#its effectively a lullaby for me

[gaycompilation]

literally give the kid his pick of picks and give him all his stripes and ribbons but now he's sitting in his hole he might as well have buttons and bows

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

By the very scientific method of "flip a coin", it was ultimately decided that today would be another Splinter Cell follow-up

Sig strode through the makeshift mess hall in the weapons factory with a confidence that drew eyes to him immediately. He swung himself up onto a chair and placed two fingers in his mouth to shatter the quiet with a piercing whistle. Instantly, he had everyone's attention.

"Listen up, rebels!" Sig barked, "There's been a change in operations! Jak’s just secured the backing of the Wastelander nation in this war."

A foreign ally? The motley gathering began to whisper amongst themselves. The majority had never even heard of Wastelanders having an entire nation. But they did know that Wastelanders had a reputation for finding rare treasures and selling them to the highest bidder. Having them fund the war against Praxis could either spell victory or trouble, depending on what they wanted in return.

"What's this gang-"

"Nation," Sig corrected.

"Yeah, that. What's their angle?" A woman named Kloe demanded.

Sig's eye glinted dangerously. "Payback. Praxis thought he could kidnap Wasteland kids and let the Marauders take the fall for it."

He slammed a fist into his palm.

"They're gonna help you shape up into a real fighting force. We Wastelanders will take point in any heavy firefights and strategic planning. You'll be crucial for intel and evacuation routes. We work together, maybe we'll bring down the Baron before he gets half the city killed with his stupidity."

Bran, a barrel-chested tailor, folded his thick arms and scowled. "And what happens when the war is over, eh? These Wastelanders planning to leave peacefully?"

"Fair enough," a youngster agreed from across the table. "That's how we ended up with Praxis in the first place, right? How do we know these people don't want to take over?"

From the side of the room, a new voice scoffed, "Oh you need not worry. I have no desire to rule this city again."

A grizzled man sat in the corner, arms folded across his chest. Half in shadow, he observed them all with keen eyes. On the scaffold above him, others in the garb of Wastelanders stood, feigning disinterest. Jak, Daxter, and Tess leaned against the railing, watching the man below with curiosity.

"I may not respect the choices you've all made in my absence, but I'll respect your rejection of the House of Mar."

He raised one brow.

"Personally, I disagree with the notion that a bloodline is what gives someone the right to rule."

Damas leaned back and let his eyes wander over the twenty or thirty individuals at the fold-out tables. The younger rebels seemed confused by his appearance. Those closer to his own age sat frozen, shock coloring their faces. They remembered him. They recognized him, even after 16 years of change. It was gratifying, in a way.

"If you mean to ask whether there is a "catch" to my aid, I will not lie to you," he said. "We are not helping you for free. But when the Baron’s head has been freed from his shoulders, you will all do with the city as you see fit, and we will return home."

One of the older members of Daxter's "Fight United" division stood up. Her eyes weren't what they used to be, but she could still operate a Titan Suit with deadly efficiency. Now she squinted across the tables to the corner.

"It really is you, isn't it?" she asked, "King Damas? Most of us were afraid Praxis had murdered you in secret."

"He would have," Damas answered bluntly, "but the Precursors have always taken a bizarre and not entirely welcome interest in the fate of my House, to the point of several Council members deeming it blasphemy to kill an Heir of Mar before the Precursors can do something absolutely ridiculous to them."

Above him, Jak choked on a laugh and hastily pulled away from the rail to hide his smirk. He knew there were enough devotees of the Precursors in the Factory Cell that laughing could step on some toes. Normally, that wouldn't have mattered to him. But since most of the devout were in Daxter's Titan Suit squad, he didn't want to make his best friend's life any harder than necessary.

Kloe leaned out from her seat, as little less confident now that she knew the leader of this foreign ally was the lost king of her own city. Among her generation, there were still a lot of mixed feelings about his reign. Most agreed that he'd been a failure as a leader during the Metalhead War, but sixteen years had softened blame into an acknowledgment that he'd come to the throne a boy, forced into manhood too soon. To throw the weight of an entire city of innocents onto such young shoulders without offering a hand in support had led to catastrophe. He hadn't been ready to rule, but after seeing the alternative, the older generation didn't blame him anymore.

"King- King Damas." Kloe swallowed her nerves. "You didn't answer my question. What's your angle? Can't just be payback, or you'd probably have assassinated Praxis by now. What is it you want from us?"

Damas didn’t take his eyes off the gathered crowd. He pointed upward, right to where Jak stood with Tess above them.

"Him," he answered bluntly. "I'm taking Jak."

The room burst into an uproar.

"You can't just "take" Jak! He's our best fighter!"

"Jak?! Why the heck would you want him?!"

"King or no king, we don't trade kids for favors!"

"What do you even want him for?"

"Dude, that's a bad idea! Have you seen what that guy is like?!"

"Sig, you're not letting him take our tank, right?"

Sig cut through the protests with another sharp whistle.

"Everybody zip it!" he shouted.

When the room had quieted, he stepped down from the chair and walked between the tables.

"I understand your concern. Nice to see y'all showing more concern for Jak than some cells. But let me remind you that, like a couple others of you here, Jak’s a kid. Not a soldier. When this whole mess is done, you rugrats deserve the chance to go where you want. See the world. Don't you think?"

Some of the younger members exchanged glances. Well. That was different, wasn't it?

Jinx ground his unlit cigar into the tabletop. "Bull. Prettyboy, you ain't cut out for the wastes, believe me. You really gonna go with them when this is all over?"

The boy looked away.

"Yes."

"Jak?" A round-faced teen from the Scout Flies division frowned up at him. "Are you...are you really okay with this?"

Jak was quiet for a moment, like he wasn't sure what to say. Then he raised his eyes, and with an almost guilty expression, he croaked,

"Yes."

"Jak, you can't-"

"Yes I can!"

The sharpness in his words caught them all off guard, himself included. He winced slightly.

"Look- I can take care of myself, okay? It's fine. We get the numbers and firepower to take down Praxis, they get me, and I get to go as far away from the Baron's labs as possible. Everybody wins."

It seemed selfish to tell them that he had always planned to leave once the Baron was dead. Not everyone in the Factory Cell liked him, or saw him as more than a walking weapon of mass destruction. But four weeks of operating as a splinter cell was enough to forge at least a sense of camaraderie. They were all wary of him, even the ones that liked him -- except for a couple senseless kids who looked up to him for some godforsaken reason -- but they depended on him. They had expectations of him, and knowing that he couldn't fulfill them turned Jak's stomach and tightened his chest.

He pushed off of the rail and swallowed.

"I'll um. I'll see you at the next briefing."

Phobos turned and followed him up the scaffolding, through a short antechamber covered in buttons and dials to what used to be a testing room. She wasn't wearing her wrap in her hair anymore: currently it was functioning as a sling to hold Mar on her back. Bored by the adults talking and talking and talking, Mar had fallen asleep until the shouting started. He blinked sleepily over his mother's shoulder at Jak, then dropped his head back down with a tired grumble.

"So you've decided for sure?"

Phobos frowned at Jak.

"I don't want you to feel that our help is dependent on you coming home with us."

Jak tilted his head. "Would you still help if I didn't?"

"We wouldn't wait for your cell to be ready." Phobos bounced Mar a little higher on her back and glanced back towards the hall.

"If this was the city you'd chosen to live in, Da- your- your father would already be on his way to kill Praxis without you, to make the city safe for you."

"Why?"

The boy spun on his heel and forced himself to look this Other Mother -- as if he'd even known one mother -- in the eye.

"You don't know me."

