#its awful but i cannot look away.

[nathanialhowe]

downton abbey sucks so much. it is genuinely terrible. they cant have irish radical tom branson on screen for more than 3 minutes because they dont understand how communism works and dont want to critically examine the monarchy. they dont know what to do with thomas because they dont know how to write a miserable gay cunt. they dont even know o'brien mrs patmore and mrs hughes are lesbians. they cant go one minute without saying the aristocracy is actually nice btw. but i cant look away.

[draconicaceart]

Here's my piece for the Counter-Pale Resistance zine! The song used is "Von" from the anime "Terror in Resonance" though the original song is sadly not on youtube. The covers of the song on youtube are still very good if you'd like to listen to them.

Please consider checking the project out; everyone worked really hard on it. And a hearty thank you to @de-fanzine-cpr-pale for organizing everything. The zine looks amazing!!

[comfortfrogblog]

“everyone is capable of experiencing goodness and joy. not me th-“ *EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER*

[obae-me]

How He Kisses

Hey there, so things are...kinda awful right now, and while I don't want to fully distract myself from my other works I'm chipping away at, I did want to post something a bit short and sweet to hopefully- well, saying "to make everyone feel better" feels sort of self-inflated, but if I can make everyone stop and think about something happy for just one second, that's more than I can ask for. I have no idea how similar this is to my hug headcanon ones. Not really checked for too many errors, this was all kind of done in the spur of the moment, but I don't think that matters too much.

Lucifer

Proper and slow. He likes being patient, kissing you once before pulling back to look at your face. He feels a sense of Pride when he can see the effect he has on you, knowing that he can comfort you like this. He's a perfectionist, he likes the whole experience to be included. That's why he likes to do it more often when you two are alone, knowing he has the freedom to do whatever it takes to make this moment perfect. Whether it's music, a lit fireplace, over a dinner, under the comfort of a blanket, everything is set up for you. To show his love for you, nothing less than high quality will be accepted. The kiss is simply the bow that ties everything together. And he'll take his time to relish in this moment with you.

Mammon

Fervent and greedy. He cannot contain his love for you. Even around his brothers, he lets it slip. So when you find yourselves alone, it's like pulling the lid off a stuffed container. Your eyelids, your ears, your forehead, cheeks, chin, lips, none of them shall be spared in his spree. It's almost frantic, as if he doesn't get as many now, he'll never have them again. He craves all of you, and he wants to be only yours in equal measure. Love, soul, attention, all of it is for you. It's as if he has to make up the seconds lost whenever you're apart. He never wants it to end. He hardly breathes. Every one is just as good as the last, and he is focused on making it just as wonderful an experience for you as well. After all, he wants you to be greedy too. Tell him your every desire.

Levi

Eager and grateful. Push past the anxiousness and the self-doubt, and you find a Levi that adores you more than anything. Like an ultra rare drop he can't get anywhere else. If he can stand in line for days for something he wants, he will stand with you till the end of time. His kisses show that, how deeply in love he is for you. Given the chance, he has the confidence to prove to you how special you are to him. Every kiss gets him more excited than the last, and in turn, he's determined to do whatever it takes to make you feel just as joyous as he is in these moments. Thank you for being here with him, your presence means more to him than you currently know, and he'll spare no effort to start showing you that.

Satan

Meek and curious. Whether or not it is considered if he's kissed someone before, every time he kisses you, it feels like the first time. He almost always has a distant look on his face, as if he's thinking about a million other things at the same time, and every million of those thoughts is something about you. He learns something new every time and commits it to memory. Which way your head naturally tilts, where you prefer his hands to be, how many you like, how long they take, he's going to remember them all. Well, he says that, but oftentimes its as if his mind wipes after every kiss. It's hard to think during those moments. But he's not worried about it, that just means he'll have to keep going. He has no plans to leave your side anytime soon after all.

Asmo

Uplifting and addictive. He likes to kiss for every occasion, every emotion. Happy? Kiss. Excited? Kiss? Sad? He says he saves his best kisses for those moments especially. Maybe it's shared love that makes his kisses almost tingle, or maybe its some kind of magic. It makes you feel light. And he'll give you as many as you want. He adores kissing you, not able to get enough of it. It's as though he's almost on clockwork, having to give you an embrace at perfect intervals throughout the day. He can't get enough of you, and he can't help but get giddy at the thought of running to your side and letting you know exactly just how much he loves you.

Beel

Warm and encompassing. Gluttony often gets mixed up with Greed, but this is one of those instances where the differences are clear. Every kiss is slow, and feels as if it lasts several lifetimes. It's as if he's drinking you in, savoring this moment in it's entirety. Of course he'll come in for seconds, and thirds, and fourths, but it comes steadily. Something about his kisses fills you with a warmth that's hard to describe, similar to soup or a hot beverage seeping through every part of your body to endure the coldest of days. It makes your toes curl like they're in warm socks. It makes you feel as if nothing can get to you. And with him around, nothing will.

Belphie

Soft and persistent. No amount of drowsiness can stop him. Even if he's asleep, the demon that will normally sleep like the dead will wake himself up and make sure to give you a kiss. They're so gentle, and it's difficult to tell if its tied to his personality, or if he's afraid of hurting you. Sometimes they're as light as a feather, almost tickling you. If you're falling asleep, they'll never wake you, only guiding you towards sweeter dreams. With every movement you make, you'll almost recognize the sensation of his kisses. They're like a promise, an assurance, that even in the deepest darkest of dreams, he's right there. They always lull you into a sense of peace.

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

(ep8 spoilers ahead!)

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a king who honoured Truth.

He was as gentle as a lamb, as pure as driven snow, as warm as sunlight, and his citizens revered him for these qualities. His Truth was his kindness and his hope, and he was said to be able to heal a Cookie of all their woes and pain with a single touch, so blessed by the heavens he was.

Unfortunately, his Truth was no armour, and eventually it became a blade that turned against him. His soft heart failed to protect his kingdom when disaster fell like a fog over it, thick with malice, and those citizens who once revered him came to despise those very same traits they once praised.

The king of Truth, as gentle as a coward, as pure as a martyr, as warm as the remnants of his burning kingdom. The king, dismayed by his Truth failing him, had little idea of what to do as his citizens abandoned him, one by one until only he remained.

One day, a wise scholar happened upon the shell of that kingdom and, curious to know its story, he went to visit the king. The king, still at a loss for what to do and hoping the scholar may impart some of his knowledge, freely shared the tale of the kingdom's downfall with a deep sorrow in his voice.

The wise scholar, taking pity on the king, stepped up to the weary silhouette curled in that old throne and said, "Is it not obvious? You should let go of your Truth."

"My Truth?" The king murmured, disbelieving. "I certainly must have misheard you. I have dedicated my life to Truth. I cannot possibly part with it."

"Whyever not? Look at where Truth has lead your life – to complete ruins, hasn't it?" The wise scholar explained, oh so patiently. "It has paid your dedication back with anguish and despair. Why should you live like that? Deceit would be far more merciful to you, and it would surely soothe your poor heart, if you'd let it."

The wise scholar had offered this morsel of Knowledge out of the goodness of his heart, and for a blissful moment, the king considered it. Sadly, the king could not see it as the act of goodwill that it was, too blinded by his own petty pride, restrained by his years of stubborn devotion to the false idol of 'Truth'.

"No, what you have said is a lie meant to mislead me. I can tell, because Deceit drips from your tongue like poison." The king foolishly declares, his face hardening with misplaced determination. "This must be a test sent to me from the Witches, to test my strength, and I will not fail so easi––"

—No, that's not quite right. Let's try again.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a great hero.

This great hero was benevolent, noble and self-righteous, known as a friend and ally to all, but he harboured a dark secret. His Soul Jam, the source of all of his awe-inspiring power, was not wholly his.

Indeed, it had once belonged to an illustrious sorceror, a manifestation of his very soul. But this sorceror had suffered a great injustice under the hands of the fickleminded Witches, and his Soul Jam had been torn asunder. While he had clung fiercely to one half, the other had slipped out of his grasp and fell into the hands of our great hero, the unwitting thief.

Of course, the sorceror came to confront the hero, to claim back what was rightfully his and reunite with the full extent of his power. But the hero was unwilling to give it up, and after much consideration, the sorceror decided to be gracious. He allowed the hero to keep his half of the Soul Jam, granted that he never stray from the sorceror's side.

For a blissful moment, it seemed like this compromise would work well for the both of them. One day, however, the hero approached the sorceror, fidgeting with his long sleeves.

"My Soul Jam calls for yours," The hero admits, soft and careful, "and so too does my soul. Even though I am by your side, it is not enough."

The sorceror smiled, flashing teeth, pleased by the admittance because it proved his emerging hypothesis correct. That the other half of the Soul Jam could not have landed in anyone else's hands but the hero's, for they were meant for each other.

"Then come closer." The sorceror goads, reaching for the hero. "Unite our two halves and become one with me, as it should be."

The hero does, pressing into the sorceror's arms, pushing the softened middles of their Soul Jams together until they begin to merge, light melting into the dark of the sorceror's tight embrace. Truth into the comfort of Deceit.

For a blissful moment, they are together and whole and one.

Then pain bursts through the sorceror's back and he screeches as the hero pushes and stumbles out of his twitching arms. The sorceror's wide, blurry eyes catch on the icy glint of a dagger in the hero's hand, sticky with jam.

The sorceror heaves as his hand scrambles to his own back, finding an open wound weeping thick jam that seeps through his clothes. He starts to taste it, sour on the back of his tongue. Sure enough, the hero had stabbed him in the back with a blade he had hidden in his long sleeves.

The hero stares down at him passively, unremorseful. The sorceror's back burns with gouging pain, and his chest burns with boiling rage, coming up through his teeth in a mighty growl. Jam leaks through his clenched fingers as he curls into himself, his Soul Jam crying in the hollow of his throat, calling for its traitorous other half, ringing, ringing, ringing, RINGING. "YOU--"

—NO! No, no, no, that's not right either, absolutely not. Let's take it from the top, one more time.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a humble shepard.

The shepard was sweet and languid as honey, content in spending his days tending to his vulnerable flock. He had no interest in the world at large, though he welcomed any travellers that passed through with friendliness, making peace in his little meadow.

One day, another shepard, hooded and pale, arrived at the meadow with a single sheep trailing sadly at his heels. He asked for a place to stay for the night, as he had recently lost the rest of the flock to a wolf and, in his grief, took to wandering the lands as a nomad.

The shepard, sweet as he was, agreed. He led the hooded shepard to his flock, where the hooded shepard settled his sheep in for the night. Then, he led the hooded shepard to his little cottage, where the hooded shepard settled himself in for the night, right beside the shepard in his small wooden bed.

Little did the shepard know, the hooded shepard laying beside him was, in reality, a wolfherd. Little did the shepard know, the sheep he had allowed to rest in the comfort of his poor flock was, in reality, a wolf bundled in sheep's wool, trained to behave mildly in the presence of Cookies.

When morning came, the shepard was horrified to find that his flock, which he had dutifully nutured since young, had been eaten whole. The wolfherd's wolf, smeared in red with its woolen disguise hanging off it in sticky clumps, trotted up to its master lazily as the shepard helplessly fell to his knees.

For a blissful moment, there was just the shepard's sobs as his world crumbled around him, ready to be remade.

Then, the wolfherd came up to the miserable shepard and lunged.

He pinned the teary shepard to the damp grass, bathing him in lamb blood as the wolfherd bared his fangs and dug his claws into dough, shedding a disguise of his own.

A thin throat gave way under the wolfherd's teeth, and he discoverd that the shepard really was as sweet as honey, all the way through, as jam spilled into his mouth. He made cracks as the shepard weakly tried to struggle, tearing into his dough in reprimand, in retribution. The shepard deserved it.

He dug into his chest with his wet teeth, pulling out his jammy heart, his pulsing Soul Jam, his writhing soul. He savoured it as he swallowed it whole, as the shepard went obediently still beneath him, because he deserves it, this is his, he is his, and the shepard deserves it too. He deserves it, he DESERVES it, HE DESERVES IT--

—HE DOES, he does, but not quite like that. No, no, something's still off. Maybe a change of angle is needed. A change of perspective.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a liar.

He was beautiful, magnificent in his dark robes and rough around the edges in a captivating way. He watched the world from the top of a spire, looking down on Cookiekind from above with dozens of golden eyes, turning his back on Truth.

The liar was not alone. At his side, and he at his, was the beast that strung the world in shimmering strings, playing the universe like a grand orchestra to seranade his companion. Their power did not just blend harmoniously; it was a singular one, feeding into an endless cycle between the two of them, driven by the thrum of their Soul Jam.

For a blissful forever, they stood together, casting the veil of Deceit over the world, dampening the blistering light of Truth until it coalesced into the shadow of Deceit, becoming what it always should have been. The two of them were unstoppable, bowing to nothing and nobody, rising above it all. They were unstoppable, they could have been, they would have been unstoppable-- IF--

—IF THOSE GNATS HADN'T– IF HE HADN'T–

(Stupid, traitorous, weak fool!)

—No, no, enough, enough, enough. This still isn't getting anywhere. How about this?

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a saint of Truth.

