything… That kindness, that mind, that heart… all of it, bud. I love all of it. All of you.” He burrowed deeper into his cheek, eyes creaking open to face the watering green, their faces only inches apart.

And I pray to Gaia that…

“And I always, always will.”

…Magical, really, the way he could feel Sephiroth melt into his arms, the beautiful silver shape fitting against his body so perfectly, the harmonious song of their heartbeats pulsing together as one. “I… I love you too…” Seph wrote the words against his ear in a doting murmur, faint but unhesitant, the thudding sound of a pen falling to the carpet as he pulled him closer against his chest.

And Zack melted right into it. “…You more,” he murmured blissfully.

“Hmph. I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Yeah…?”

“‘Yeah’ indeed.”

“Nope. It’s just not possible.”

“Mnm. I suppose you didn’t see my January twelfth entry then.” Sephiroth’s eyes fell fluttered shut with a long, tranquil sigh. “My numerical list of things I love about Zack Fair.”

“Oh my Gaia… you did not.”

“Oh, I did. And I can recount them all from memory.”

“Don’t you dare.”

The angelic laughter rang warn and rich against his ears, the gentle vibrations rumbling against his beating heart, the closed pages of the notebook opening in front of Zack one beautiful chuckle at a time.

“Mmmn. Number ten…”

[scuttlingcrab]

After rereading the last two installments of the Tailor Tav™️ saga, where Raphael crosses paths with her at a ball and where he reaffirms his desire to commission another piece from her, and the unrelated (I'm assuming) piece where Raphael tries to gift Tav something, I can't help but picture how Raphael would react to Tav teaching him a bit of her craft—at least the non-magical parts of it. Maybe she can use an offer to teach him as part of a bargain with him to free her from the stipulations that ban her from creating for anyone other than Raphael himself? (also I just love the idea of this devil and his a mortal having something like a shared hobby together and/or Tav being a gracious teacher who doesn't belittle Raphael's early efforts when they inevitably aren't quite as perfect as he'd hope, but I'm getting ahead of myself here; just wanted to let you know that your writing is living rent free in my mind)

Tailor Tav™️ is back! I've been looking forward to this one for awhile and really hope you enjoy! Thanks for filling my inbox with gems like this! x

Summary: Tav makes a proposition for Raphael, offering to teach the Devil her craft of sewing in exchange for him relinquishing her creative ban. Raphael finds stitching a wee bit harder than he initially expected.

Notes: Based on A Perfect Fit, Dressed to Kill, Shadowy Deals, and Dance with the Devil. Tailor Tav™️ has also appeared in a few other one-shots, hehe.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Trial by Fire

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

“Will you hold still?” Tav asked, her voice on the edge of frustration. 

She quickly put out the growing flames with a spell, stopping the fire before it began to overtake the rest of the table. 

Raphael sat sourly beside her, completely out of place in her tent. He had humiliated himself, feeling like an outright fool for the first time in over a thousand years. He held a charred piece of clothing in his hands, the fine material ruined due to his shoddy needlework and rising temper. Somehow Raphael not only failed to join together the fabric, but had created a stitch so crooked and tangled that nothing could be done to reverse his mistakes. The Devil would need to start over. Again. 

He shifted in the wooden seat, raising his hand as he prepared to snap his fingers, hoping to erase the day’s mortification permanently from his memory. Just looking at the wretched garment left a bitter taste in his mouth. Tav cleared her throat, her own scolding gaze rivalled Raphael’s disposition, causing him to lower his hand back to the table. 

Raphael’s seat was still smoking, the top of the wood charred from his last outburst. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the tabletop, small scorch marks growing blacker with the increasing tempo as he waited for Tav to continue.

“No magic, Raphael.” Tav said, the exasperation had disappeared from her tone, only kindness and patience remained, which pained Raphael more. “Now please, try not to melt this needle. It’s my last one.”

Tav placed the needle in her open palm, extending it towards Raphael. 

“I will do my best, but I cannot make any guarantees.” Raphael responded through tight lips, carefully retrieving the needle.