"Not yet, no. Is that a requirement for wanting you to be safe?" asked Phobos, with a hint of a wry smile.

Jak shut his mouth quickly. That was a hard question to answer. Usually, knowing him meant people started throwing him toward danger. Made sense that the strangers were the ones being protective if they just saw some random teenager playing soldier. Once they saw him in action, they'd change their tune.

"But Jak-" Phobos seemed to glide forward, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind Jak's ear. "Do you actually want to come to Spargus with us?"

He leaned into her touch the slightest bit, like a skittish crocadog. If Sig was right, Phobos realized, he was likely starved for affection. What kind of life had this Other Mar led? What, exactly, had the Baron done? The boy had mentioned laboratories. The very word made Phobos's blood curdle.

What have they done to you, child?

She eased closer.

Jak's eyes darted this way and that. He opened his mouth, but the words faltered on his tongue. After a few false starts, at last he gathered himself and looked up. His resolve broke the instant he glimpsed Mar's curls over Phobos's shoulder.

Mar was safe now. But what about him?

"I have to get out of this city," he whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. "I have- I have to- to see the sky again. The real sky."

The words spilled out despite his attempts to stop them.

"I'm not- I'm not going to leave Mar. Where he goes, I go. Please- please don't leave me here."

What a pathetic plea. Jak cringed internally. Two years -- two and a half, now -- he'd managed without ever begging for escape. Not from his captors, not from his abusers, not even from the Underground. But after the glimpse of the Wastes Sig had shown him, after the possibility of freedom had been dangled before him, how could Jak ever go back?

He couldn't quite interpret the emotion in Phobos's eyes. But she opened her arms and held her hands palm up, where he could see them. She made no moves towards him, instead asking, "Jak, may I?"

No one had ever asked him that before. He either got hugged, or he didn't. Usually, with the dark eco running under his skin, he didn't like hugs. He was wary of sudden movement, and even when it was telegraphed, the eco made his skin so much more sensitive than it would be otherwise. Which often made tight squeezes unbearable. But ever since Mar's father had used the light eco on him, things felt more...more settled. Restrained.

Did he want a hug?

He wasn't a baby, or some helpless victim. He was a monster. A survivor. An ex-hero.

....a kid.

Just a kid.

"I...uh, okay."

Jak grimaced and sternly told himself not to look desperate.

The embrace lasted for only a moment or two, but for those brief heartbeats Jak wondered at how safe he felt. Was this how Mar felt when he carried him around after nightmares? How Keira felt whenever Samos used to hug her when they were kids?

Jak had told himself often that he had plenty of human contact in the form of Daxter. But now he wondered if Tess was right about that "touch-starved" thing she was talking about the other week.

Phobos released him gently and stepped back to hoist Mar higher on her back again. Sympathy lined her eyes, but Jak didn't feel pitied. He felt seen.

Mar yawned and Phobos clicked her tongue and hummed quietly. Nine notes, rising and falling, only a snatch of a tune, but it was familiar to Jak.

Stay with me, the seas are dark and wild-

"Mar hums that, too," he said.

Phobos looked up. "He remembers?"

There was just a hint of a tremor in her voice, but her eyes lit up.

"Er...I think so. I don't think he knows the words though." Jak shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Well." Phobos bit the inside of her cheek and reached back to run her fingers through Mar's hair. "I didn't always sing the words to him."

A gage on the wall began to click rapidly, startling them both. Jak banged a fist against the panel and a jet of steam burst out from the seams.

Phobos jumped back and raised her eyebrows.

"Is it supposed to do that?"

The boy shrugged. "I dunno. But it stopped clicking, right?"

That earned him a snort. Phobos shook her head.

"Oh dear. You really are just like Damas, aren't you?"

Wary curiosity crept into Jak's eyes. "Am I?"

It was something he'd always wondered about. Did he get his eyes from a parent, or share their need to explore? Was he an outlier, a freak even as a child? Or would he have been enough like a parent for people to know who he was?

Did it even apply when those parents came from a completely different timeline?

"Ohhh yes." Phobos chuckled and tapped experimentally on the gage. "Your father has a lifetime ban from the mechanics' corner of the city garages."

"What did he do?" Jak breathed.

The slight awe in his voice and eyes suggested that he found the idea at least somewhat inspiring. That was...mildly concerning. But at the same time it was a little poignant. In the two days since their meeting, Jak had been holding back around the Spargans, like he was afraid to let them close. This was the first time the lonely boy had asked them a question. He sounded tentatively hopeful, like he was desperately looking for some kind of connection to make between them. Phobos could empathize with that.

"I'll tell you what," she said, glancing around conspiratorially, "Why don't you help me get Mar settled for a nap, and that way I can tell you the whole embarrassing story without Damas stopping me."

A shy, crooked smile peeked out from under the boy’s tough facade.

"Fine. You, uh, you want me to carry him?"

"No, that's alright. I'm...I'm not ready to let go yet. Thank you, though."

Phobos nudged his arm.

"Not that I doubt you could carry him easier than me. Huh. That friend of yours is as big as Mar and you just carry him around on your shoulder!"

She strolled out of the corridor with a mischievous look. "Let's pretend you got that from my side of the family, for the sake of my pride."

[anxiouslypretty5]

Combined like 3 methods and got results like instantly + some tips.

its not my first time getting in the void state so i’ll just tell you the methods i used

distraction technique

lullaby method

my own little method called the subway surfers method

you already know what to do with the distraction method since its made by @luckykiwiii101 the lullaby method was created by divineangelbee but her account has been deactivated for a LONGGG time but its on my page, i have a link to it (just go look at my page) and my subway surfers method is just me visualizing myself in subway surfers and instead of grabbing coins i would grab gift boxes that held all my desires and then after grabbing all the gifts of everything i wanted i would eventually run into a black void (aka the void state and then i would induce it)

but i’ll get to my desires i manifested TRUST just let me tell you how i combined these methods PUHLEASE?!

okay so we all know that the infamous distraction technique involves you having to be DISTRACTED right? and that the lullaby method slightly requires you to be in a sleepy state right..?????? RIGHT??? well all i simply did was get into a sleepy state which was like 20 minutes ago when i wanted to take a nap and i used the distraction technique and combined it with my subway surfers method. after vividly imagining myself in subway surfers and collecting all the gifts and stuff and running into my void thats when i felt my body float. because i would just imagine myself free falling after running into the void.

(i assumed for all of this to happen btw!!! and guess what it happened! *i say loudly for the people in the back who are insufferably dense*)

okayyy so whatever now i’ll get to what i manifested since you’re rushing me..

adriana lima and a jennie popularity effect (from blackpink)

the super cool reverse technique from life is strange

flowers blooming everywhere i walk + nature loving my presence

not being allergic to absolutely anything

my hair now reaching my knees

my life being similar to multiple shows (Tvd, when i fly towards you, alice in borderland) + guys i know it may sound a bit crazy but i added safety precautions before hand

better photographer

fluent in a few languages (italian, french, japanese, vietnamese, arabic and haitian)

better climate

being better at volleyball and badminton

MORREEEEE flexible (i do a bit of gymnastics and ballet)

knowing how to figure skate

and i manifested like a trillion other things but i DONTTT have time to type that all since im gonna go back to sleep and you’re probably wondering “who goes back to sleep after manifesting so much stuff?” me. because manifesting is like a fling to me + i embrace lazy manifesting so every time i manifest something i don’t shoot glitter out of my eyes. i give myself a little applaud and go on with my day.

bye now. also heres your tips since i know my dms will be flooded again in 3 minutes…

[lucysarah-c]

Transactional

Summary: When you go to ask Captain Levi for a promotion, it's important to remain humble. Author note: I've had this idea for so long... this had been collecting dust in my computer for SO LONG. Because I wanted it to be hot and dirty like the underground's air but at the same time I was scared that it was a "bit" too much. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Top Levi Ackerman, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, MP reader, Levi x MP reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Cigarrettes, Smoking, Alcohol, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Oral sex, DUBCON, Bondage, Breathplay. Word count: 12k words of pure porn. You had been warned lmao HONESTLY, JUST BECAUSE I MANAGED TO EDIT this long ass post in the tumblr editor I DESERVE A LIKE AND A REBLOG (jk... but if you want its not a joke)

The agonizing rubatosis, mixed with the upsetting silence, creates a disconcerting atmosphere. Frowned eyebrows, eyes closed, cold feet rubbing over each other, and itchy underwear contribute to the discomfort. A deep breath in, count to 4, hold it for 7, and exhale slowly, counting to 8. Fists tighten, jaw clenches, and breathing becomes agitated.