He was blindingly bright, too bright, and he could drive the shadow monsters away with a single swipe of his staff, so radiant was he. And yet, for all his shining power, he was also a complete idiot, driven by his soft, squishy heart.

For instead he cleaved the monster out of the shadow, held out a hand and said, "Let me be your...friend."

Friend. Friend. How ridiculous! Laughable, really, in its absolute stupidity. The saint's eyes were so soft, gentle in contrast to the harsh edge of the light, gooey like melted chocolate, like the saint was doing the monster a favour even though it was the other way around, it was SUPPOSED to be the OTHER WAY AROUND--

—NOPE, no, that's no good either. Come on, what else, what else, what else– aha!

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived an angel.

This angel was once a shepard, once a king, once a hero, once a saint before he ascended to the light of the heavens. He was beautiful and benevolent, warm as sunlight, sweet as honey, blindingly bright and infuriatingly beloved. Until he wasn't.

You see, when the angel had ascended, he had thought that he had risen from the rock bottom of the river. He had foolishly believed that he now knew everything, that he had captured the essence of Knowledge through a brief meeting of two halves of a single Soul Jam.

He hadn't realised that a new rock bottom can always be created – all you need to do is dig.

And so, the demon did, dragging the angel down from the picturesque heavens and back to him, backed by a symphony of screams.

The angel tried to reason with him, with his faulty logic. The angel tried to fight but wouldn't risk crumbling him for good. The angel tried to reach out to him, like he really, truly believed it would work.

In the end, the angel lays crumpled at the demon's feet in a heap, cheeks wet with tears but eyes tired and wild. His painful light dims into something bearable, close to snuffing out entirely, flickering weakly like a candle in the wind.

"You were right." The angel whispers, about his hope, about his kindness, about anything, about everything. "You were right. It was always going to end like this."

And when the angel looks up, it is as if he is giving all of himself to the demon. Properly, this time, no clever tricks even passing his mind. His life and soul forfeit.

There. Perfect.

Shadow Milk sighs, a heavy sound that thickens the air. He is not quite satisfied, because he cannot be, not with his dough crawling with restless viciousness, but he is satisfied enough. With the story, of course. Not with anything else.

Just thinking of that, Shadow Milk scowls, finally looking back down at his hands. He had forgotten about the little plush doll he was holding. It's a cute little replica of Pure Vanilla, small enough to fit neatly into the palms of his hands. He had been fiddling with it for no reason in particular, mostly agitated boredom.

In the midst of his storycrafting, he must have tightened his grip too hard. His claws have ripped its chest in half, stuffing bubbling out of the wound like sea foam.

He stares at it blankly for a moment, claws idly toying with the fluff. Then he narrows his eyes, growls, and twists his claws deeper into the tear.

Lonely, Pure Vanilla had said, with the absolute gall to act like he could read him perfectly. Like he could understand him.

As if! There was no way he understood him, and his new little light show only proved that. Whatever understanding Pure Vanilla thought he had was conjured by his own mind, his poor little heart's attempt to find a peaceful solution. It's like Shadow Milk had told them – in the face of the unknown, Cookies tend to fill in the gaps with whatever fits best with their existing belief system, and what they want to believe is true.

Shadow Milk huffs, finally pulling his claws out of the Pure Vanilla doll. It's a sad looking thing, droopy with the lost stuffing. He considers it for a moment, before gingerly beginning to push the stuffing back in, tuft by tuft.

There is one thing Pure Vanilla got right, though. He really is the only one with the potential to truly understand Shadow Milk. He was close to it, even, tantalisingly close before he pulled himself back out again, but he hadn't gotten there yet.

Shadow Milk knows that he hasn't. Because Shadow Milk knows what it will take to get him there, and it involves tearing him to shreds–

Shadow Milk summons old marionette strings, now mostly unused, and begins to sew up the open chest of the doll with lazy flicks of his finger. Despite the casual movement, the stitches are precise and perfect. Once he's done, the doll looks almost as good as new, but inarguably altered.

—before fixing him back up in Shadow Milk's design.

Only then would Pure Vanilla really be able to understand Shadow Milk. Only then would Shadow Milk believe it.

Shadow Milk rubs his thumb over the doll's cheek, something ugly twisting in his chest. His claws twitch, eager to tear the doll apart again, to have an outlet, but he refrains because he does have self-control and he just fixed it.

Instead, he lifts the doll up and presses a kiss to the little stitched star on its forehead. No, not a kiss. It's more like a curse, a harsh press of lips with the slightest snarl of teeth, with enough pressure to create a dent in its soft head.

Yes, this isn't the end. They have eternity, after all. The wait may be agonising, but eventually, he'll understand him. Shadow Milk will make sure of it.

The something in his chest loosens just slightly, as if relieved.

[pyxxiestyxx]

Humans are Made to be Pets

"I don't fucking believe you." I laughed in response. I mean, how could I not? I've been perfectly fine as an independent for years. I've made plenty of friends (independents, affini, AND florets), but my favorite friend was definitely Her.

Jaz was an oldbloom of some kind. She refused to tell me the actual number, and I wasn't going to press it. But you bet your ass I was going to outright deny it when she says some Bloomer-ass bullshit like, "Humans are made to be pets, Petal~"

She tilted her head, as if surprised. "Did no one tell you, dear?" I frowned.

"What do you mean exactly?"

Jaz hid a chuckle behind some vines. "Flower, I've been around for a while. I've seen thousands of species. Some of them were almost extinct by the time we found them, and some were far more technologically advanced than the Accord ever was. But out of all of them -all of them, darling- I have yet to find a sophont who wouldn't make a perfect silly pet. Why do you think terrans would be any different?"

I sputtered. "No! No, that's ridiculous. Beeple I can understand, to some extent. They evolved alongside you, and your reproduction at least used to co-exist. You both needed each other. Humans are different."

"Oh, in some ways perhaps! Its true that we were able to work with beeple, but there are a few things that, in order for humans to have gotten where they were, were required to happen." She held up three fingers.

"One. Humanity are social creatures. I'm quite sure I don't need to argue this point. Its been an observation many have noticed. But it still matters that, despite your culture's best attempts to sequester everyone into individual homes and away from communities…you all crave that interaction, that exchange. You Look for it." One finger went down.

"Two. Humanity are intelligent creatures. They learned so much, and fought for their place on the top of the food chain. It was truly incredible to learn your histories! Being able to learn from another's mistakes? An important skill to have, and one that allows for rapid growth of a civilization. And also allows for you to be manipulated, controlled, really; a rock cannot hear my arguments, after all. You Listen all too well. " Two fingers were closed, now. Her thumb remained.

"Three. Humanity are hierarchical creatures. Ever since that whole 'survival of the fittest', terrans seem intent on having everything ranked, everything in relation to the things better or worse than it. It's what worked on Terra, and I don't judge you all for using the tools given to you! But it means, at the end of the day…that culturally speaking? Humanity was going to see itself as either above the Compact, or below it, part of it, inside it." She smiled. "And I think it would be fair to say that the Accord winning was not a valid concern. So when something bigger and stronger comes along? You learn to Accept it."

I was frozen. I didn't…I couldn't…I couldn't think. I was a bubbling mixture of terrified and in awe, looking up at her. My knees wobbled as she gently cupped my cheek, sliding her hand down to my chin.

"Sweet thing~ Its alright. I know that this is a lot to learn, that it sounds scary to you. Perhaps you felt yourself on equal terms to an affini. And in many ways, you are right~ I will always treat you with love and respect, just as I would treat any sophont, any floret. But at the end of the day, my dear…" Her eyes drew me in. There were so many of them, all looking at me. Pinning me underneath their careful stare, somehow both alien and familiar, gentle yet controlling, above me and beside me. Watching as I looked, as I listened, as I accepted.

"An affini's task is to care for pets, and your task is to be cared for~"

[sweet-hedonist]

Lessons in Restraint

Viktor x fem! reader

After losing a bet to your partner, you end up having to deal with the consequences of your actions, no matter how much you beg.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage

A/N: wrote this in a fugue state at 4am and finished it on public transit, I’m a god of creation lol. Not proofread at all but I like it. This is so horny and debauched have fun. Reblogs and comments make my day (I read every single one)

“You know, it’s incredibly satisfying to see you like this after talking such a big game.” His voice is lilting and thick and like a haunting melody that weaves its way into your brain and doesn’t leave, no matter how hard you try to expel it.

The smirk is audible and as you stare up at this man from your place on the floor, rage bubbles deep within you, flavoring the already cultivated desire that has been driving your instincts.

A bet. A stupid, idiotic, ridiculous bet was all it took to end up here: naked, bound, and kneeling before Viktor as if he were your king.

The bet had been simple.

“You have no self control.” He’d mocked you one late night in the lab as you lay draped over him on the small beat to hell couch they’d brought in for you. Basking in the post-sex glow, you laughed airily, your mind still a bit foggy and blissed out.

“Neither do you. Can you blame me? I’m a girl who knows what she wants.” You punctuated your statement by snuggling further into him.

A chuckle, then “Patience is a virtue. God you’re probably not even able to last a week without needing me.” His hands tracing lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that a challenge?” Your eyes narrowed at him from your place on his chest.

“Perhaps.”

He’d been right of course. You didn’t last a week without needing him, folding just on the morning of day 6, practically begging him to fuck you, touch you, anything at all.

The smirk that split his face was so vile and hypnotizing that you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Of course, he obliged and fucked you so good you couldn’t walk for a day.

“You need lessons in restraint, humility. And seeing as you lost the bet…”

Which led you to right now.

Two in the morning.

Completely alone in his lab.

At his mercy.

The soft rope around your wrists and ankles caresses your skin, knots only tightening as you squirm. Wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and just for an added kick in the mouth, wrist to ankle. Knees spread and back arched as Viktor sat in his desk chair, which from this angle looked much more like a throne on which an emperor sat.

Alas, it would not be the benevolent kind.

“What, no witty comeback or retort for me? Are you all out of fight? Or are you just learning to mind your tongue?” he leans forward, forehead almost touching yours but not quite. He hasn’t touched you in over an hour. Just lingering stares or fabric or even the occasional breath of air. Nothing else.

“Or…” he leans close to yours ear, “you’re just being quiet to avoid the shame?” White hot fear washes over you. It’s so hot it’s freezing and you want to simultaneously worm away from the sensation and also surrender to it.

“Pity. This is a lesson in humility. Obedience. Discipline. Trust.” His voice softens at the last word and there’s a brief moment where his gaze shifts, full of adoration and love and awe. It doesn’t last long though; enough for you to smile back, and give a quick confirmation that ‘yes you’re ok and want to keep going’.

“Well? Nothing at all?” He sits back up, towering over you and you cannot help but avert your gaze underneath his stare. It pins you to the wall like a pretty butterfly in a shadowbox.

“Unh-unh…” he tuts disapprovingly and it’s all the warning before the end up his cane is tipping your chin back up, allowing you to properly look at him.

“None of that. So rude, absolutely no manners. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He stares down the length of his cane at you, eyes molten and burning as he speaks.

“I…” but there’s nothing you can really say for yourself now. He’s right. As he usually is. You are ashamed.

“No? Not a thing in that pretty little head of yours is there?” He removes his cane from your chin and lets it fall to the floor, hands folding on his lap as he ponders what to do with you.

Eyes rove over your twitching body, no doubt a puddle of wetness below you dripping from your aching core. It’s pathetic and humiliating and some sick fucked up part of you relishes in it. He knows it too, head tilting as he looks down.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re just drenched aren’t you?” the mockery in his voice stirs a frustrated whimper out of you, pulls it from your chest like one would pull a hook from the stomach of fish who’d swallowed it. Bloody and violent and unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Such a pretty sound.” It’s not to you, just musing to himself. You whine again, roll your hips as you stare up at him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Touch you.

“Viktor…you’re being cruel…” your voice is fucked out and ragged, despite the lack of stimulation. He’s brought you this close with barely anything but his voice and a few lengths of rope. A feat, really. He’ll brag about it for the rest of your life.

“Am I? Or are you just not prepared to accept that your actions have consequences?”

“I just wanna touch you…” you crane your neck up at him, staying rooted to your spot but reaching. He is a planet and you a mere comet pulled into his gravitational field, circling.

He thinks for a moment, you can see the gears working in his head.

“You want to cum?” No one, nor any amount of liquor could get you to admit how earnestly you nodded your head at his words, how desperately. With a quick move you weren’t expecting, he bends forward in his seat and wraps a pale hand around your throat. The sensation is near overwhelming as he hasn’t touched you in an hour, fingers now digging into the delicate column holding up your head.

“I think…” he tilts your head this way and that, ever the scientist, taking in every observation, every bead of sweat, every tremble, “…I have a compromise that will suffice.”

With a bit of a gentler hand, he pulls you forwards by your neck, his own rolling chair moving to meet you as you shuffle forward. He pulls you closer, closer, until his knee is flush with your sternum, and you’re situated directly over his shoe.

Fear washes over you, curls its fingers into your hair, your spine, your stomach.

“You want to cum so bad?” He jerks up his foot at the end of his sentence, bumping it against your clit in a way that has you nearly doubling over and letting out a strangled yelp.