They’d been at it for hours, each minute that dragged on grew heavier on Raphael’s shoulders; weighing him down more than his increasing responsibility to secure the Crown of Karsus. Raphael had watched Tav carefully, making precise notes and calculations on how to anchor a thread and initiate the first stitch, yet his infernal hands could not grasp such a simple mortal notion. 

He must’ve burned over a hundred articles of clothing since he began, slowly depleting Tav of her resources as he struggled to amend his previous errors. He vowed to himself not to leave Tav’s tent until he conquered sewing, until he successfully made himself a basic tunic devoid of any flaws. He would never dare let that little mouse beat him at anything. 

Raphael was practically perfect, he wasn’t afraid to admit it. If he could, he would proclaim it from the highest mountain top for all living beings to hear. The Devil was a master connoisseur, and above all, a jack of all trades. He had to be in this line of work; after all, how else did he get so far without even an ounce of assistance from his beloved father, Mephistopheles? 

He prided himself in his studies, in the relentless work and countless hours of preparation done to lay the foundations for his future. He shadowed only the greatest painters, memorised the intricacies of politics from every realm, and even went so far as to read all the noteworthy books that have been published throughout the millennia; but nothing prepared him for the horrors of being a tailor. The job required an old fashioned sensibility, a delicate handmade approach to see any design through to completion. 

Tav leaned towards Raphael, lightly placing her hands over his in an attempt to guide him. He stiffened slightly at her soft touch as she began to lift his hands. Raphael discretely tilted his head, hoping to get a better look at Tav without bringing anymore attention to himself. 

The Devil needed to concentrate, but he found himself momentarily distracted as his eyes fell on a small pale scar that decorated her chin. Raphael’s high standards for his own appearance allowed him to grow obsessed with others’ imperfections; finding more beauty in mortal flaws than in their perfect physiques or conventional facial features. Tav had a peculiar allure about her that made Raphael’s attraction flourish the longer he spent in her presence.

She brought a dark piece of thread to her lips, wetting the tip of it with her tongue before placing it in Raphael’s hand. He carefully watched the act, something so mundane had a hidden layer of intimacy attached that caused his heart to unexpectedly flutter. 

Raphael took a long deep breath to calm himself, there was a risk Tav might feel his body temperature rise as his heart continued to slam against his chest, beating faster and faster like a cursed infernal engine. He slowly took in Tav’s scent, savouring the notes of cloves and roses, now mixed with just a hint of perspiration.

“OK…” Tav whispered, causing Raphael to unwillingly pull his gaze away from her. “Thread the needle, just like we practised.” 

Tav’s grip tightened as she helped Raphael push the thread carefully through the eye of the needle. She let out a loud sigh as it went through with ease, shocking them both.

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that.” Raphael responded, dryly.

“You nearly burned down my tent, twice, in the last hour! Please allow me this moment to celebrate.”

Raphael’s nostrils flared as his seat began to smoke underneath him.   

“No offence, of course.” Tav added, quickly taking the thread and needle away from Raphael, “you’ll get it, eventually. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“Bah! Petty mortal idioms are of no use to me. We will continue, I have yet to learn what lies beneath the expertise of your craft.” 

Tav hesitated, cradling the needle and thread in her hands. 

“Listen, how about we take a break, yeah? I’m spent. With any luck you’ll finish this first piece within a fortnight.” 

“And is that how long it typically takes you to complete this type of labour?”

“Gods no! Half a day, maybe one at most. Of course, it depends what else I’ve got going on when I’m not fighting my way through Faerûn.” Tav grinned back at Raphael. 

The Devil held back a gasp. He had wasted an entire day catering to Tav’s ludicrous games and didn’t have a single piece of clothing finished to prove himself. Mortals cannot be trusted, even when their very souls were at stake they’d be foolish enough to risk it all if it meant satisfying their own agendas. 

“I’ve had enough of this blatant display of tomfoolery.” Raphael stood dramatically, pushing back the chair as he walked towards the tent's entrance.