‘Should I?’

Shea butter and vanilla penetrate her senses, smoothing legs that perfectly align, having been meticulously shaved. Not a single rough patch of skin, not a single hair, not a single cell left unmoistened. The hair conditioner matched the body lotion, nails painted a deep shade of red. Lips glide smoothly over each other thanks to the reddish gloss, creating a subtle plumping effect. The darkness enveloped her; hair spread on the pillow, eyelashes curved and painted a deep shade of black, with mascara perfectly in place. Blushed cheeks, radiant skin, softly glittering eyes, enhanced with brown pencil. Self-performed surgeon work, like an architect drawing up plans.

Reflective, slightly darker lips create the illusion of being kissed. Rosy cheeks mimic arousal. Uncomfortable underwear, but a perfect frame for her body. Subtly enhanced eyes for a pleasing view from the top. Everything is calculated, makeup that doesn’t look like makeup, intentionally tousled hair. She couldn’t recall the last time she put this much effort into her appearance for someone else. Usually, she dressed up for herself or her friends. A guy? Never, as far as she could remember.

All the to-do list’s lines had been checked except for one. The last item on her mental list was ‘Do you dare?’

Did she, though? Did she dare to slide her bare, smooth legs across the sheets, touch the cold floor, sneak through the corridors, slip inside through the creaked door, wait in the gloom with only one candle at the kitchen during late hours, hoping the collected info was real, and perhaps, only perhaps, see him appear through the door?

The place was ridiculously silent; she could hear her own feet against each other, her nervous tapping nails. Scouts followed rules, always doing what they were told, unlike the MPs. Even in the deep of night, you could hear everything—people making deals, cadets sneaking out, higher-ups taking cadets for personal parties. It was as if, the moment curfew started, another world began. Mixing that with the streets of the capital that never slept, the constant babble in the background. However, that wasn’t the scouts’ reality, and maybe that’s why she hated sleeping there so much. Somehow, she had gotten used to the sleepwalker city, and its ceaseless mutter became her lullaby.

After the retake of Wall Maria, after the coronation of the new queen Historia, life inside the walls changed drastically, especially in the military. New uniforms, universally appreciated in black, and the roles within the military became more ambiguous. MPs were still MPs, but they also contributed to the advances of new constructions, the displacement of new citizens to the reclaimed lands, and everyone learned how to use the new anti-person 3DMG.

Life was improving, or so many decided to believe. The scouts, almost eradicated after they took Wall Maria, saw an increase in their ranks. Transfers happened more than ever, and their salaries went from being the worst to the personal favourite military brand of the queen. Promotions were granted based on performance, sacrifice, and meritocracy—a notion she found irritatingly noble. Out of pettiness, boredom, or perhaps jealousy.

Extra-curricular activities? Even before she graduated from the trainee lines, she was in the top ten of her class, with excellent behaviour and military antecedents. Reports from citizens praised her attention and willingness to help. Double-checking almost everything. Therefore, explain why she had been rejected for a promotion so many times in the last years. The simple answer: anything in the MPs was about contacts and money, even as life inside the walls changed.

There was always an excuse—someone else deserved it better, a son of someone else got a spot that was rightfully hers, a green cadet got it simply because he was a man, and she clearly wasn’t. She wouldn’t lie and say that her desire to join the scouts had always been there. As a single daughter of a single mother, her wishes had always been to provide for her, to help her around. The day she could make her old mother stop working with her MP’s salary had been her happiest day.

Discussing it with her friend as they delivered provisions to the lines working on the train’s rails, not seeking help, but rather complaining in confidentiality. Concentrated so deeply in her venting that she didn’t notice how her friend remained quiet for a split second and then interrupted her with a cheerful smirk.

“Captain Levi just checked your ass.”

It caught her off guard, involuntarily making her want to check. “DON’T TURN!” her friend almost screamed. The idea felt bizarre, not because she wasn’t confident in her looks—she was hot as hell, and nobody could tell her otherwise. But… Captain Levi? From the Special Operation Squad? THE Captain Levi who had led the Uprising? Humanity’s Strongest Soldier? … That Captain Levi? Then, she gave it a second thought, slightly shaking her head.

“You must have imagined it,” she said.

“I SWEAR, you bent, and he checked you,”

“But… Captain Levi is?”

“Short?”

“No, you idiot. I mean yes, but not what I’m trying to say,” she corrected herself. “He just… I’ve never even heard about him with any girl, anyone to be more precise.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” her friend said, grabbing a box and starting to walk away, “but I know what I saw.”

Superiors and higher ranks checking her out, catcalling, perhaps even touching without permission? UFF, the military was full of them, even when she was much younger. However, Captain Levi could be an antisocial, stoic little jerk, but it had never struck her as those types of men. Always so uptight, correct, stoic, disinterested. There was a rumour circulating that perhaps… and only perhaps, he wasn’t particularly fond of women. A few female soldiers had tried to show their interest during military hangouts, and none of them had been successful. Considering military men’s pent-up frustration, that was very odd behaviour.

If there’s a rumour that spreads faster than what happens in someone’s sheets, it’s the lack of activity in those sheets. Captain Levi seemed to be on the other spectrum of the rumours. He definitely wasn’t a womanizer, and if he was one, what a smooth criminal he was. Not a single victim had been known.

“You know what would give you that promotion?” The administrative higher-up enlightened her after another unsuccessful raise in her salary. Her resentful eyes admired the boy, easily seven years younger than her, getting a spot because his father was a military member too. Her tired stare moved slowly back to her front, silently waiting for the pointless information to be given to her. A better cover letter? CV? Extra hours? Non-paid internships in other divisions? What?

“A recommendation from someone important.”

The red lips of the administrative staff moved slowly. If Y/N squinted a bit, she would have been able to hear the indirect suggestion. Between women, softly getting closer so the secretary could whisper without being heard. Glasses pushed down the nose bridge, and Y/N drew closer to hear the secret.

“You know, the scouts are making a big impact around here lately. Think about it.”

The words accumulate on her throat; her lips trembled, but nothing aside from indecipherable sounds left her mouth, frowning slightly at the idea.

“Think about it,” the woman repeated. “You won’t be the first girl, dear, and I guarantee you won’t be the last one.”

The wisdom that came with age and serving the military's paperwork for so many years must have given the woman enough knowledge to suggest it so plainly. What she hated the most? She had been considering it badly; she needed the money; she wanted the promotion. What was the difference between some stupid daddy's boy licking the boots of his higher-up for the position than this?