“Go ahead, sweet thing.” Your neck is still in his grip, so you know he can feel the way your pulse races forward like an engine.

“B-but-“ a protest forms in your mouth but it’s squeezed out of you as his hand tightens.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not making the decisions around here. And that wasn’t a request. Do it.” His tone is icy and piercing and it scares you in a way that urges you forward, letting the humiliation continue to worm its way into your synapses.

He lets go, a little roughly, and straightens his back, looking down at you as if you were an amusing pet.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shut your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, pushing it out rather forcefully.

The first roll of your hips is torturous. It’s friction you haven’t had in hours, so sensitive and swollen that the leather and lace send fireworks through you.

But it’s something, and you’ve been so patient, so agonizingly horny that you’ll take anything. And he knows that.

And the motherfucker is laughing.

“Oh…wow…I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Just so eager to please and be pleased aren’t you?” A deceptively gentle hand caresses your cheek and you lean into it instinctively, the sweetness juxtaposed to his cruel treatment making your head spin a bit.

“What base creatures we humans are. Willing to throw pride and dignity aside all for a biological need to fuck each other like rabbits. All for the pleasure of climax. Slaves to our hormones; all the blood being sent to your swollen cunt, none left for your brain.” The last bit is a coo, a mocking pity that weighs heavy on your sensation addled mind. His hand on your cheek is a cool balm on your feverish skin, tracing your cheekbone in reverence as the words he spits tear at you.

You move faster, chasing the high that is slowly but surely building in the lowest part of your stomach. It’s a dull burn that exponentially increases in intensity and heat. Every word he says is a stoke to the catching blaze.

A low rumble of appreciation stirs from Viktor’s chest, and the pride that swells in you as you look up at his appraising gaze pushes much of the embarrassment aside. The joy of approval, the delicious praise that a mere look can bestow; you need it like you’ve never needed anything before.

“Oh you are splendid, sweet thing. Such a good girl, so eager to please.” His hand drifts to your open mouth, fingers dancing along the pad of your lip. With no other instruction, you lean forward and take two of his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits in such a lewd manner that the workers of the brothels would blush.

There’s a small intake of breath from your Viktor, a brief slip of composure as he stares at you in awe. His eyes sparkle with want and need and adoration.

“You…are perfect, so wonderful for me.” His other hand cradles your head as his fingers push in deeper, pressing down on your tongue slightly. You double your efforts at his sweet words, spurred on with renewed vigor. For me. Yes. For him, always for him, his, his, his, his.

“Oh you liked that did you? You like when I tell you how good you’re doing for me? How beautiful you look there on your knees, fingers in your mouth, truly you put fine art to shame. You were made for this, perfect, so perfect.” He muses, and the heat in your core grows hotter with every breath he takes to speak. Your poor hips are stuttering, so desperately close to cumming all over his pristine leather shoes. Moans spill forth around his fingers as you lose your grip on sanity, oh but what a sweet descent into madness it is.

“Go on. Go on darling, cum. That’s it, make a mess of yourself, that’s it, good girl, oh…” he marvels at you as you contract into him, the force of your orgasm pulling a strangled scream from your lungs. It’s wave after wave of white hot ecstasy, and your hips undulate a few more times as you ride it out, milking it for every last drop. His hand retracts from your mouth and he holds you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Wonderful darling, you did wonderful, absolutely perfect. So good, so good for me.” Fingers card through your hair, hands guiding your head to rest on his knee. You’re grateful for the support, it’s getting awful hard to keep your head up. The thigh of his good leg is sturdy and strong from baring the brunt of his weight. It’s grounding beneath you.

Slowly but surely, your breathing evens out, his hands petting your hair reverentially, holding you as you come down from your high. You stay like that for a while, until your knees start to hurt and your wrists ache, causing you to whimper at the newly forming pain.

“Are you alright lásko? Can I move you?” He whispers, hands never stopping his movements. You nod against his leg, weak but sure.

“M’good. Just go slow.” Your voice is hoarse and crackly from exhaustion. He bends down, kisses your head, and picks it up off of his thigh. With a twist, he adjust his chair so it’s a bit lower to the ground, closer to you. He reaches around, kissing your shoulder as he does so, and unties the ropes around your wrists and ankles. They fall away, and your arms instinctively reach for him.

“Soon, miláčku. Can you stand?”

“Mhm.” He grips your hands, helping you to your feet, and you’re alright for the most part, just a bit shaky. Viktor reaches for his cane, stands, and leads you by the hand to the couch in the corner of the lab. The leather is cool against your skin as he situates you in the cushions.

“I’ll be right back, just getting you water. Wrap the blanket around you alright?” You nod, his voice your tether to reality. In mere moments he’s back with water in hand, and not long after he’s sitting next to you, pressing you into his good side, arm an anchor over your shoulders. You curl instinctively into him, clutching the blanket around yourself.

“Are you sure you’re ok, sweet thing?”

“I’m sure Viktor.” Your voice has returned to you, as has most of your facilities. The weight of Viktor against you helps immensely.

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” He knocks his head against yours, and you laugh, snuggling further into him.

“I can’t say I didn’t know you had it in you, because you’re the most in control person I’ve ever met, but holy shit Vik.” The smell of his cologne and shampoo washes over you as you nestle closer into his neck, so ineffably him.

His cheek is pressed to the top of your head as he says , “I hope that is a positive ‘holy shit’.”

“Oh certainly.” You sit up slightly to look him in the eyes, “Vik. That was amazing. I…you were fantastic. It was everything I could’ve wanted.” A dopey smile spreads across your face and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks, the pride swelling in his chest.

“Thank you for trusting me with you.”

“Vik I trust you with my life.” You kiss his cheek, and he chuckles, a pretty sound that you wish you’d hear more often. But as the months go by, it’s starting to become a bit more familiar.

“And I trust you with mine.”

“Yeah but I just use that leverage to get you to bed at night so you don’t die of sleep deprivation.” He snorts as he pulls you in closer to him.

“Isn’t it common practice for someone in your position to nap after a scene?”

You laugh, but acquiesce and snuggle into him further, “you’re just deflecting, one day I’ll fix your sleep schedule.” But your eyes are already closing and his hands are playing with your hair.

“Sure, lásko. Sleep well. I love you.”

You smile, though you’re already halfway to sleep, “love you too.”

[vivalarevolution]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓑𝓮𝓷𝓮 𝓖𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓽

Request: „Lady Margot is sent to Giedi Prime to seduce Feyd Rautha, yet na-Baron doesn't give in to temptation, showing how much he loves his wife and how far his obsession with her truly goes.‟

A/N: Request from @hskskdk , the request itself was slightly rephrased by myself but the context remained the same. Nevertheless, I hope you will all like it and you'll enjoy reading it.

Please remember that english is not my native language and mistakes might happen.

Work contains smut , minors do not interact.

The Bene Gesserit was a female order constituting one of the most important pillars of the Empire. They were devious , cold and remarkably exalted. They struck fear as much as they did awe.

Yet in the eyes of young na-Baron, they were nothing more than witches manipulating the weak minds of even weaker men.

But that changed. She changed it.

She was one of them. She was just as manipulative, just as devious. Yet one look from her was enough to make Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen bend to her will.

She became his wife, his lover, his goddess. He was willing to kill for her, to cause suffering to those who were against her.

When lady Margot Fenring tried to break him the same way , make him hers , she failed. Because she wasn't her. She never could've been.

And with her failure came the raw rage of her sister.

-First you enter my house uninvited and then you have the audacity to try seduce my husband when my eyes are not focused on him- she said in a cold and harsh tone , looking at the older woman.

-I am not obliged to explain my actions to you Y/n - she replied, looking directly into the eyes of her younger sister -Because you know that the actions of our order have a greater purpose.

-And yet here you are - na-Baroness remarked.

-I'm here because you failed my dear sister - Lady Fenring said , her face still remained stoned and unmoved- In the place of the male heir there are three daughters. To have one child like that is a mistake but to have three is an insult.

Feyd Rautha's wife looked at her with composure , but her blood was boiling like wildfire , ready to burn everything in its path.

-Bene Gesserit needed me to give birth to a son. But my husband wanted daughters - Y/n proclaimed , walking slowly towards the blonde-haired woman - I gave them to him and I plan to give him as many daughters as he wants because it is my husband who has control over me. Only him.

-Even if this is what you allow yourself to believe , don't you think that eventually the need for a male offspring will occur? - she asked her - Feyd Rautha is still a man , a man who is the heir of the Harkonnen House. His love for you will fade away.

-His love for me is dangerous - Y/n declared - But it is not dangerous for me. It is dangerous for others - she whispered , standing in front of her sister - He is ready to kill for me , he is ready to destroy everything my heart desire - she confessed, looking into her blue eyes - He has already done it…and he will do it again, all it takes is a mere word from my lips. His love will not fade away…it will only grow.

-Are you threatening me? - asked Lady Fenring , looking closely into the eyes of the na-Baroness.

-I warning you - she answered, measuring her with a disdainful look - I suggest you go to your chambers dear sister. Do not continue to tempt the creatures in the shadows who are watching you.

Her words were not commanding, but their hidden meaning made the woman walk away, leaving Y/n Harkonnen with her husband, who had been watching her in the darkness since the beginning of the conversation, following her like a hunter follows his prey.

-Do you wish me to kill her , my darling? - he asked , approaching her slowly , watching her intensely.

-You cannot - she replied , closing her eyes when his large palms rested on her body.

-She disrespected you , she insulted your children and tried to seduce your husband - he whispered , kissing her neck -You have every right to kill her. I will do it for you , just say the word my beloved- he said , capturing her face so she would leveled gazes with him.

She looked at the male for a long time , having a silent discussion with him, but no matter how much she tried to deny it ,her decision was made long ago , even before her husband had spoken.

-I want the life to escape from her eyes - she demanded - But I want her to wait, I want her mind to be filled with nothing but the awareness that she won't live to see the next morning - she said, sliding her hand along na-Baron's torso - And I want her to hear exactly how great your love for me is and what she can never have - she whispered sensually into his mouth - I want you to make love to me - she announced quietly, kissing his pale, full lips.

Feyd pulled her into his arms. His possessive grip left marks on her that she never wanted to get rid of.

He took her to their chambers. His hungry mouth could not refrain from tasting her soft flesh , marking it with blue marks. The woman in response tilted her head , exposing her neck , so that his teeth and tongue could have fuller access to her. He attacked the exposed patch of her skin almost immediately, relishing in the taste of his beloved , trapped in his embrace.

His wife allowed herself to close her eyes , giving herself over to the arms of pleasure. His kisses made everything inside her cease to exist , only raw hunger remained.

When the man moved away from her body , and her back met the cool satin sheets , her gaze rested on him , and her brow furrowed.

She wanted him close , she needed him close.

Grabbing his neck with her hand, she pulled him towards her , bringing their lips together again. Their tongues moved in a passionate dance , as their teeth rubbed against each other , and saliva lazily ran down their jaws.

His hands destroyed the clothes between them , as his teeth marked each new piece of her skin with his teeth . Her legs wrapped around his waist , feeling his thick, veiny shaft rubbing against her wet and trembling womanhood , and as he entered her , assaulting her insides , she drove her long nails into him ,scratching them across his pale back , leaving an angry red trail behind.

Feyd bit down hard on her neck , savoring her sweet blood. In response , she grabbed his hand, bringing it closer to her throat , needing to feel more of the pain which mixed so deliciously with pleasure. And the man immediately knew what the woman wanted from him.

He squeezed the skin of her neck , restraining the access of air to her lungs , smiling sinisterly as he felt her body tighten , and her climax approaching drastically fast. Her eyes rolled back , and the image before her became blurry as her body was flooded with rough pleasure , that only her husband could give. Moaning loudly ,she felt his hot cum fill her , running lazily down her thighs , staining them black.

Na-Baron kissed the red , soft lips of his lover , tasting her with extraordinary tenderness as well as possessiveness.

-My knives are yours. My life is yours. My love is yours. My blood, my body, my riches, all these belong to you - he vowed to her ear , kissing its lobe - You have bewitched my body and soul and there is no one who can take me away from you.

The woman smiled gently , stroking his jaw with her fingertips.

-I believe you my husband - she stated , looking deeply into his blue eyes.

-Rest now my wife- he muttered at the hollow of her neck where he placed a single kiss - Rest because when you wake up I will make sure that you leave the chambers with another daughter under your heart.

She obediently followed his command , allowing sleep to envelop her exhausted body. And when she finally awoke , she was met with the sight of her husband.

He was covered in blood , kneeling in front of her lying figure , holding in his hands the head of Lady Margot Fenring.

[writtenapoiogy]

need; jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x f!reader

summary: you need your husband real bad. PWP

word count: 1.2k

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, PORN WITHOUT PLOT (honestly just to get something out), oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk if you squint, making out, high valyrian used (translation is at the end of the dialogue), JACE IS VOCAL AND I STAND ON THAT THAT MAN CAN NAWT KEEP QUIET!

a/n: SORRY FOR ANY ERRORS ITS 2AM I'm ngl i feel like this is BAD

“I show her my worth and within a week she is conspiring with a strange woman,” Jace complained as he stormed into your chambers. He had been trying so hard to get his mother to see that he was a worthy and useful pawn in this war but to no avail.