The instant Raphael learned Tav went against her word, having the audacity to craft clothing for anyone but him, he nearly sent a torrent of Hellfire down on her camp. He had discovered the little mouse’s betrayal from Korrilla’s reports, his resentment spreading as he read through the detailed descriptions again and again. Tav had gifted all her companions garments ranging from nightgowns to luxurious capes, outfits that belonged to him. Tav went so far as to give out her clothing for free to random mortals she encountered on her travels. The little mouse had truly taken Raphael for a fool.

Raphael released his blistering rage on Korrilla, blaming the dwarf for her ineptitude and Tav's errors. For every piece of clothing Tav made in breach of contract, he added an extra day to Korrilla’s penance; temporarily stripping Korrilla of all Warlock powers and forcing her to train his latest apprentice, Dolofina. He even denied her use of his healing baths until she truly learned her lesson.  

When Raphael summoned Tav to his House of Hope, demanding an explanation, he was instead met with another proposition. Tav would teach him her craft in exchange for her freedom from the stipulations of their agreement, relinquishing the creative ban Raphael had set in place.

“Just give it another chance. You will soon appreciate the work that goes into making garments, I promise you.”

“These idle promises are waning, little mouse. The terms have yet to be honoured.” 

“Gods, don’t you understand? You will still get exclusive clothing. You think I would dare make another doublet like yours? That was my greatest work, and I only hope to do better with your next piece.” Tav paused, rising to meet Raphael at the entrance. “But I need to make a living.”

“You think life will just return to normal after the Elder Brain is destroyed? A foolish fancy.”

“I have a shop waiting for me in the Lower City, collecting dust. I’ll be damned if I let it go to waste when this is all over.”

“Your little shop is meaningless against what I can offer you in exchange.”

Tav nodded, almost considering the possibility, the future they’d share together.

“As nice as that sounds I’d get bored eventually.”

Raphael titled his head, a smile slowly loosening his lips. He was surprised at how little anger he felt at that moment; in contrast to the fury he experienced throughout the day, a growing warmth rose in his chest. He took a step towards Tav, towering over her as he admired her grit. The little mouse was mighty, ferocious, and would not back down so easily. The Devil was very much looking forward to this fight.

“Mortals, ever so fickle.” 

He placed a hand on his hip, studying the tent that was close to shambles. But of course. It only made sense he failed learning to sew on the first attempt, such mortal professions were beneath him, unbefitting for his station and ability for comprehension. It would require more thought, more time. 

And what more did Raphael need to do in order to impress that creature? He held all the most important cards close to his chest, allowing no one else to peek behind the curtains. Perhaps there was something else he could dangle in front of her? Something more enticing, causing her to drop everything in allegiance to him.

Every great hero has their foibles and Raphael would discover Tav’s soon enough, as he did with all the others that came before her. Not only would he acquire the proper skills of her craft, but he would crack her open, dissecting every inch of that soul in the process.

“Very well. We will continue again at first light. And this time, I expect to leave with a finished tunic.”

[taylortruther]

I wonder if the "parts of you that only glow in the dark" might come up in the idea that she and Joe spent time being sent together and her wondering in 2019 if she could ever write breakup songs while happy and in love. It's the perception of someone with depression that the pain and misery are part of them, and with someone like Taylor who created art out of her own pain, I'd imagine she sometimes wondered if that pain was something she should be grateful for

that's partly how i take it! and that's threaded into dear reader, as well, this idea that she cuts herself open for us to learn from or feel seen - but in her darkest moments, she's a stumbling drunk lonely cursed mess. she's a mirrorball, reflecting what people want to see, trying so so hard to be loved, all the time, and people lean in with hunger to see her shattered edges glisten. she's no guiding light, but she shines so bright, like a mirrorball.

to me, it also harkens back to new romantics: we're on the road to ruin, we play dumb, but we know exactly what we're doing. there's excitement and drama in pain, or putting yourself in situations that will lead to hurt. as a young person, that's learning; as you get older, it can be self-sabotage.

also also, maybe part of you DOES light up in darkness, when you're doing things you're not supposed to. maybe another man's hand lights up your darkest nights, because your love has been frozen, promised to another. maybe you DO always wash your hands of your past relationships in a dark club, after you've left like an asshole outlaw. maybe you DO play with people's hearts, never say sorry, and like it.