The boldest side of her mind insisted that she had slept with ex-boyfriends who were less attractive, less influential, and definitely less clean than Captain Levi. Yes, Captain Levi, because if she was doing this, she was going big or going home. Not some random newly promoted squad leader or anything. Those were the other options at the scout after they got almost eradicated—purely freshly adults. Her mind tried to convince herself of an easier target, like Jean perhaps, but she gagged at the idea. ‘He’s a baby, barely 18.’

For a split second, she wished Commander Erwin was alive. Never met him; she hadn’t even talked to him, but the blond seemed like an easier target somehow. Was it because people had talked about a chick or two that he took to his hotel’s room after parties? Maybe.

‘What’s the worst thing that could happen?’ pondering around the idea, like a friend encouraging you to confess to the boy you have a crush on. “You already got the no, go for the yes!” they would say, but this wasn’t silly girlish crushes.

‘That he says no and thinks of you as some cheap-ass whore.’

No, this wasn’t a crush. It was plain transactional.

‘Well… not like Captain Levi had ever looked over to me as if he had me in any sort of high esteem to begin with.’

Back to the beginning. They had ordered her to help around the Scout’s facilities as they developed the new train station around Paradise, and as soon as those orders had reached her ears, the plan was rolling. ‘Now… or never.’

Battle dress on: short loose shorts, a loose shirt that barely covered her belly, and her fanciest lingerie underneath. Captain Levi always made himself a cup of tea late at night to carry on with paperwork. Her military’s trajectory to secure the objective was: leave her bed, go there, and hope that her glossy lips and glittery eyes would do the trick. This was far from what she was used to, and what had boosted her confidence earlier that day to get ready had easily dripped away. Leaving her tied up to her bed as an external force that incapacitated her from doing it.

‘He’s not your higher-up; he can’t fire you directly.’

‘But what if he does?’

‘He’s probably small and will last a couple of minutes with luck; it’s easy as cake.’

‘What if he tells someone?’

‘You got nothing to lose and a lot to win.’

‘Everybody does something to scale in the MPs; no amount of extra work and good behaviours would get you anywhere. Think about what you could buy with that promotion.’

Tiptoes on the ground, a deep sigh, hands on the edge of the mattress pushing her up, calculated steps on the wood planks that didn’t squeak, palm against the edge of the door to close it without making a sound, single candle in her grip waiting for her to reach the kitchen to turn it on, non-existing hairs raising on her legs due to the coldness of the halls, curious eyes checking over her shoulder as she reached the kitchen, candle on, kettle on the fire, speech ready.

‘Now… are you going to show up, Captain?’

The flame of the candle flickered in the night air. She had heated the water multiple times, taking the kettle off the stove before it boiled, resting it on the countertop, and once it cooled, returning it to the fire. The script had been prepared, written, and practiced in her mind. However, the main participant in this story, her co-star, had not made his triumphant appearance.

First, she waited in a poised position, then faced the door while resting her weight on the countertops. After an hour and a half, the cold had crept up on her, fighting and winning against the burning heat of the nerves, leaving her shivering. Bent over the countertops with her eyes fixed on the kettle, she seemed disinterested, disappointed, and tired.

Her hand covered her mouth in a loud yawn. Once the anxiety had subsided, tiredness set in—slow blinks, head buried between her arms on the table, eyes still fixed on the kettle. It was right there, on the fire, still with time to boil. "You're going to burn the whole place down," a voice interrupted her thoughts.

That snapped her back from her reverie. It was evident that her mind had conjured a realistic dream because the kettle she was supposed to be watching had been removed from the fire, with a cloth covering the handle, and placed on the countertop, far from her reach to prevent burns. Steam billowed loudly from it, whistling in the stillness of the night.

Standing up, she froze in place, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to process what she was witnessing. The first few buttons of his grey shirt were undone, and he wore black trousers of the uniform, but no boots. Although his slippers didn't match the scene, his exhaustion was unmistakable. There he stood, as stoic and unfriendly as ever: Captain Levi, with rolled-up sleeves, removing the kettle from the fire and clicking his tongue as he turned off the gas.

Facing away from her, he seemed as indifferent as if she were just another countertop in the kitchen. Her nails softly scraped her arms as she pondered whether to press further, take the hint, or if she was simply cold, hence why she ran her hands up and down her arms. The muscles of his back contracted and moved, the V-shaped shadow down his spine emphasized his broad shoulders and defined waist. His rolled-up sleeves made her admire his porcelain skin, catching the light in particular shapes as some of his forearm hair shimmered under the candlelight.

While the slippers detracted slightly from the uniform, diminishing the powerful feeling, she had to admit, upon deeper thought, that the tight black trousers of his new uniform were incredibly appealing. Despite his short stature, Captain Levi was a fine specimen of a man. The subtle notion that perhaps scouts, with their heavy training, gather a couple of points from the MPs in that department. After all, MPs hardly bothered to train beyond the obligatory, which was very little.

Slightly turning to his right, locking eyes with her with an unapproachable demeanour, hand on hip, he questioned, "Dare to explain what you're doing breaking curfew, cadet? Do you want to jeopardize us all with your incompetence"

The first part of her plan was to improvise. ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she thought about saying, but how could she claim that after sleeping over the countertop? His grey eyes, almost cat-like, hunted her in the dark, and suddenly, she felt her legs tremble. There was something inexplicably magnetic about him now that she had him up close, alone, in the middle of the night.

Her lips, still glossy, parted in doubt as she mumbled uneasily, "I…" She wanted to come up with a new excuse, but quickly realized she wasn’t cut out for this, for the whole charade. "I have a headache," she finally managed.

His face remained unreadable, uninterested eyes glued to her, judging her, waiting for her to break under his scrutiny, like a mother who knows you’re lying, allowing a brief moment of silence for a confession before taking matters into her own hands. But Y/N stayed resolute, gathering ambition from unknown sources.

Hand on hips, weight shifting from one leg to another, eyes quickly moving from her face to the countertop. "That won’t help," the words crossed the kitchen as if it were an open field of a hunting sport, piercing her heart but leaving her to crawl an agonizing death until her dying breath.

"Sorry?"

Eyes focusing again on the countertop. "Black tea," he said monosyllabically, as if each word cost him money. "That doesn’t help with headaches; you should get chamomile or peppermint."

"Ah," she replied, confused. Why was he clarifying that? What was the point of this conversation? Crossing legs as the cold crept in, but it quickly vanished as blood rushed to her cheeks.

Turning back around, facing the counter and gripping her own teacup. The recommendation was blatantly ignored; it seemed like a random fact thrown at her rather than something to take seriously, at least for her. About to carry on, she considered just faking preparing the tea and getting away from there.

Frozen in place, each hair on her body raised involuntarily. Not even his steps against the wood planks had been heard. ‘Oh.. Uhm-’ the natural process of breathing was totally forgotten. A strong, patronizing hand sneaking, almost creeping with confidence on her lower back, guiding her toward another cupboard.

He moved closer, getting an involuntary reaction out of her. Straightening up, chest pushing forward, lips parting, breath accelerating. He was so close, looking into her. Eyes locked onto hers over her shoulder, transparent pearls penetrating her soul. Nails sank into her palms as her teeth clenched. If he was so short, why did it feel so towering? Suddenly, the thought of owing him an apology for simply sharing the same air crossed her mind. Her nipples were noticeable through her loose shirt; he must be able to see it. As he grew closer, her idea was that all the subtle little hints must have worked.

Eyes closed, holding her breath, the air moving around her gave her the idea of movement. Holding out for nothing. Waiting for him to steal a kiss from her, perhaps grip her hips, pushing aside her loose short, turning her around, and fuck her roughly and mindlessly over the countertop. Getting what he wanted as if it were rightfully his.