“Husband-,” You started.

“She cannot keep me locked awa-,” Jace continued, cutting you off.

“Jacaerys!” You shouted in merely a whine. You hadn’t laid with your husband in nearly two weeks. You craved and desired him more than you thought was humanly possible.

Whatever Jace was about to say completely flew out of his mind. His eyes were on you immediately. His attention was solely on you. He felt his cock harden at the tone in which you spoke his name. He strutted over to you with speed.

“We must be hard at work on creating an heir.” You say to try and keep his mind off the war. He tended to hold way more on his shoulders than he really needed to.

“An heir?”

“I know in the middle of a war may not be the best time however we could always practice.” You walked closer to him and untied the robe you were wearing.

At that moment, Jacaerys realized you in fact were only wearing a robe.

“Practice?” Jace spoke with such a tantalizing tone. He smirked at you as he parted open your robe, exposing you to him.

You had your hands on his face and brought him close, til he was mere meters away from your face. “I am in desperate need of you, Husband.”

Jacaerys growled and laid his mouth to yours in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. You had your hands roughly intertwined in his hair. Only moans and saliva were being exchanged between your mouths.

He quickly helped rid you of the robe then lightly shoved you onto the bed. His sword belt fell to the floor along with the rest of his clothes in front of you as he undressed himself. You couldn’t help but admire him in all his glory. He was truly beautiful. You were lucky to call him your husband.

Jace followed you into the bed once he shed off his attire. His mouth was all over you in seconds. Nibbling on your ear lobe. Trailing kisses from your jawline, down your neck, all over your chest. He grazed his palm over your nipple, causing you to arch against his palm. He gripped the breast that was under his hand as he brought his mouth down to your other breast.

You wrung your fingers through as Jacaerys began to lick and suck your nipple eliciting delicious noises from you. “Jace.” You called out your lover’s name.

He dragged his teeth lightly along your nipple as he pulled away. You pulled him down to resume your kiss and he eagerly complied. You both opened your mouths for the other. Allowing your tongues to dance with each other.

Jacaerys was in complete awe of his wife. You were everything to him. Your touch. Your lips. Your everything, made him feel like he was being set aflame by dragon fire. You ran your fingers through his curls and tugged. He groaned against into your mouth.

You pulled your head back, out of breath. “Move.”

“Pardon?” Jacaerys genuinely looked offended, but you knew he was just being devilish.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Lay against the headboard.”

Jacaerys complied and you gave him one last kiss before you crawled down him, hovering over his aching red cock. You kissed the tip before kissing all the way down his member. You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, leaving Jacaerys shuddering.

You pulled away and blew cool air against the wet head before leaving a chaste kiss. His hand landed on the back of your neck as he jutted his hips. His wet cock slid up against the side of your face and he let out a lewd moan at the feeling of some friction.

“Please.” He breathed.

You began to bob your head up and down his length. Jace let out sounds that made a heat take over your body and a knot form in your stomach. He sounded so divine. You could feel yourself grow wetter and wetter from each noise that left his mouth.

Spit began to drip from your chin. You loved pleasing your husband. He deserved nothing less. He was a mess above you and it made you feel like you were on fire. You didn’t let up. Obscene sounds taking over the quiet room.

Jace’s hands hovered over the back of your head, resisting the urge to take control. He threw his hands down and gripped the sheets. He started to gasp and couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his hand around your hair and guided you down his cock til he heard you gag. “I’m sorry.” He panted as he let up.

“It’s okay.” You said after you pulled off of him and wiped your chin. You crawled over him. your wet and warm cunt hovered over his cock and you let him slide through your folds. You crashed your lips on his before the two of you could make any noises.

At the same time you both reached down to help align him with your entrance. You giggled against his lips. “Seems like I’m not the only desperate one.” Your last word came out in a gasp. Jace had pushed you down on his cock, completely.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and began to find a pace. Moving up and down your husband’s cock. Jacaerys was gasping and moaning into your neck. You weren’t exactly being quiet either, whining into his ear.

“Jace. Fuck!” You picked up your pace feeling that familiar knot in your stomach so close to bursting. You sat up straight and ground your hips, finding the perfect angle. Your clit was rubbing against his stomach and his cock was hitting that soft spot deep inside of you.

“I know, ñuha jorrāelagon. I can feel it.” Jace ran his hands up your stomach and over your breasts and the up to the back of your neck. His touch felt like no other. My love.

“Oh, Jace!” Your orgasm ripped through you like a wave crashes against the shore during high tide. Your body began to tremble as your heat clamped down on Jace leaving him breathless.

Jacaerys flipped the two of you over as your body still shook from your orgasm. He bit his lip trying to control the sounds leaving his mouth. The pulsing of your cunt was slightly overwhelming for your husband.

He continued to pump his cock in you. It didn’t take much for him to reach his peak too. Watching you below him. Breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes staring up at him. He came with a whine that trailed off into a groan. He shot his hot seed inside of you and your walls clenched around him. You wanted to keep him and his come inside of you.

As Jace went to pull out you wrapped your legs around him. “Wait.”

He looked at you with an upside-down smile and plopped down on top of you. He placed soft kisses on your jaw and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Jace just said over and over again how much he loved you. How he couldn’t wait for the war to be over so you could finally begin your life together.

[ivysprophecy]

please please please

word count; 1644

summary; turning off your phone and shutting out the world isnt the best way to handle your problems but its what you do. and jjs had enough of it.

warnings; i dont think there is any? mentions of anxiety attacks? tagging @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

masterlist

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divider by @bernardsbendystraws

"well hey there stranger"

i turn from my book to look behind me, seeing the boy id been actively avoiding for the past two days. carrying his surf board.

i shouldve remembered he'd come here to surf. i just wouldn't have guessed this early in the morning.

"hey jayj."

"oh thats all i get? 'hey'? no 'i miss you so much'?" he sets his board in the sand taking a seat next to me on my blanket.

guess im not finishing my book today. "oh my god jj! youre here! ive been dyingggg to talk to you! i cant believe youre really in here in the flesh! there. better?"

"oh dont be like that- cmon mama whatd i do?" i feel bad with the genuine concern on his face.

okay was ghosting him out of nowhere awful of me? probably. i just didnt know what else to do.

after that night at the bonfire i realized that with my feelings for him growing it wasnt a good idea for us to continue our casual... something. it played with both our emotions. it isnt fair to either of us.

especially after his 'i love you'. that really did it in for me.

"you didnt do anything jj. trust. i just... ive been in a funk. needed some me time thats all."

"well... do you still need your 'me time'?" he looked so hopeful. how could i say yes? where jj maybank is concerned ill easily fold every time. "cause you havent answered my texts so i couldn't ask you to surf with me this morning."

"... i dont have my board. but i suppose i can hang out with you for a little while."

"im honored," he smiles laying back on his elbows, "but really. are you good? i like to think i know you pretty well and this whole MIA thing was not normal."

turning to face him more, i sigh, what the fuck am i supposed to say? 'yea im just so in love with you i cant be around you' yea that would go over really well.

"i dont know. just gotta lot of stuff goin on. you dont have to worry though. im good."

"well do ya wanna talk about it?"

"trust me jay you dont wanna hear about my problems. theyre trivial at best."

"what are friends for if not for listening?" he nudges me with his shoulder urging me to talk. i really dont think i can do this. i was not prepared.

"youre not a very good listener," i point out, to which he immediately takes faux offense. jaw dropped and everything.

"oh thats just not true! i can listen!"

i run a hand through my tangled hair in frustration. this cannot be how i tell him. it just cant. i came here to get away from thinking about this and now hes right here in front of me acting so unserious while im spiraling.

"jj i really appreciate how eager you are to help me but its really not necessary. i didnt really prepare myself and its just too much-"

"prepare yourself? mama what the fuck are you talking about? does this have to do with that night after the bonfire? i mean obviously it does who am i kidding you havent talked to me since then. did i do something wrong? was- was it bad?" he leans in closer, lowering his voice thats laced with worry and guilt.

oh my god that is the absolute last thing i expected him to say. shit i really fucked this up. and honestly just not true.

"what? no! no jj you didnt do anything wrong and it was perfect. promise," i try to reassure him but i know deep down hes gonna over think this whole thing if i dont tell him straight up

i may love him but i never said he was the brightest in the bunch.

"okay so whats the problem?"

"the problem is that it was perfect," i cant help but let out a sigh before hiding my face in my hands as the words leave my mouth.

god my heart is racing, im not ready for this conversation. maybe if i pass out i wont have to. yea if he has to call an ambulance then we can avoid this all together. but an ambulance is also like five grand so...

shit.

"... youre mad at me because you had a good time?" his face contorted in a weird fixture of confusion.

"no! no- god youre so dense sometimes!"

"mama i dont have a fucking clue what youre saying! how does that make me stupid??"

i hide my face in my hands again trying to compose myself because what the fuck kind of confession is this?

"jj im avoiding you because ive been developing feelings for you and i cannot in good conscience keep being so casual with you and sleeping with you knowing this and i know that you do not want anything serious so i figured id just make it easier for the both of us and just take myself out of the situation entirely so that nothing bad happens and i cannot stop fucking talking so please for the love of god say something or do something because i feel like my heart is about to beat out of my chest and-"

oh my god im getting my book moment. he just kissed me to make me stop talking!!! oh my god hes kissing me.

is this where i kiss him back?

of course i kiss him back!! what the fuck!!? and oh my lord does it feel nice, so so so nice.

the way his tongue presses against mine, the way he cups my jaw and pulls me close to him. it was slow and confident and loving and everything he knows i like. his hands find my hips like muscle memory, pulling our bodies together, eventually having me on his lap. where he takes my hands and places them on his chest so i can feel his chest rise and fall with deep breaths.

“… mama you need to learn to breathe.”

“that’s not funny right now jj. im actively having an anxiety attack, horrible thing to say really."

"what're you so anxious about? i think we're havin' a pretty calm conversation, dont you?"

"i mean yea- but thats not-" he interrupts me while shaking his head with a shrug.

"listen, i get why youre a little nervous to say that, all things considered. but i thought it was pretty obvious i was into you, i just didnt wanna push you because you made your boundaries clear so i just took what i could get."

my eyes bug out of my head in shock. am i the dense one? i mean yea hes a really good kisser and i can feel he cares deeply about me when we do stuff and makes me feel safe and supported but that doesnt mean-

yea im stupid. he all but outright said it. actually he has. thats what started this panic.

"... okay yea- maybe. but you agreed they were a good idea so i figured that meant you wanted them there too. and i dont know- it just kind of got overwhelming and i didnt wanna be one of those girls who expects something huge after sex so... you know what i mean? and truthfully youre not what i expected for me."

"what does that mean?" his face showed a little offense.

"i just mean- ya know. for one i didnt expect to love my best friend. and then on top of that i didnt think id love a guy who was a treasure hunting, or- adrenaline junkie i should say."

he leans back putting some space between us, "is that supposed to be a bad thing?

"no! no jay im not saying this right- i-... youre a fighter and youre adventurous- a lot of things im not. if that makes sense. all im sayin is a few years ago i wouldnt have expected to be here. but i like it here. love it here even," i smile at him teasingly trying to ease his worries. the last thing i need is to say the wrong thing right now.

"so what youre saying is that you love me?"

"youre such an idiot."

'but do ya? because i think you do mama."

i roll my eyes chuckling, "yea. yea i do maybank," i press a small kiss to his cheek leaning back into him.

"does this mean youll let me make you a maybank mama?" his eyebrow was quirked up as he teases his question.

"lets not get ahead of ourselves. how about we take this slow?"

he looks down at my button up shirt i was wearing over my bikini to shield me from the ocean breeze, and i could tell he was debating taking it off of me. giving me that same look he always does.

"slow? mama i dont think we're gonna be too good at that."

"all 'm sayin is we dont have to jump the gun, we both admitted it, doesnt mean we gotta change the way we act or announce it or nothing. we can just enjoy this ourselves ya know?"

"you embarrassed of me mama?"

"not at all baby, just want you all to myself. is that too much to ask for?"

he shakes his head leaning up against me, our faces inches apart, "nah i dont think so. i like the sound of that."

i meet him the rest of the way pressing his lips to mine, smiling into it. pulling him as close as humanly possible. i need him under mind skin, in my blood, you know?

"i do too, so we agree? we'll keep this between us for now?"

"whatever you want mama. yes maam."

[apollo-loved-icarus]

the more i think about the gods the more i realise they have always been with me. 