“Here,” she opened her eyes. He was handing her a tea box where it read the same ingredients he had suggested.

“Thank you, sir,” her subtle smile tried to make up for her disappointment. Expectations were different; somehow, her best hopes were on him ogling at her, making it more impersonal and disinterested. Therefore, she could say that she walked up there, perhaps pleased him, and got what she came looking for. It was easier; easier it is to repeat like a broken record some silly washed-up quotes and nicknames that guys allegedly liked. ‘Yes, daddy’, ‘I’ll be a good girl Captain, I just do bad things with you,’ ‘Please, sir. I’m a good girl,’ or something in the department of ‘Ah- its so big, daddy,’ Get used and lose a little bit of dignity in exchange for something else.

Different it is, the tension building in her as she felt him looming over her frame, reminding her of just how insignificant she truly was compared to him. His hand resting lightly on the small of her back, guiding her movements. The coolness of his touch contrasting with the heat radiating off her body. Or the opposite, how cold and exposed she felt with her scant clothes and his cold hand didn’t help. A treacherous finger began to travel upwards, making each vertebra move and curve.

“Sir?” she hated how scared her voice sounded. Suddenly, as if it had escaped her mind, she remembered he was humanity’s strongest soldier. The soldier who went on the expedition to retake Wall Maria and essentially fought the most difficult titan shifter known until now, who led the Uprising. How many MPs did he kill there? How much stronger was he than her? Could she truly still walk away from this, or was her fate sealed?

“You’re stiff as a board; that’s giving you the headaches,” he commented casually as his right hand reached her shoulder and kneaded.

The action was absurdly overwhelming; she didn’t know her traps hurt this much until now but also how to react. Self-preservation mechanisms were out of the window; her lips pronounced what they had been dying to say since she left her bed. “It’s because of the promotion; it’s stressing me out.”

“I can help with that,”

Her worst fears and wildest dreams, all together in a sentence. Confirming what she came looking for but also the end of the speculations. Translucent eyes looked at him over her shoulder, expecting him to make the bolder move. She hated to admit how her heart skipped a beat, how his controlling hand on her neck made her want to arch her spine and gasp softly.

“With the headaches, I mean,” adrenaline had reached a peak and now tumbled down, leaving her devoid of thought other than disappointment mixed with relief. However, his tone, covered in a thin layer of entertainment, passed unaware to her at first.

Both hands on each trap, fingers sank in and then moved. Tearing her muscles apart from her bones, that’s how it felt. Handling, strong, overwhelming. Her breath stuck in her chest, and no matter how much she tried, she wobbled in her place. No amount of strength could help her remain still. Each tug that forced her to press slightly back against his chest, feeling the straps of the uniforms, made her sense weak, nervous. How his strong, calloused fingers felt divine, slightly too rough with the perfect amount of pain to make her forget for a minute but not entirely. Despite their roughness, his nails were perfectly short, making it impossible to experience any scratches.

The thought that perhaps there was another motive behind all this, beyond just getting a promotion, crossed her mind. It was the opportunity to experience how it would feel to be man-handled by the strongest soldier out there until she was left foolish. Her walls pressed together as excitement crept in, reminding her of how lonely and empty she felt. Wouldn’t a little love and something significant big feel extraordinary? The realization of how thin her shorts were and how much her body reacted to his touch filled her with shame.

Allowing him to treat her like some bitch in heat, shooting a load or two for a mere letter that said, "she’s good at what she does," as some cruel inner joke. It left her feeling worthless yet needy, a bad combination.

“Breathe, you’re tensing even more,” he murmured, and she could almost swear the smirk could be felt in his tone. The intentions were to breathe, to remain unaffected, but his movements felt powerfully triggering, and he seemed so unbothered by it. Any force he applied to almost tear her muscles into the correct position didn’t signify any real strength for him.

Each tug began to win little chopped breaths out of her as it was painful but also relaxing. She couldn't help but obey his command, forcing herself to take deep breaths to try and relax. But his touch, his presence, it was all so intense. Each movement of his hands felt deliberate, calculated, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. And she couldn't deny the tingling sensation that spread through her body at his touch, despite her best efforts to remain composed.

She struggled to follow his instructions, her breaths coming out in short, shallow gasps as his hands worked their magic on her tense muscles. Each touch sent shivers down her spine, igniting a strange mix of pleasure and discomfort within her. It was as if he could sense her vulnerability, her longing for something more than just a simple massage. Tug, thumbs pressing against her traps as they moved upwards, dragging her skin with them, chopped out breath as the pressure was too much before it withdrew slowly.

Then all over again, harsh. “Mhh ah-” it left her lips involuntarily as he touched a particular place. She gnawed her lip, holding back. His fingers weren’t particularly soft, not only because of the pressure he delivered but also rough with days and days of working, slightly calloused, rubbing in all the right places. Not again, she swore she was trying to remain composed, how he hadn’t heard her. “AH-” wincing as he moved up and contracted her neck, she feared for a second he would choke her.

His grip tightened, nails digging deeper into her flesh, pulling her downward. Thighs shaking, knees buckled, she fought to keep standing as her world spun. He knew her weakness; he exploited it without remorse. Every touch was a reminder of his dominance, every pull a testament to his power. She was helpless beneath him, unable to escape his grasp. Levi’s hands, humanity’s strongest hands—strong, angled, harsh, broad.

He chuckled.

He chuckled between pulls, his thumb rubbing circles on her sore spots, while his palm pressed harder against her neck.

Y/N froze in place as she felt him chuckle entertained behind her, almost mischievously. “Somebody is excited,” he calmly commented, but the smirk on his face was subtly evident in his tone. His voice was steady, despite the few sassy remarks, and it annoyed her to death. Like a cat playing with a moth until it's dead, they know they've won the game, so why rush it? Let's enjoy the hunt while she’s stripped of her dignity. “Nobody's given it to you in a while?”

Lips parted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and offense, she looked over her shoulder at Levi’s bleary eyes. “Excuse me?” she frowned deeply as she turned. She hadn't realized until then how close he was to her, practically breathing the same air. His stare penetrated her iris and seemed to read her soul, making her swallow uneasily. Her demanding tone quickly withdrew not only from her voice but also from her features. His silence subtly implied, but his presence demanded, ‘Come on, girl. You don’t reply to me like that if you know what's good for you.’ That’s what she got.

“A massage,” he said quietly, “nobody's given you a massage in a while?”

At this rate, she knew he knew. He was playing, dancing around the edge of pretending ignorance and seeing how far she would go. Standing, either summoning the courage to bring up the offer herself or walk out empty-handed. Waiting, like a mafia boss to see how much she would beg before setting her free, or crawling back to him, hoping for an opportunity.

There was an inner battle: either snap at him, reply, or descend all levels of self-love.

“It’s because you’re going too rough,” she said, mainly because she refused to be so quickly humiliated by a guy that short. Both looked at each other; her gaze moved slightly over his eyes, expecting any shift, something, but it was obvious that in a stare fight, he was going to win.

"Rough?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “You’ve no idea what rough means.”

Her cockiness quickly withdrew. She wished she had some sassy comeback prepared or ready, but it wasn’t the case. Her teeth rolled along the edge of her bottom lip. It made her curious; either he liked to pretend he had more sexual history than was known, or she had bitten off more than she could chew. It stirred up a mix of curiosity, excitement, nervousness, and fear all at once. Imagining him fucking some unknown soldier rough, mindlessly, just for the sake of it. Scouts were so stressed, living quick, short lives.

Her eyes couldn’t help themselves, quickly dropping down to check. His thick, muscular legs, almost as if they had been forced to fit into the tight black trousers of the uniform. Losing its subtleness, the outline of his dick on one side of his left leg forced her to look back up. She finally turned around to face him again, but his stoic expression gave away little information, almost none.

“Perhaps you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, brat,” his voice began to sound like a distorted dream. She was waiting for some smooth approach or perhaps a fully humiliating one. The expectations were simpler: either he would like to pretend some love he endeared from her or behave like any disgusting dude at a bar, asking for a quickie in a bathroom cabinet. Neither of the two options was less humiliating. But this was different.

At this rate, the humiliation and initial thoughts were replaced by overwhelming curiosity. “How rough?” She felt her glossed lips stick together slightly as she murmured timidly, feeling her head heat up and her stomach tighten. Something intrinsically wrong must be with her, she believed.

With a second thought, she was sure that this would make her extremely ashamed.

“You’ll have to stick around to find out,” he warned, not a single centimetre of his features giving away any sort of intentions. Excitement or expectation, arousal or boredom, sweetness or creepiness. Grey gems looking back at her deadly, daring her to make deals with the devil or walk back home.

‘Go big or go home, didn’t I say that?’

“I want a recommendation,” she finally said it, thrilling anticipation coursing through her veins. This man, this beast, was about to unleash hell upon her body. Yet, she found herself oddly eager for it. Was it fear or excitement? Perhaps both. “and… in exchange, you can go as rough as you want.”

It felt absurdly dirty. Giving it a thought in the hole of self-hate, she concluded that perhaps she should have done this when she was younger, like her friends as cadets. When hormones and lack of experience made it hard to think it through, that receiving a good salary and free days to go out and party was worth letting any squad leader get a chance.

"Recommendation," he echoed, repeating her words as if testing them on his tongue. There was a moment of silence, as if weighing the pros and cons of such a proposition.

Finally, he nodded. "Very well."

Those two words held such weight, sending another wave of nerves through her. What had she gotten herself into? The room suddenly became hotter, thicker, suffocating. Her heart raced faster, pounding heavily in her ears.

Half-lidded, she moved closer, not entirely sure how this was done, if it was meant to start slow and soft for it to escalate. But she tried; she could take the lead in the kiss. But his hand stopped her face as he tilted backwards, completely breaking the moment.

“Who do you think I am?” Levi said, offended. And she feared for her life. Perhaps he just wanted to ascertain how much of an easy, cock-drunk slut she was to give him more reasons to find her worthless. But then, “Some green cadet who, for the sake of getting my cock wet, I would fuck you behind a horse at the stables? Or at the common kitchen?”

She didn’t know how to answer, but thankfully, Levi didn’t give her much time to talk. “My chambers.”

Feeling closer to a military order than a booty appointment, she slowly made her way to the door while he retreated to the counters, tidying up. Her feet dragged across the hall as she pushed open the door, her eyes constantly checking behind her. She couldn't shake the feeling that this might all be a joke.

Before she knew it, his hand urged her forward, pushing at the small of her back to guide her upstairs. "Come on, girly, we don’t have all night," he muttered.

It felt like a shameful march. They ascended the stairs in silence, each step echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The stillness of the night only intensified her discomfort; she couldn't shake the feeling that someone might overhear them. Perhaps some night owl among the scouts would peek through a door, or worse, they might already know who slept where. The thought of having to make the same trip downstairs the next morning filled her with dread. As if she would walk out of that room with a paper stuck to her forehead that said, "I was Captain Levi’s slut for a night."

Led through the dim corridors of the base, they passed several closed doors marked 'Officer Quarters,' indicating where higher-ranking personnel resided. Finally, they reached what seemed to be his room. With a swift motion, he unlocked the door and gestured for her to enter first. ‘What a gentleman,’ she thought sarcastically.

As she stepped inside and took in her surroundings, she noticed the simplicity of his chamber. It lacked extravagance, with only functional furniture and tools of his trade. The room felt impersonal, as if he had never bothered to make it feel like home. His office area featured a desk cluttered with paperwork and a bookshelf filled with texts on military strategy and tactics.

To the left were two doors, presumably leading to his bedroom and an attached bathroom. Levi moved past her to search through the cabinets while she observed. Two glasses were already filled by the time he turned to her.

"A drink?" he offered.

She accepted, unable to suppress a subtle smile. Whatever she had anticipated for the night, this wasn't it. Chuckling, she teased, "Do you offer drinks to all the girls you bring over?"

Levi downed his drink and poured another. "No. But you seem nervous as fuck, and it’s making me uncomfortable."

She laughed softly, acknowledging the truth in his statement. "Thank you, then." The burn of alcohol sliding down her throat helped steady her nerves somewhat.

As they stood there, glasses in hand, tension hung thick between them. Hoping the alcohol would ease the tension, she shifted her attention elsewhere, but she could feel his eyes on her, assessing her. Swallowing, Addam's apple moving before he spoke, "Are you clean, right?"

His question caught her off guard, and she almost choked on her drink. "What?" she hummed, not fully comprehending.

Then, fear crept in quickly. "I am… I’m not doing it without protection," she clarified confidently.

His chuckle did little to ease her worry. "No shit, girly. I wasn’t stupid enough as a teen to not wrap it up. I'm not starting now," he replied. "The last thing I need in my life right now is getting a chick knocked up."

His words, despite their lack of warmth, reassured her. "I meant, is it safe for me to eat you out,"

Relief washed over her as she realized her misunderstanding. "Oh," she replied sheepishly. "Yes, you can." As his words sank in, she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, lips pressing together before she took another sip and crossed her legs. 'Doesn’t he want a blowjob?' How many superiors offer you promotions in exchange for making you cum?

He nodded, finishing his drink in one gulp. His intense gaze never wavered from hers. "Good."

Slowly, he approached her, closing the distance until they were mere inches apart. She could smell the liquor on his breath, taste it on his lips. For a brief moment, she wondered if he expected her to initiate something, but before she could gather her thoughts, their lips met in a passionate kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, asserting dominance as his hands gripped her hips, pressing her against the door.

Pulling away slightly, he pinned her against the door, his hands roaming her body as he kissed her jawline. "Wait… let’s go to the room," she suggested, realizing he meant to fulfil his earlier request.

"No, you're too timid for riding my face. I want to be buried in your pussy right now," he insisted. The impact against the harsh wood surface and his lips reconnecting with her with necessity almost knocked her completely off her breath. Hands that had been kneading her shoulders only a few minutes ago were now digging into her hips, pushing them into his, possessive and demanding.

"Levi," she managed to croak out, her voice barely audible. The kiss was broken again, and her agitated breathing filled the gap between their faces. Surprised by his sudden aggression, she struggled to form coherent thoughts as he continued to devour her neck and shoulders. His hands roamed freely over her body, tracing along her curves and dipping beneath her top to cup her breasts roughly.

“It’s Captain Levi, for you,”

All her attempts to appear seductive were now the natural flush of her face, pumped lips of how they tried to suck each other’s air, the blood in her cheeks, the tossed hair. His hands grabbed the edge of her shorts and played with it. His words crossed the little space between their features with cockiness. “What are you wearing under this for me? Huh? What slutty little shit did you put on to wrap yourself up as if you’re my birthday present?”