Hephaestus was with me, brimming with excitement, as I grinned at my projects in wood work. Poseidon has been with me since my birth when i was born under the warm water of a bathtub and he has been with me every single time i went to the beach and felt such a distinct calling to the ocean. Demeter was with me as i played in the mud and played pretend in the forest as a child and now as i go for walks through nature. Aphrodite is holding my hand every step of the way as i try and find myself. it was her arms i cried into after every break up. she is tucking my hair back and adjusting my clothes as i look in the mirror and feel confident. she is swimming with me and Poseidon at the beach. she calls me to her birthplace like a moth to flame. Apollo has embraced me every time i smile up with the sun on my face. he grinned at me every time i thanked someone for saying my hair looked nice in the sun. it was his arms that held me upright through every performance and it is he who dances with me every time i dance around my house. Zeus is there when my breath catches as thunder strikes above me. He danced with me and my brother and my mum in the rain when i was a child. Athena is rocking out to bikini kill and green day with me. she lives through me in the rage i feel at the world. i feel her embrace when i get excited about finally understanding my maths work. she holds my hand through every exam. it is Hestia’s arms who cradle me when i am warm and cosy in my bed. she embodies the feeling of waking up when its chilly outside but im warm under my blanket. she is with me when i smell the candles i light. Hera sits beside me and grins over my shoulder when i look at wedding ideas on pinterest. she is the one cooing at baby pictures with me when i get bad bouts of baby fever. she is cradling me in her arms when i hear my parents argue and i feel scared. Artemis is watching curiously as i freeze for a moment when i see wildlife on girl guide camp. she is the complete awe on the younger girls faces when we see a kangaroo in the distance or a cool bug on the ground. she and her brother are adjusting my posture and footing when i hold a bow and aim for a target. she is the happiness i feel when i look up and see a bright moon. she is giggling at baby videos with me and Hera during my days of baby fever. Persephone is the giddy smile on my face when i realise its Spring! its finally my birthday season and i couldn’t be happier. she is holding my hand and laughing herself silly as my friends and i try and figure out the weather during school. she is sitting calmly with me as i weave flowers together to put in my hair. Hades is in the drop of my heart when i feel my life flash before my eyes. he embraces me when i am trying to wrap my head around the concept of death. he holds my friends close when they experience loss. Ares is alive and well in my mind as i type a snarky response to someone i cannot stand online. he is with me, cheering me on as i start arguments and fight for my beliefs. Hermes grins over my shoulder as i receive money for my birthday. he is with me when my father and i watch Italian telenovelas so we can learn Italian together. he embraces me when i am anxious about travelling or going somewhere. it is his arms that hold me close and soothe my panic as i realise how far away from home i am. 

I have always felt the gods around me. I have just never been able to put a word to the feelings I feel. I cherish their love so much ❤️

[newtkelly]

do you have any fave long bucktommy oneshots?

thank you for asking, i absolutely do! here are my long bucktommy oneshot fic recs. these fics are 10k-30k words (admittedly there are a few exceptions, but those feel longer than they actually are), and they are posted in one chapter. listed in order of published date. enjoy!

i sing of bitter earth by @middyblue [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-07-2024 | Words: 12,037 | Rated T

In his head, on the job, he can walk away from it. The underworld that lies in wait inside him stays behind and it’s just him and the rope, the hose, the halligan; give him a puzzle to solve and a caller to rescue and it’s like everything is air, rosy and clear and fragrant as an open field.

The Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve floods. Taylor falls; Tommy falls; Buck falls.

this was one of the first 9-1-1 fics to make a serious impression on me. i was, and still am, so taken by the imagery, the action, and the thematic storytelling. it bravely leans into being an emergency-based fic, and it genuinely made me want to tell a story like that, too. the prose and the characterization and the taylor/tommy dynamic are all so brilliant. definitely one of my most formative, influential, and cherished 9-1-1 fics.

an outlier that should not be counted by @dadvans [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-11-2024 | Words: 7,429 | Rated E

Buck knows a lot of random trivia. Tommy falls in love with him one fact at a time.

okay, i know this the shortest thing on this list, but listen. where would we all be without this fic? there is a reason it's sitting pretty at 22k hits. could honestly be the origin of many of the fandom's core bt dynamic headcanons. a delightful, witty read that captures the early excitement of bt like lightning in a bottle.

awful quiet here since love fell asleep by @cecilyv & @liminalmemories21 [ao3 profiles x & x]

Published: 05-14-2024 | Words: 15,632 | Rated M

The Buck/Tommy break up/make up fic that literally no one was asking for but me. Things don’t always work out, the first time around.

"We'll be friends?" Because this is the right move, the smart move.

There's an expression he can't read that crosses Tommy's face, but then he nods, and sticks out his hand for Buck to shake. "Of course."

Buck hates it. But he made the bed, it's his to lie in. They shake on it.

the original break up fic. this is an amazing buck character study that honestly feels a bit prophetic in retrospect. i remember how i felt reading this, so heartbroken but so obsessed with the way buck navigated through understanding his own loneliness. it's absolutely joyful.

something ‘bout a boat by @swiftietartt [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-30-2024 | Words: 9,825 | Rated E

Tommy introduces Evan to his friends.

this is my one of my most cherished fics, i honestly cannot articulate how intensely i feel about it or do its brilliance much justice. begging you to read it if you haven't. to this beautiful author, should you ever write buck and tommy again, please know i will be first in line to read it. this story is charming beyond belief. this version of tommy is not one that you read about often, and i fucking love that. in this story, tommy is aloof but well-loved, has a delightful circle of true friends, and he has a fucking boat. there is not that much buck in this story, though he is omnipresent in a way. it builds and builds up to them finally getting to be alone below deck, and it's all the more delicious because of the wait. fabulously unique, there is really nothing else like it.

a full-body workout by @persiflager [ao3 profile]

Published: 07-02-2024 | Words: 7,901 | Rated E

When Tommy turns back to Eddie he finds Eddie giving him a knowing look. “Laundry and meal prep, huh?”

another one that is so carefully written that it feels longer than it is. one of the things i love so much about this story is the trio dynamic. the evolved friendship that eddie has with buck and tommy is, at least for me, best depicted here than anywhere else i've ever seen it. and, on top of that, there is just something so appealing to me about spending an entire day wanting to fuck so bad, but your friend is over so you've gotta practice patience. the anticipation that builds is really nuanced, it's truly a perfectly told slice of life.

the suffering of evan buckley('s sex drive) by @sugarpenchant [ao3 profile]

Published: 07-16-2024 | Words: 10,513 | Rated E

Tommy has been gone fighting fires for a month as vital air support, which would be fine—except for the fact that Buck has finally gotten a taste of sex with Tommy only for it to be cruelly whisked away. Buck finally gets his chance to join the firefighting efforts on the front lines and hopefully, someday before the world ends, ideally, he’ll get to see Tommy again.

There is a chance that Buck is being a little overdramatic about the whole thing, but a month is a really long time to go without the wonder of your brand new boyfriend.

posted for day 2 prompt of five alarm fest: after a dry spell

i need you to understand exactly one thing. this is the hottest fic ever. no like, this is the hottest fic i've read in years. buck, having just gotten dicked down for the first few times loses a summer of lovin' to a wildfire. tommy's on the frontlines, and what does buck do? he joins the ranks just for the possibility to be physically closer to him (and his dick). the world-building is fantastic for its length, particularly with the inclusion of lone star characters. when they finally see each other that first time, goddamn. the way they want each other but can't do a thing is a tease like nothing else. but where there's a will, there's a way. the fuck they manage to fit in between fighting the wildfire is a high that buck is able to ride (pun intended) for a while. i'm literally so addicted to this fic. erotic perfection.

knee deep in the passenger seat by @firstaudrina [ao3 profile]

Published: 08-08-2024 | Words: 9,039 | Rated E

What Buck liked best was that first thrill — a smile returned, a flirtatious joke — and then the heated next-next-next, all the things he still had to learn there.

aka Buck begins (in bed).

this ends with bucktommy, but it's a lot more than that and that isn't the draw of this fic. this is for the evan buckley lovers. this is like going to your favorite porn star's profile and watching a snippet of every single thing they've ever starred in. it's so good, it's so hot, it's so complicated. a great and very unique read.

bop it, twist it, pull it by @al-the-remix [ao3 profile]

Published: 08-14-2024 | Words: 21,642 | Rated E

“Hey!”

He doesn’t mean to yell, but Tommy still jumps a little beneath him. “Jesus, Evan, what–”

“You have a fucking dick piercing,” Buck half proclaims, half accuses. This is what Tommy has been holding out on all this time?

or

Buck discovers more about Tommy (and himself) through Tommy's piercings.

there's something about this fic that fits so perfectly into my fantasy of tommy. there's this punkishness about him in my head, and maybe that is a feeling that carried over from seeing pictures of lfj as a young, bulky, pierced scoundrel, but this story fits that image. super hot, a wealth of edginess.

fever's high with the lights down low by @kirkaut [ao3 profile]

Published: 09-07-2024 | Words: 11,731 | Rated E

No one has ever done this for him before. He didn’t even know how badly he wanted someone to do this - to think of him this way, to not only shoulder some of his weight but to want to - until this moment. Most people he’s dated have tended to give him a wide berth after a long, grueling shift, and he’d always thought that was what he wanted. It had been a little lonely, sure, but there wasn’t much he typically did afterwards that wasn’t refuel and rest.

Maybe he should have known better when it comes to Evan, who had jumped feet first into this relationship and never once looked back. Evan, who has worked these kinds of shifts himself and understands Tommy in a way that none of his exes ever have before.

Evan, who pours the love out of himself like it's as easy as breathing.

i remember reading this story for the first time. i was on vacation in a hotel bed, and i just felt so luxurious and indulgent getting to read this unbelievably hot, heartfelt story in utter comfort. it's the perfect analogy for how this fic makes you feel. it's pwp at its honest best.

engine purr by @epiphainie [ao3 profile]

Published: 09-16-2024 | Words: 15,010 | Rated E

“Oh! Yes. My car, my Jeep, I mean,” Buck said, gaze falling on the hands reaching for a rag. “It just sputtered and died on me right outside of town and there was no reception… I-I didn’t know what to do so I just… walked.” He swallowed and looked up again. “I thought I could call Triple A? Or maybe 9-1-1?”

The guy looked at Buck. There was a slight furrow to his brows, a tinge of bemusement in his eyes. The lines of his face were sharp and straight everywhere, but well-worn too, making Buck realize he was older than him by at least a decade and some change, if not more.

“That’s not for 9-1-1. And Triple A costs an arm and a leg if you don’t have a membership,” he said in a languid voice. “Lucky for you, though, you walked into this town’s one-and-only repair shop.”

buck takes a road trip before his new job, the jeep breaks down in the middle of nowhere, a small-town mechanic helps him out

my friend is a genius. okay full disclosure, au is not always my thing, and never my preference. i know that is a very unpopular opinion, but i think i am just very picky about it - but when it's done well, it can't be beat. this fic is fucking amazing and the age difference is a thing to behold. i always find myself so immersed in mimi's stories, particularly the dialogue. as i was reading this fic, i would find myself deep in one of buck and tommy's conversations and be so struck by how tangible and accurately articulated the characters are. in my own writing, i drag my feet over dialogue, never really knowing if something is too long-winded, or far too short. that happens to be mimi's strength, especially here - their conversations are perfectly paced, chatty, and true. beyond that, i could probably gush just as much over how hot the tension, build-up, and well-earned sex is in this fic. my fiancé called it the hottest bt she's ever read. by the way, even as i write this little blurb, my mind is saturated with images of tommy's apartment over his shop, and that is a true testament to the visceral and descriptive writing that is achieved here. i will wrap this up by saying i truly cannot wait until the next part in this story is posted! god, i love good writing.

in a yellow wood by @cecilyv & @liminalmemories21 [ao3 profiles x & x]

Published: 11-10-2024 | Words: 9,847 | Rated E

It’s been three years since the break-up when Tommy saves a family and it upends his life.

He’s paying more attention to explaining what the various levers and controls do than he is to what’s going on in the hangar and his head whips around when he hears a familiar voice saying. “Kam, the whole point of leaving my kid with you was to not take him to work.”

this is one of two break up/make up fics that i hold very dear. there are things that ring very true about it, and things that are legitimately haunting. they're apart for years - right from the jump, that is a sobering revelation. buck has a baby. buck doesn't look like he used to - his hair is shorter, he has a slighter frame. his life, his body, his world has changed. but he wears the maturity well, and he wears fatherhood well, and tommy wants in and he fucking earns a seat at the table. he earns love, he earns a family. it's a fucking beautiful rosy picture of what a future could be. it's so special, and so healing.

closet conversations by @eyesonstars-feetonground [ao3 profile]

Published: 11-12-2024 | Words: 10,599 | Rated M

Six months is a long time to stick around if he thought you’d dump him.

OR

After his boyfriend dumps him, Evan Buckley goes on a date, makes a new friend, has some conversations, and realizes he's queer. Tommy haunts him every step of the way.

this break up/make up is a triumph. very, very special to me. my favorite thing about this story is that it is a love letter to queer media and culture. this fic grabs one of the loosest threads of buck and tommy's canon relationship and pulls and pulls at it, taking a closer look at what it means for buck to date and fuck a guy for six months but not be able to correct some girl that he was on a date (for his six month anniversary, no less), or correct maddie that he isn't gay. it's one of so many things that deserves closer analyzation, and it's done so brilliantly here. buck and queerness go so, so well together - i am desperate for more carefully constructed analyses and stories like this one.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Ghost Whisperer || CL16

AN: another one from the archives of forgotten fics.

Summary: gifted with the ability to talk with the dead, you meet a man who wants you to take him to Monaco to check on his godson.