A cheeky index finger ghostly touched her belly with its knuckle, making the fine hairs raise involuntarily before tugging on the fabric to sneak a peek. ‘Why doesn’t he just tell me to strip?’ But Captain Levi seemed to be like a cat; he liked to play with his prey until eating them completely, a cruel game. Eyes checked down and hummed in approval. “Black, classic. Not bad,” he said, but a part of his speech didn’t seem impressed. “But I prefer pink.”

Her mind insisted on giving it a second thought, that he didn’t strike her as those types of guys, but anything happening until then had proved to her that she had no idea who he was, what he liked, what type of man Captain Levi was.

Without further prompting, Levi dropped to his knees, positioning himself between her legs. His fingers trailed along the hem of her shorts, pausing briefly before dropping it. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before diving in, his nose brushing against the fabric.

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath as his warm breath tickled her sensitive flesh. Anticipation built within her, mixing with apprehension. It was unavoidable. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to focus solely on the sensations washing over her. A gasp left her lips as he grabbed her right leg and lifted it as if it was nothing and placed it over his shoulder. His calloused hand still lingering on it, gripping her thighs with strength and pleasure, enjoying gripping them as his nose pressed softly against her folds.

Levi's skilled fingers hooked beneath the elastic band of her panties, tugging them aside just enough. Once removed, he ran the pad of his thumb lightly over her swollen core. An involuntary moan escaped her lips. She trembled in a different kind of anxiousness; it was now plainly obvious. With a smirk, Levi leaned in closer, his nose barely grazing her sensitive flesh. "Do you like that, girly?" he whispered, his tone thick with lust. Her answer was evident in the way she trembled under his touch.

Gently, he blew cold air across her wetness, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She couldn't help but arch her back, moaning softly as her grip tightened on the door behind her. Nails digging into the wood as terror set in. Slowly, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to trace the outline of her folds.

Fear. No, he didn’t want a quickie at some public facility. No, he didn’t want some quick blowjob under his desk. No, he didn’t want any fast, easy solution. He wanted to savour each single centimetre of skin, torture all the cells, squeeze each second that he got to play with her as his little possession.

Each flick of his tongue sent shockwaves of sensation throughout her body, making her squirm. His expert hands found purchase on her thighs, holding her firmly in place. His tongue flicked out, teasing her entrance as his thumb kept doing slow little circles on top of her clit. Gripping his shoulders for balance and support. He slid his middle finger across her entrance, coating it with her arousal before dipping it inside. His thumb continued to tease her clit, stroking gently yet firmly.

Her moans grew louder, punctuated by soft whimpers as her head thumped against the door. Her breath agitated as his tongue slipped inside her. “Mh- Ah!” she felt her climax nearing, wondering with half-lidded eyes why he was being so pleasing. It was torture how he moved with perfect sync, but yet it was subtle. As if she let herself be dragged by the course, her body relaxing and twitching unintentionally as he held her in place.

Her back arched unintentionally, trying to follow him as he suddenly pulled back when she was about to reach her peak. “Captain-”

“That’s it, get all soft for me,” He murmured as he casually kissed the bottom of her belly. Before he went back, determined. It only took one, two, three flicks of his thumb directly over her bud to make her gasp loudly, press her raised leg against his head and feel how the other tensed and then struggle to keep her up. Her breath struggled to find a rhythm when all of a sudden, he took all of her in. Unapologetic tongue ran flat all over her fold before closing over the top so he started to suck and lick directly her clit as two unceremonious fingers were playing with her entrance before sinking in all the way.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out as her nails scratched the door and she began to twist in position as if it was too much after her release.

“MH- Ah, no wait- AH!” a loud moan cut her complaints as his fingertips found a particular place and decided to assault it with no mercy, as his mouth kept playing directly over her clit. It was too much; she felt her leg shaking as much as she felt his fingers getting impossibly wet and slippery inside with no remorse anymore. They pushed against her walls, making her feel the tug of her own body before returning to press against that spot.

“No. No-hah!” She began convulsing against the wall, her head moving hectically to the side as she felt herself getting impossibly wet and electric waves coursing through her. “Please- No! Wait ah! No."

Palms pressed against the door, trying to push herself upwards, but he grabbed her shaking leg that was struggling to keep her up and positioned it over his shoulder with the other. The movement was so smoothly done; to him, it felt natural, but for her, it felt like a completely different situation. The strength with which he moved left her absurdly powerless; the tug felt so powerful as if she didn’t even notice the resistance she was exerting compared to his.

Then, he completely sat on his face. She felt everything—the contour of his face as her body rocked involuntarily, his fingers slipping in and out as his nose rubbed against her folds while his tongue licked clean her abused hole. “HM!” she gasped loudly, jerking upwards before falling completely over his head when the hand that was kneaded the meat of her thigh slapped her loudly.

She wanted to move, to slip away as she felt as if her bones were being drained, uncontrollable pleasure overtaking her. Her thighs pressed against his head as one of her hands moved downwards to tug his soft dark locks, obsessed, shivering as her mind kept shutting down.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she struggled against him, fighting against his strong grasp. "Please, Captain, I can't take it anymore!" she pleaded, her voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m fucking going to piss myself.”

With a smirk hidden from view, Levi held her in place, refusing to let her go. He knew exactly where she stood, only groaning pleasingly as he intensified his actions. His fingers thrust into her relentlessly, matching his rhythm with the flicks of his tongue. Levi could feel her hips buck violently, trying to escape his relentless assault, how she squirmed helplessly in his grasp. He was feasting on her with no remorse.

She cried out his name, unable to bear the intensity any longer. Her orgasm hit like a freight train, her body convulsing as she tried to pull away. But he wouldn't allow it, keeping her anchored to his mouth, shaking as he kept driving his tongue all over her. The feeling of being dripping was overshadowed by him drinking her in as if he was the thirstiest man alive, moaning against her folds as she could almost bet she felt his pleased smirk.

At some point, she couldn’t even hold her form against the door, twitching involuntarily. Levi reluctantly released her, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. He stood up and picked her up, no buckling knees, no groan or scoff as he did; it was as if he was picking up a paper sheet from the desk. Weightless, powerless against his pull. Unceremoniously, he dropped her on the bed.

Jacket off shoulders, left at the back of a chair inside his room. Arness's upper part was pushed down so his hands could grip the edge of his grey shirt and push it over his head. Then, before she could process it, enjoying the soft cotton of the fabric against her body, marking a huge difference from the rough door, one of his knees sank on the mattress before he crawled to be between her legs.

Elbows on the bed, heels pushing upwards, her broken voice pleaded, “no, please. It’s enough,” as he kissed and nibbled the sweet part of her inner thighs before moving to her core again. “Ah!” she jerked again as he snapped the side of her leg again.

The tingling heat after the hit lingered on her as Levi rearranged her on the bed to his pleasure. “I think you’re not understanding your position,” he groaned, “I’ll say when it's enough; you just have to spread your legs for me to do what I please. That’s your fucking job now if you want your stupid letter, lay there and be a good pliant hole for me to fuck.”

Uncomfortable groans echoed in the room, interrupted by his own voice once again, “Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes…” she murmured but his haunting glance between his legs made her thought he heard her backwards softly. Passing down saliva, “Yes, sir.”

“This is your last warning,” he informed her, while his hands ran up and down her body, palm flat against the valley of her breasts, the touch was so soft but it felt subtly rough from the callouses of his hands, a permanent reminder this wasn’t supposed to feel as lovely as it momentarily did. “Did you hear me, girly? Or have I already fucked you dumb?”

“Yes, sir.”