Warnings: mentions of death

Your family holiday had taken a turn when you reached Nice, France, and found the apartment that they had rented was already occupied. They were oblivious to the man who had lived there a decade earlier but your sixth sense had spotted him the moment you walked in the door.

“You’re going to love him,” Jules repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.

“This isn’t Tinder,” you said to the apparition sitting in the passenger seat of your rental car. “I’m just going to find your friend so you can finally rest.”

“What’s Tinder?”

“Nevermind.”

“And he’s not just my friend,” he corrected. “He’s my godson, he’s family.”

You sighed as you imagined how the conversation would go with a child. It was hard enough trying to explain your gifts to adults who understood what you were saying, they just didn’t believe you. Everyone thought you were just trying to scam them when you said you had a message from a loved one.

“He’s the kindest kid you’ll ever meet. You’ll see.” Jules smiled as you followed his directions and crested over the mountain range to see Monaco in all its summer glory. “Beautiful, right?”

You were awestruck by the sight of the sun on the sea and his smile grew at your loss for words. It was a shame you had to drive when all you wanted to do was sit and watch the city grow before your eyes. Unfortunately it took a huge amount of energy for a ghost to even move a feather so there was no hope of Jules taking over the steering wheel for you.

Once inside the city he directed you to a home that the family had lived in and hopefully still did. The white door had a large brass door knocker in the shape of a lion and it was cold to the touch when you grabbed it.

“Bonjour,” a friendly middle aged woman answered and Jules breathed her name like prayer. “Puis-je vous aider?”

“Do you speak English?”

“Yes, is there something I can help you with?”

You looked to your left and Jules gave you an encouraging smile. “I was hoping to speak to Charles. Is he here?”

You were aware it was a weekday and he was likely at school but it was still disappointing to see Pascale shake her head. “He hasn’t lived here for some time, are you a friend of his?”

She was already growing defensive, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for your answer. “No, we don’t know each other but a mutual friend asked me to pass a message to him.”

“Aw, we are friends,” Jules chuckled and you had to fight to resist rolling your eyes.

“Perhaps I should call my son,” she murmured as she held a hand up. “Just wait here a moment.”

She closed the door behind her and you waited impatiently as you shifted on your feet. “What happens if she doesn’t give up his address?”

“The city isn’t that big, I’m sure we can find him.” His attention turned to the door and he went to nudge you but his elbow went straight through, causing goosebumps to travel across your skin.

“Stop doing that,” you growled as the door opened. Pascale gave you an odd look as she found you alone waiting, but she didn’t ask who you were talking to as she held a phone out.

“He wants to know who this mutual friend is.”

You took the phone and raised it to your ear. “Hello, is this Charles?”

“Yes, now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you trespassed?”

You reeled back at the animosity, but also the depth of his voice. He was not the child you had envisioned. “I have done nothing wrong.”

“I understand you are a fan and I appreciate that, but you cannot just keep showing up at my mother’s house and expect to find me. There is a boundary and this is crossing it.”

You pulled back the phone to look at it in disgust before you turned and took a step away from his mother. “I don’t know who you think you are, hot shot, but I was only doing this because your friend asked me to. For some reason he thinks highly of you, but I can’t say the same.”

The seconds dragged on and if it wasn’t for his soft breathing you would have thought the call disconnected. “Who?” he finally asked.

You took a steadying breath knowing this was almost always the point that you lost their interest. “Jules.”

“Goodbye.”

“Charles!” Your ears rang with Jules’ outburst and the screen pixelated before returning to normal to show the call was still connected. Charles’ breathing turned ragged as he choked on his tongue knowing the voice he had heard. Doubt and other emotions roiled his insides but he couldn’t hang up no matter how much he wanted to.

An address rattled off his heavy tongue and Jules recognised the street name, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you soon,” you said as you handed the phone back to his mother.

“Please don’t hurt him,” she asked as she pocketed the device.

“I just want to pass on a message and go back to my holiday,” you promised, though she frowned at the evasive words that created more questions she held back.

By force of habit, her frown deepened when you nodded your head to the empty space beside you and muttered, “Come on then.”

Jules lingered another moment, his hand reaching for Pascale’s only for her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. With a sigh, he turned away and heard the door click shut behind him.

“She was like a second mother to me,” he said quietly as he caught up. “The kindest woman I knew.”

“You also said Charles would be great but so far that is not how I am feeling.”

Jules had nothing to say to that, but it had been 10 years since his death. Perhaps a decade had changed Charles while Jules remained the same.

–

The apartment building was as pretty as the rest that you had passed but the afternoon sun left a shadow climbing its walls and you couldn’t help feeling like it was an omen as you buzzed his apartment number. Instead of answering, the front door unlocked and you stepped inside apprehensively. Each step on the tiled floor echoed and you followed the apartment numbers as you climbed the stairs to Charles’.

His door was already opened, a handsome man leaning against the doorway, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned you with each step closer. You wanted to elbow Jules for not telling you his godson was Adonis reincarnated but Jules was in his own state of shock seeing Charles grown into adulthood. The boy he knew was long gone, this was a man.

“My mother said to listen to you, that is the only reason you are here.” He stood up straighter, blocking you from seeing the inside of his home. “Say what you need to then go.”

You looked at Jules but he wasn’t any help as his jaw still hung open. You decided to go with honesty but really you were just taking a shot in the dark, he didn’t seem like the type to believe anything that was going to come out of your mouth. “My AirBnB in Nice came with a ghost named Jules and he wanted me to find you.”

Charles' hands dropped limp at his sides before a sharp laugh erupted and he stepped back into this apartment. He reached for his door, ready to slam it closed when Jules emerged from his stupor and whispered a few words for you to repeat.

“Bring it home, underdog.”

Charles froze at the words and nearly stumbled as he spun around. Anger painted his face and he closed the distance in a few strides as he shoved a shaking finger in your face. “What did you say?”

You swallowed at the animosity in his tone before straightening your spine and looking him in the eye. “The only way you show these guys you’re not a charity case is to prove them wrong and win, kid.”

His nose twitched as he struggled to understand the words he had heard once before. “Who told you to say that?”

You jutted your thumb at Jules. “You know who, the same man that told me.”

An array of emotions flitted across his face before settling on disbelief. “That’s not possible.”

“I wish,” you murmured before looking at Jules, and you felt bad. “Sorry.”

“I wouldn’t want that gift either,” he admitted. “Can you tell him he looks strong? And he finally grew into his big head.”

“Jules says you look good.”

“I said strong.”

“Strong, whatever,” you corrected. “He thinks you look strong. And you had a big head. Are you still racing?”

Charles followed your eyes to the space beside you but no matter how hard he tried to focus he couldn’t see anything. “I must be crazy.”

You snorted a laugh at what Jules said before repeating it. “No, you were crazy when you drove for years without knowing how to use the brakes.”

“I was eight,” Charles defended himself before realising that was not something widely known and something akin to wonder brightened his face. “Jules?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m here.”

Charles stepped aside and waved a hand in, urging you to follow him to the dining room table. He grabbed three bottles of water without thinking and then frowned as he put one back, a look of sadness washing over him.

“Don’t feel sad,” you said as you accepted the water. “Good things came about because of his death.”

Charles scoffed and untwisted the bottle cap with more force than necessary, spilling water over his hands. “Not for me.”

“You’re alive because of him, and that makes him happy,” you said, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. “Because of Jules they made the halo and that saved your life, and others too. He would take the sacrifice any day.”

“Always,” Jules echoed. He placed his hand on top of yours and it drifted through, sending goosebumps up yours and Charles’ arms.

“Jules,” you growled as you shook your hand out, but Charles stared at his in wonder.

“I felt him,” he whispered in amazement. “Mon Dieu!”

—

The next few hours passed by with an onslaught of questions, mostly ‘how’. How do you do it? How long have you seen them? How did you find out?

Slowly the questions became more personal.

“Do you do this for work?”

“No way, well kind of, maybe…I’m studying history. It does help when the old professor still hangs out in the library. He’s happy to help whenever I have questions.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“It’s no different to a tall person playing basketball. Success is just playing to your strengths.”

“Is talking to the dead really a strength?” Jules asked as he crossed his legs and drummed his fingers on his lips, pondering. “Surely you are just missing out on life.”

“I don’t think you’re one to talk, you’re still here when you could be enjoying whatever afterlife awaits.”

“I wish I could hear him,” Charles sighed. “Why hasn’t he moved on?”

You shrugged and looked at Jules for an answer.

“I promised Hervé I would watch over him.”

Charles’ eyes misted and his head bowed as he tried to hide how he wiped the tears away. “I’m an adult now, Jules, you don’t have to stick around for me.”

“I see that now,” he said with a sad smile as he stood up and ruffled Charles' hair. “I love you, kid.”

Charles’ breath shuddered from his lungs as he felt the large hand on his head for a second before it disappeared. “Is he…is he gone?”

You watched Jules step out onto the balcony and warmth flooded the room as he faded into the shimmering light.

“Now he is,” you swallowed the lump in your throat that always came with the final goodbye. Standing up, you looked to the door and wondered if you should quietly leave but when you looked back at Charles, his eyes red and cheeks wet, you knew you couldn’t leave him that way.

Walking around the table, you took a seat next to Charles and took his hand. He broke away from staring silently at the wood grain and knots in the table and sniffled. “Thank you.”

“I would say anytime but…”

You smiled as Charles managed a small chuckle. “I think once is enough, but I wonder…” he looked around the room. “You haven’t seen my father have you?”

You shook your head. “There wasn’t anyone at your mother’s house either. It’s likely if he was at peace then he’s already moved on.”

“Good, that’s good.” He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dampness on his hands. “Sorry.”

“I’m used to it, you cry as much as you want. There isn’t exactly a right way to feel when it comes to this,” you admitted as you looked out of the balcony to see the marina looking even more beautiful.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He caught your lingering gaze and cleared his throat. “Maybe I could show you the city?”

“You’re probably in shock. You should rest,” you said with a shake of your head. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Monaco on my mum’s itinerary for next week. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Or maybe you could call me?”

[ordowrites]

kissing you

cw: very suggestive themes, slight yan content with wanderer, self indulgent, overall fluff, afab!reader in some parts (overall, gn! terms used, reader wears make up/dress), terrible flirting. minors dni, mdni. user has a vision.

characters: kaeya, diluc, wanderer, arlecchino, al-haitham

kaeya has been staring at your lips for awhile now - as you talk about something that you ran into while out doing some sort of investigation. it's starting to make you nervous, the way he remains silent, bent down, his eye on your lips and his head tilted to the side.

"captain? are you listening to me? this this hilichurl camp set up nearby and -"

"yes, yes." kaeya says with a wave of his hand. "i'll have some of my people get on it." he pauses now, leaning in closer. you can smell his cologne. "say, did you get a new shade of lipstick?"

"i-uh, yes?"

"hmm." he gently cups your chin with his fingers, tilting his head to the side as he gently kisses you. "aw, it's not flavored this time."

all you can do is stutter before he bends in to kiss you again.

the fall night is warm, you're warm as you wrap your arms around his as the pair of you exit the manor for the night - the party goers dispersing and it's time for you to head home as well. the abundance of wealth diluc has always surprises you, on top of all his connections. he tells you about something, maybe it's another compliment in the list of all the creative ways he tells you how much he loves you, you're not sure but you're tired.

"shall i accompany you home tonight, my love?" diluc asks as he helps you into your carriage. "you are certainly more than welcome to also stay the night."

"ah, but we certainly cannot have rumors flying around just yet." you say with a tired giggle. playing hard to get is one of your favorite things to do - he seems to enjoy the chase some, at least.

"then," he gently takes your hand into his gloved one, those red eyes that always look into your soul and beyond, look into your own, as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand. "get home safe, okay? if you encounter any trouble, do not hesitate to return."

you smile, taking your hand back and bend down (silently delighting into the new height advantage the carriage gives you) and kiss him on the cheek.

"have a lovely night, diluc." yet it takes one more kiss to pull you out of the carriage and back into his manor.

he is irritated, agitated more like, with his pacing back and forth. you sigh and watch him, legs crossed and elbows resting on your thighs. you're getting dizzy at this point, but his frustration is honestly really funny.

all that had to happen was someone complimenting you today and he loses his mind. the entire day, he's been sulking and pouting and grumbling.

"hat guy," you call to him, gently. "are you okay?"

he stops in his tracks, staring dead in your eyes. "no," he grumbles. "i am not." you huff a laugh and shake your head. it's like you blink and he's blocking your view of well - the rest of the living room. you're not exactly sure what's happening, but your shirt is being pulled down and his lips are pressing against the tender skin at the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.

and he bites. you yelp a bit, but he doesn't pull away until there is a bright red mark there.

"you're mine, don't forget that."

"you never let me forget." you grumble as he pushes you down, his teeth sinking into more of your neck.

you are wholly naked after getting out of the bath, and sitting between arlecchino's legs, on her bed, as she brushes your hair. she admires every inch of you, on a daily basis. whenever you ask about her doing your hair, she simply tells you that she enjoys it and should she not pamper her loved one? so you always drop the subject and lean into this momentary peace in her chaotic life. the candle flickers some, its flame casting a gentle glow in the bedroom.

a clawed hand rests on your thigh and you peek at the full length mirror, she's set the brush down.

warmth blossoms through you as she kisses the back of your neck, trailing kisses down along your spine until she reaches midback. after a moment, she's tugging at your hair, forcing you to lean your head back as she kisses you on the lips.

"you're very beautiful." she murmurs.

"you tell me that often." you tell her with a little giggle. she hums softly.

"not often enough." she declares, her hand reaching for the brush again. "i believe i should praise you more. you are a good girl, after all." your face reddens at that and she looks even more pleased. another kiss is pressed to the side of your neck before she resumes her previous task.

you talk too much, al-haitham has told you many times - you like to visit him in his office at lunch every day, just to ramble on and on. you like to think he's listening, but with his eyes always glued on his book, you're never sure. but that never stops you (nor does it ever stop kaveh, the poor man sometimes stresses himself out over his roommates indifference). oh, you do this to annoy him most of the time, but lately, it's just scheduled and expected.

"and can you believe-"

your words are cut off when his lips meet yours, your eyes widen when he pulls away. you're stunned as you sit down on the comfortable couch, trying to comprehend what just happened.

"do you hear that?" he asks you after a moment.

"no. what should i be hearing?"

"the sound of sweet silence." al-haitham finally answers, and you finally look at him, while his eyes are glued to the book, he has a smug look to his face. oh this asshole.

[edenesth]

Arrows and Affection

Pairing: warrior!Yeosang x fem!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Admiral Kang never misses his mark—until today. No matter how many times he draws his bow, the bullseye remains untouched. The wind hasn't changed, nor has his skill faltered. The only difference? The presence of a certain someone who has somehow turned his unwavering focus into a battlefield of its own.

Genre: fluff, comedy

A/N: Y'all when I saw these damn pics Yeo posted, I knew I'd have to write something. Then I heard Fallin' by Bang Yedam and couldn't stop thinking about this scenario.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

I still cannot believe this man is real.

The thought echoed in your mind as you struggled to tear your gaze away from him. With effortless precision, Kang Yeosang drew his bow, his stance steady, his movements practised to perfection. Years of training had made archery second nature to him—so much so that watching him was almost hypnotic. He wasn't just any warrior; he was the Admiral Kang, the youngest and most revered commander in Joseon, a man whose victories in battle had cemented his place in history. And yet, despite his fearsome reputation, you still found it surreal that you could stand this close to him.

"Wh-what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here right now!"

The urgent whisper jolted you from your thoughts. A senior maid stared at you in horror, eyes wide as she took in your pitiful attempt to hide behind a paper door—one that did little to conceal your presence. You flashed her a sheepish grin and waved the washcloth in your hand. "Relax, I'm just cleaning. No one pays attention to a maid doing her job."

She sighed, exasperated. "That may be, but the admiral specifically requested complete silence during his training. We cannot risk disturbing him."

You huffed. "Well, then that doesn't make him a very good archer, does it? If he's truly the best, he should be able to shoot well anywhere. The battlefield isn't exactly a peaceful place, now is it?"

Her face paled at your audacity, and she frantically motioned for you to lower your voice. Then, as if realising she wouldn't win this argument, she reached for your washcloth. "Please, just this once, listen to me. Besides, you know very well you're not—"

Before she could finish, you pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. "I've been good all week, haven't I? I did everything you asked—no complaints. Just let me stay here for a bit and enjoy the view, yeah? You can have my meal again tonight," you added with a wink.

She shook her head, already resigned to her fate, too tired to argue or remind you that everything you had done over the past week was merely your duty. "Fine. But promise me you won't distract the admiral, and make sure you return to your quarters before—"

"I will, I will," you interrupted, beaming. "And I promise, you won't get in trouble because of me!"

You clapped soundlessly in victory as she handed your washcloth back, shaking her head in disbelief before walking away. But not before shooting you one last pleading look, silently begging you not to cause any more trouble. You only grinned in response, sticking your tongue out playfully and waving goodbye before returning to your so-called task—wiping down an already spotless door. A door that, conveniently, gave you the perfect view of the admiral, deep in focus as he trained.

A small sigh of awe slipped past your lips, your earlier mischievous grin softening into a dreamy smile as you watched him. He checked his bow with practised ease before getting into position once more, gripping it firmly. You bit your lip, anticipation bubbling inside you—this was your favourite part. He raised his bow, holding an arrow in place, lifting it just high enough to aim. Then, with calculated precision, he closed one eye to focus on his target.

Damn.

This pose—this was the one that always left you weak in the knees. Just when you thought he couldn't possibly be any more attractive, he went ahead and proved you wrong. Every. Single. Time.

Despite his fearsome reputation on the battlefield, Admiral Kang was, at heart, a little... adorable. When he wasn't fighting wars, he always seemed lost in his own world, absentmindedly staring at whoever was speaking to him with that cute, dazed expression. He was a unique character, to say the least. And maybe that was why you loved seeing this side of him even more—the version of him that was serious, focused, and completely in his element.

It was just so freaking hot.

Until it… wasn't.

Your futile wiping came to an abrupt halt as you furrowed your brows, watching the unfamiliar scene unfold before you. For the first time in all the years you had known him, he let out a sharp curse, frustration flickering across his usually composed face. He reached for another arrow, aiming with a little more force than necessary. Your gaze darted to the target board—only to realise that he had missed the bullseye.

Your mouth fell open. He missed?

A tiny gasp escaped you because, quite frankly, that was unheard of. Admiral Kang never missed—not once since he had built his legendary reputation. It was practically the first rule of the universe: the sun rises, the rivers flow, and Kang Yeosang hits his mark every single time. Yet here he was, missing the target like some rookie foot soldier.

You bit your lip, suddenly concerned. Was he okay? Maybe today just wasn't his day. Maybe that's why he had insisted on training alone.

And then—thunk! Another miss.

Your concern quickly morphed into something else entirely as you took in the sight of him, all tense muscles and narrowed eyes, jaw clenched in frustration. Oh. Oh no. Why was this... hot?

You didn't think you'd ever witness the day Kang Yeosang would be this visibly mad—not at you, not at anyone, but at himself. And somehow, instead of feeling purely sympathetic, your brain short-circuited with an entirely inappropriate thought: angry Admiral Kang was stupidly attractive.

His brows knitted together as he grabbed yet another arrow, muttering a string of curses under his breath, his voice lower and rougher than usual. It was such a stark contrast from his usual soft, slightly dazed self that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Oh, this is dangerous.

You had to press a knuckle to your mouth to stifle the delighted squeal threatening to escape. Because good god, if this man got any hotter, you might just pass out right then and there.

"Goddamnit," Yeosang cursed under his breath, his eyebrow twitching as his fourth shot missed its mark.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to quell the frustration bubbling inside him. He couldn't believe he was letting this affect him. He wasn't a fool. He was the youngest admiral in Joseon, after all—he had noticed your presence the second you stepped foot inside.

But he hadn't said anything.

At first, he assumed it was just some clueless new maid who had wandered in, unaware of the rules. He was ready to ignore it altogether. But then—he heard your voice. His sharp hearing picked up on your hushed negotiation with a senior maid, who was desperately trying to shoo you away. His pulse quickened.

It was you.

And like a complete idiot, instead of brushing it off, he found himself wanting to impress you. That's where he had gone wrong. His focus had wavered, and now, for the first time in his career, his shots were landing anywhere but the bullseye.

Who knew a single woman could have such an effect on him?

Annoyed—mostly at himself but also at you for making him embarrass himself like this—he finally cleared his throat, loud enough for you to hear.

"Just how long do you plan on hiding there?" he called out, finally turning toward your direction.

He had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing at your absolutely pathetic attempt at concealment. Pressed flat against the paper door like it would somehow make you invisible, your familiar silhouette was outlined perfectly against the thin material—especially with the sunlight streaming in from behind.

He sighed, setting down his bow and taking a step closer. "I knew you were there the moment you walked in. Show yourself."

Crap. Crap. Crap.

You thought you had been sneaky, but apparently not. If he had known you were here all along, that meant trouble—because you were supposed to be elsewhere. And, worse, he knew that because you weren't just any ordinary maid.

Your only hope now? Act like one.

With your head lowered, you stepped forward hesitantly, bowing respectfully. "A-apologies, my lord. I was only here to clean. I know you asked to be left alone today, and I shouldn't have lingered," you murmured, voice small. "I'll leave at once."

You turned on your heel, ready to flee, but his voice stopped you cold.

"Hold on a second."

Your heart slammed against your ribs. Oh, no. You had promised the senior maid you wouldn't cause trouble, and now you were on the verge of dragging her into this mess.

"If you knew I asked for privacy," he mused, his voice deep and steady, "why did you come here in the first place?"

You gulped, fingers tightening around the washcloth in your hands. This was not how today was supposed to go. You had planned to admire him for a while, soak in the view, and then sneak back to your actual post. Not get caught red-handed.

"Answer me," he pressed.

Your breath hitched. His voice was much closer this time.

Too close.

"I-I was wrong, my lord," you stammered.

He sighed. "That's not what I want to hear. Because of you, I lost my focus. Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth."

Slowly, you turned—only to find him standing right behind you. There was no escaping now. No more excuses. It was time to own up to your mistake.

"I… I just—" you blurted before throwing your hands up in defeat. "I missed you, okay?! I wanted to see your stupid face before going back to my boring duties. Is that a crime?"

Silence.

Then, Yeosang smiled. "See? Now, was that so difficult?" he teased, leaning down slightly to meet your pouting face.

"You knew it was me all along?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He nodded.

"How?"

He smirked, fingers tilting your chin up until your eyes met his. "How could I not? You're far too beautiful to be just a maid, my lady."

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you huffed, swatting his hand away. "Ugh, I really thought I had you fooled."

His grin widened. "So, does this mean you finally admit you missed me? What happened to 'I don't want to see your dumb face again'?"

Your jaw dropped. "You did not just bring that up."

"Oh, but I did." He leaned in, voice dripping with amusement. "Verbatim."

Scoffing in disbelief, you pushed at his chest—though, of course, he barely budged. "You're impossible."

Turning away with a dramatic hmph, you muttered, "Go ahead, tell your mother I sneaked out. I'll take whatever punishment she has for me, as usual. Not like you'd ever stand up for me in front of her."

Before you could take another step away from him, Yeosang moved swiftly, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His voice was softer now, warm against your ear.

"I'm sorry, my love." His embrace tightened slightly. "You know how she is when it comes to the duties of a daughter-in-law. I wish I could do something, but as the admiral's wife, you have to set an example for the people. I know those lessons bore you to death, but she's only here for the Lunar New Year. Just hang in there for a little longer, yeah?"

You sighed, finally allowing yourself to melt into his warm embrace—the very one you had gone without for nearly a week.

You had been giving him the silent treatment ever since he failed to defend you when his mother insisted you attend etiquette lessons for the entirety of the Lunar New Year. You had protested, of course—this was supposed to be the one time of the year when your husband was free from his duties, a rare chance for the two of you to be together. But instead, she had taken that precious time away, forcing you into lessons you had little patience for.

Deep down, you understood her reasoning, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. You had been looking forward to this time for weeks, only to have it stolen from you. And so, out of pure stubbornness, you had refused to attend the lessons diligently. Your frustration had driven you to banish Yeosang from your shared quarters in the heat of the moment—a decision you regretted almost immediately. Sleeping in an empty bed had been unbearable, but your pride had been too strong to call him back from the guest chambers.

So, today, desperate for an escape from yet another dreary lesson, you had feigned illness and slipped away. If your mother-in-law discovered your empty room, there would be consequences—not just for you, but for the poor maid who had dared to help you.

The admiral sighed against your hair, his arms tightening around you as if afraid you'd slip away again. Then, with gentle insistence, he turned you in his embrace, his warm hands cupping your cheeks. His thumbs brushed over your skin, wiping away the traces of your lingering pout.

"You're so stubborn," he murmured, his tone laced with fondness. "But I suppose that's part of why I love you."

Your heart skipped a beat. His gaze, steady and filled with an emotion so tender it made your breath hitch, held yours captive.

"I missed you too, you know," he admitted at last, exhaling as if finally releasing a weight from his chest. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to sleep without you? To wake up every morning and not see your annoying little grin first thing?" His lips quirked up slightly, but there was sincerity in his words.

You blinked up at your husband, guilt slowly creeping in.

"I know I should've defended you more," he continued, his voice softer now. "But it's not that simple, my love. I already defied my mother once when I chose you—when I turned my back on the noblewoman she wanted for me. I chose you because you are everything I ever wanted. You're bright, bubbly, and full of life. You make even the dullest moments feel exciting. And though she may not understand it now… you are the best decision I have ever made."

Your breath caught in your throat.

He let out a quiet sigh, his thumbs still tracing circles against your skin. "I just… I only want the two most important women in my life to get along. That's all I've ever wanted. I know it's not easy for you, and I know she can be difficult, but if you could just try… even a little, it would make things easier. For both of us."

Your chest tightened. You had been so caught up in your own frustration that you hadn't once stopped to consider how hard this must have been for him too. Balancing the expectations of a mother he respected and the love of his life—how exhausting that must have been.

Your gaze softened, and you lifted your hands to rest over his. "I… I didn't think about it that way," you admitted, cheeks warming. "I was so focused on my own feelings that I didn't realise how hard this must be for you too."

He said nothing, only watching you with patient eyes as you let the realisation settle.

You sighed, leaning into his touch. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "I promise… I'll try to be better from now on."

At that, his entire face brightened, relief flooding his features as he pulled you in closer. "Really?"

You gave a small nod, lips curving into a sheepish smile. "Really." Then, with a playful glint in your eyes, you added, "I promise I won't be sneaking off to give you surprise visits like I did today again, Admiral Kang."

His jaw dropped slightly, and you could practically see the flicker of realisation in his expression. You had him. As disciplined and upright as he usually was, even he couldn't deny that your little intrusion today had made things far more exciting. Damn the impropriety of it all—he loved you for that.

"Oh, you little minx," he muttered, shaking his head in faux exasperation before a smirk tugged at his lips. A breathless chuckle escaped him as he dipped down, capturing your lips in a soft yet lingering kiss. His warmth seeped into you, his touch grounding you in the moment. He kissed you as if he had been waiting for this forever, as if every second apart had been an eternity.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his grin utterly boyish. "Does this mean I can move back into our quarters now?"

You huffed, pretending to think it over, watching as he waited—far too eagerly—for your answer. His hands remained on your waist, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your sides, as if afraid you might slip away again.

Finally, you sighed dramatically. "Fine. But only because I missed you too."

His laughter rang through the air, light and full of joy, before he swooped in to kiss you again, sealing your truce with all the love he had to give.

When he pulled away, neither of you moved for a moment, eyes closed as he pressed his forehead against yours again. He simply breathed—cherishing the warmth of your presence after a week apart.

He knew you had been upset, not just about the lessons but because he hadn't sided with you when you protested. But what could he have done? He was caught between the two most important women in his life—his mother, the woman who raised him, and you, the woman he vowed to cherish. It was never a choice he wanted to make, so he had remained neutral, though it had pained him to see the disappointment in your eyes.

Still, that was why he had spoken to his mother later, asking her to go easier on you. You might not have noticed, but she had—she never truly reprimanded you for your inconsistent attendance, and Yeosang had never made a fuss when you kicked him out of your shared quarters, knowing you needed space. No matter how much it killed him to be away from you, he respected your emotions.

But now, feeling the way you held onto him just as tightly as he held onto you, he was glad. Glad that you were willing to meet him in the middle. That was one of the many reasons he loved you so much.

He could still remember the look of surprise on his mother's face when he had, for the first time, broken out of his usual quiet and composed demeanour—other than the time he had first brought you home, announcing with unwavering conviction that you were the love of his life and the only woman he would marry.

It had shocked her then. And it had shocked her again when he spoke up for you, telling her how much you meant to him and how he wished for the woman who raised him to care for his wife the same way she had always cared for him.

And surprisingly, she had understood.

Truthfully, his mother had never truly been against you. At first, she had been wary—sceptical of how well a woman as lively and outspoken as you would fit into their composed and traditional household. But over time, she began to understand why her son had chosen you.

You were bright—perhaps a little too much at times—but she had come to admire your honesty. She never had to worry about a two-faced daughter-in-law who smiled sweetly in front of her but harboured resentment behind her back. You were genuine—straightforward with your emotions, never afraid to show your displeasure or your affection. And above all, the love you and Yeosang shared was undeniable. At the end of the day, that was what mattered to her most. That her son was happy.

And as the admiral held you now, he knew that happiness was right here, in his arms.

"So, tell me," Yeosang murmured, tilting his head as he gazed into your eyes, the ones he adored so much. "How exactly did you manage to slip out of your lesson today?"

You bit your lip, knowing there was no use lying when he was already staring at you so intently. With a sheepish grin, you admitted, "I told her it's that time of the month and that the pain was too unbearable to continue."

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he reached out to squish your cheeks. "And yet here you are, sneaking around in a maid's uniform just to watch your incredibly handsome husband practice. You must've been desperate for me, hm?"

You scoffed, prying his hands off your face only to squish his cheeks in return. "That's right, admiral. I came all this way just to see you fail miserably at hitting a bullseye over and over again. All because your wife was watching."

His jaw dropped in exaggerated offence as he gasped. "You wound me, my love," he declared dramatically before bending down to retrieve his bow. Then, with a smirk, he held it out to you. "If you're so clever, Lady Kang, why don't you show me how it's done?"

"Gladly," you shot back, grabbing the bow with confidence—only for your bravado to falter the moment you realised just how heavy it was. Your arms wobbled slightly under the unexpected weight, but you cleared your throat, pretending as if nothing had happened.

Your husband noticed. Of course, he did. But to his credit, he bit back his laughter, unwilling to embarrass you further. Instead, he simply watched, eyes gleaming with fondness. If only you knew how much his heart swelled with pride and affection at this moment—seeing you attempt something he had always wanted to teach you. He had dreamed of this for so long, hoping to pass on at least the basics of archery, if only as a means of self-defence. But the opportunity had never come—until now.

Clumsily, you reached for an arrow, fumbling slightly as you held it up. He softened, stepping behind you in an instant. His arms slid around you, one hand lifting the bow's weight with ease, the other steadying your trembling grip as he helped you pull the arrow back.

You glanced up at him, feeling the warmth of his breath near your ear, the solid comfort of his presence surrounding you completely. You had never felt safer. It was moments like these that reminded you just how much pride you had in being his wife. That even after everything, you still found it hard to believe that this man—this strong, kind, and loving man—was truly yours.

"Now focus and aim," he murmured. "We'll release when you're ready."

Nodding, you focused on the target, narrowing your eyes as you slowly closed one to improve your precision. You adjusted the bow slightly, remembering one of the things he had always told you—aim a little higher than your target, especially at longer distances, because gravity will always pull the arrow down.

"Ready," you whispered.

And then, together, you released. The arrow soared through the air, cutting cleanly through the space between you and the target. And for the first time that day, an arrow struck the bullseye.

We did it!

You blinked in disbelief, your eyes locked on the arrow firmly lodged in the bullseye. Slowly, you turned to your husband, who stood beside you, mouth slightly agape.

"Did you see that?" you gasped, your excitement bubbling over.

Yeosang let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. "I must be dreaming. My wife, an archery prodigy?"

Grinning, you nudged him playfully. "Maybe I should take your place as admiral instead."

He clutched his chest dramatically. "Stealing my title already? You truly are ruthless, my love."

Before you could react, he suddenly scooped you up into his arms with ease, making you yelp in surprise. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Yeosang! Put me down!" you giggled, squirming in his grasp.

"No can do," he hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You impressed me today, so you deserve a reward. And since you did lie your way out of lessons just to see me…" He trailed off, a mischievous and suggestive glint in his eyes.

Your brows furrowed in suspicion. "Yeo, what are you planning—"

Before you could finish, he started making his way toward the exit. But just as he reached the doorway, he stopped abruptly. Because standing right there, about to step in, was his mother.

You gasped, tightening your hold around your husband's neck as he froze in place. "M-Mother…" he stammered.

Old Madame Kang's gaze flickered over the scene before her—her daughter-in-law, who had earlier complained of agonising menstrual pain, now dressed in a maid's uniform, being cradled in her son's arms. She blinked. You swore you saw her eye twitch.

"I-I can explain," you started, and Yeosang quickly set you down, clearing his throat and smoothing down your ruffled hair and hanbok as if that would somehow make things better.

His mother levelled you both with a withering stare. "Please do."

You gulped, exchanging a nervous glance with him, both of you shrinking under her sharp gaze like children caught red-handed.

"She just missed me, Mother," Yeosang admitted, gripping your hand firmly. "She didn't know how else to say it, so she… snuck out to see me."

A beat of silence passed.

Then, to your utter shock, the elderly woman rolled her eyes. "Is that it?" she huffed, exasperated.

You both blinked. That was… oddly forgiving?

She crossed her arms. "You couldn't have just told me? Why go through the trouble of sneaking out and dressing like a maid just to see your own husband?" Her expression softened, though her tone remained firm. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? I brought you herbs, only to find your quarters empty. I came here to inform my son that you'd vanished, and instead, I find the two of you making fools of yourselves…"

Your eyes darted to Yeosang, who looked just as stunned as you felt. Was this really happening?

"…I swear, you two are impossible," she muttered, shaking her head. Then, as if realising just how ridiculous the situation had become, she pinched the bridge of her nose, suppressing what you swore was a reluctant smile. "So, I take it there was never a real period?" she asked, arching a brow.

You swallowed, nodding slowly, unsure where this was going.

She observed you both for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a small shake of her head, she finally spoke. "I'll forgive you on one condition." You perked up, hopeful—until she continued, "Give me grandchildren soon."

Your husband choked on air. You stiffened, eyes widening in sheer horror as heat flooded your face.

Meanwhile, your mother-in-law remained entirely unbothered, watching your reactions with the calm of someone who had just commented on the weather. "Well, now that I know you're perfectly healthy, I'll be on my way. See you at your next lesson."

And with that, she turned and strode off, leaving you both rooted in place, still processing the absolute chaos she had just unleashed.

The moment she disappeared down the corridor, you exhaled a breath you hadn't even realised you were holding.

Yeosang cleared his throat, glancing at you with a look that was equal parts mischievous and smug. With exaggerated flair, he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a playful kiss to your knuckles.

"Well, you heard her loud and clear, my love," he murmured, his voice rich with amusement. "Shall we begin fulfilling our noble duty right away?"

Your eyes widened in mortification. "Kang Yeosang!" you hissed, smacking his arm harder as your face burned. "She can still hear us!"

And sure enough, a quiet chuckle echoed from down the hall.

Your husband only laughed, unfazed, before intertwining his fingers with yours and gently tugging you forward. "It's fine, my love," he teased. "She understands."

Hand in hand, the two of you strolled back to your chambers, his warmth a steady comfort beside you. His lighthearted humming filled the air, and when he stole a fond glance at you, a smile tugged at his lips.

The admiral had never imagined he could feel anything but frustration over a missed shot—but as he reflected on everything that had unfolded, he realised that if losing his aim led to moments like these, perhaps a little imperfection wasn't so bad after all.

No bc I just love how I started this with a vision and somewhere along the way, I didn't know how to end it so I just kinda winged it lmaooo hope this was decent HAHA

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Legolas and Aragorn discovering that you have hidden a dragon…

The forest was meant to be empty. You had been sure of that when you snuck away from Rivendell. You walked the memorised pathway through tall trees until you reached your secret - a large, fire-breathing secret.

It was a happy greeting now that the large winged creature had warmed to your presence... that is, until you heard a sharp inhale of breath and whipped around to see the wide-eyes of Legolas.

He had seen too much and so, without thinking, you grabbed the Woodland prince and slammed him against a tree trunk quickly. Concealing the two of you before Legolas cried out in surprise and startled the fire-breathing beast in your care.

“If you breathe a word of this to Lord Elrond, I will snap your bow.” You warned. An empty threat but but you had almost broken the strings on his weapon once before.

Pressing a finger into his chest, you caught the way his eyes travelled to the winged-creature with curiosity. It was astonishing that you managed to hide a magnificent beast under the nose of all elves.

But nonetheless, you couldn’t keep the secret for much longer. You sensed his dilemma and realised that the first person he’d go to would be his best friend.

Moving the finger to his face, you frowned sternly. “And you cannot tell Aragorn.”

Another set of footsteps sounded. “Tell me what?”

You had been so fixated on the elf that you did not realise that Aragorn had followed his friends. “You need to learn to cover your tracks for secret meetings and-”

His words fell flat when his blue eyes darted to the white dragon moving to sit up at the newest voice. It lazily stretched its wings, snapping a few frail branches in the process.

“That is - is that a...?”

Pushing away from Legolas, you addressed your friend and future king.

“Yes. It is a dragon.” You answered for him but Aragorn stared in awe and stepped closer.

“A true and tame dragon. This is remarkable.”

Legolas’ eyes blew wide and he frowned. “Do not encourage this behaviour. There is a large beast in the forest of Rivendell and when Lord Elrond discovers this secret, we will seem to have aided in this foolishness.”

You frowned at the elf. “This was not foolish. Would you rather I have left the poor creature to fend for itself and hope that Sauron’s forces did not find it? The Nazgûl already have their beasts. Now, so do we.”

Ever the voice of reason, Aragorn stepped forward. “Be that as it may, we really should tell Elrond about this.”

“Absolutely not. This was my secret until the two of you decided to walk just a bit further. There will be no disclosing of this to anyone. Not Gandalf, not Arwen, and certainly not Elrond. Am I clear?”

The man and woodland prince glanced at one another quite unsure with this plan. But with some reluctance, they chose to keep your secret for some time longer.

~~~

Gandalf picked up his cup of tea and chuckled at Elrond’s latest tale about adventures with Galadriel in their youth. The wizard looked out toward the forest and sighed.

“We ought to do something about that dragon. It is taking all my resources to keep that creature hidden.” Elrond said as he refilled his cup.

“Perhaps.” Gandalf began. “However, I am very curious to see how long this secret can be kept before they request for help.”

~ More imagines here ~