Contorting uneasily as little whimpers left her lips between a mix of discomfort, pleasure, exhaustion, and pain. Pain because she could already feel his fingers sneaking in, three of them patiently spreading her for him and his restless mouth once again on work. It was too much, involuntarily her legs pushed against the mattress when he hit a particular place. Twisting as if she was possessed, fingers tugging from the sheets and her back arching as a natural reflex.

It was embarrassing how much she felt the wetness of her own mixed with his saliva sneaking through her ass cheeks down to the bed. Her legs felt weak but got a sudden burst of strength as he kept playing with a place that made her eyes roll back and tried to push her up. Levi held her in place, arm surrounding her thighs and arching her core to his face. Despite it all, her hole twitched with the necessity of more, demanding something even bigger as she felt her pinkie fingers going numb from the overpressure.

Knees buckled as he parted momentarily. “What a cute little slutty hole. You’re so tight; I will enjoy fucking it raw,” while she trembled in anticipation, Levi smirked as if he could already see everything he had planned in his mind. He softly pressed a finger on it only to see it clamp down onto it. “So fucking needy; when was the last time you got a good cock to fuck you back into your place?”

With a smirk, Levi withdrew his finger, replaced it with his mouth, and plunged inside, sucking her into his mouth. His finger teased against the back wall, exploring her depths before finding the spot that made her buck wildly. She mewled, her voice hoarse and filled with a hint of desperation. Her head thrashed from side to side, her nails digging into the sheets as she begged for mercy.

The following two orgasms were quick; Levi was getting eager to plow into her pussy with his dick now. His finger pried her open, and his tongue easily got in and swirled around. At this rate, she was just spread on the bed, twitching miserably, whimpering out of pleasure and the sweet pain it provided. “It’s so pretty when you cry,” he joked as little mewling sounds left her rose lips, and her eyes looked translucent with clamped-out eyelashes by the moisture. “Beg me more.”

Her eyes fluttered open, desperate and pleading. "Please, sir… just fuck me already," she begged. The intensity of her arousal was overwhelming; her body begged for release.

Levi got up to his knees, looking down at her and then between her legs, admiring his own creation with a smirk on his face. Fingers casually unbuckling his belt, letting it hang loosely around his hips as he undid the front button of his black uniform trousers and shamelessly patted the front of his engorged dick, feeling the outline of his erection through the fabric and hissing slightly as he finally got some relief from the pressure. As if he enjoyed forcing himself to enjoy every little bite from his meal, saving the best for last, testing his endurance of resisting to the last limit so each little inch that he plugged in of his dick finally in that slippery hot heaven felt like pure blessing. His left hand, which wasn’t touching himself, caressed her leg that forced to be up because she could no longer do it on his own.

“Ass up, girly,” he said. The command had been processed, but it was as if her body wasn’t replying to her mind. The only thing she could fully process was the movement of the mattress and how cold the bed felt as Levi abandoned it. Lazy steps against the wood planks that gave up little cracking sounds. Striding in front of his dresser, slightly bending, allowing her to have a good view of his ass as he dropped the trousers with the underwear all together and then quickly folded them and threw them over the surface, but he upheld something with his left hand from his clothes that she couldn’t perceive from the perspective of spying on him from her lazily open legs and half-lidded eyes. Fingers rummaged through a couple of things before he got what he had been looking for.

“It seems like I’ve to do fucking everything,” he complained, but there was no hint of actual anger in his voice, stoic as ever as he walked back to the bed with his hard dick on full display. Impossible erect and slightly dripping pre-cum from the tip that was a deep shade of red compared to the rest of his pale body, it involuntarily twitched as if it was happy of being finally free. She bit her bottom lip as she delighted herself with the view before doing a little eye contact; it was a good size, way more than she anticipated. Underneath it his heavy balls and on top a nice happy trail that resembled a signal that indicated anything under his belly button and chiseled abs was also a happy surprise.

Her eyes quickly fell to his left hand, and she noticed the belt from the 3DMG gear. While the reason why he may have kept that was rather obvious, the possibility escaped her rationality. “Wait- You’re not using that-“

“I said.” He just gripped the sides of her hips and flipped her over, “Ass up.”

Knees sank on the bed, “MHMP-“ her complaints were muffled by the bed as avoiding her full upper body falling completely into the mattress was difficult as he gripped her arms.

“I told you, it was your last warning,” Levi said as the belt tied up against her wrists, knotting up safely. Her face buried in the sheets by the pressure of her own weight, “I’ll teach you discipline, little shit.”

Hands massaging her ass cheeks, fingers sinking in the meat as his own knees against her legs forced more space. “HMP!” muffled complaint as swiftly one hand impacted on her ass, heat spreading through the skin and turning it red as the sound echoed in the dead of night. His hand followed, leaving a mark on her ass. The heat traveled through her skin, and she could feel her pussy drenching with need. She whimpered, trying to squirm against the belt, but he held her in place. Another and another, each time made her jerk forward slightly as her breath held in her chest and then puffed out.

“Please…” she whispered as her head turned to a side, resting her cheek on the mattress. “I’ll behave, please.”

Levi hummed, but his hand didn’t leave her ass, caressing the hurt zone softly. “Don’t you think we should make it even?”

The next swat landed on her other cheek, making her eyes water and her body jerk. "Please!" she cried out, her voice hoarse and desperate. Her whole body tensed, every nerve ending screaming in anticipation and desire.

Levi grunted, "Ah. You’re such a crying baby. As all MPs," he growled, rubbing the red splotches with his calloused hand. "You're so wet, begging for my dick. You better be grateful you're getting it."

“Ah-!” she gasped loudly as he slapped her ass again. The grip on her hair pushed her head up, and despite the tug and the strength of the grip, the relief of fresh air filling her lungs finally clouded her mind. His breath impacted on her face from the side as he held her, watching how her mouth hung open, panting softly.

“Thank me for showing you your place,” Levi demanded.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered, forcing herself to look at him from the side. Locking her pleading eyes with his demanding stare. “Thank you for reminding me of my place, sir.”

Levi hummed satisfied, his fingers weaving into her hair again. "That's my girl," he growled, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Good girl,” he repeated before placing a kiss on her shoulder blades that were working extra hard by having her hands tied back. He released her hair, gave her ass one last swat, and then positioned himself behind her. She whimpered one last time, face resting on the side as she observed him opening up the foil of the condom carefully and then the subtle hiss as he rolled it down his dick. One hand lazily jerked himself as another reached for her folds and casually ran up and down his thumb through them, spreading the slick evenly.

“You should be riding my cock until I got tired of keeping it wet and warm, yet here I am,” Levi complained as if he wasn’t the one taking each and every decision while shamelessly gripping her tied-up hands from the back to position himself. “Fucking you silly and doing all the shitty job; maybe I should get that promotion,”

‘As if this wasn’t what you wanted.’

But she decided to carry on with the performance, either out of self-preservation, arousal, or the feeling of the cold-wrapped head of his cock running up and down her folds, applying soft pressure at her entrance before withdrawing, had already made her mad. “Thank you, sir.”

The angle of her body, the arch of her back, his hand on her hip, and his subtle hum of approval. Her mouth hung open, and the gasp was fully cushioned by the bed, struggling against her binds. Despite her assumptions, Levi sank in slowly and patiently, despite slipping inside effortlessly.

“Ah- Fuck,” he scoffed out, gritting his teeth as his head fell backward slightly, forcing himself to savor the moment but not completely lose it, gasping slightly. Withdrawing only a bit before thrusting back in, testing the waters. He took a moment to adjust, breathing heavily through his nose, and then began to thrust slowly. Each movement was met with a soft whine from the girl. But the soft, almost loving pace lasted the split of a second, a brief moment of calmness before the storm.

She should have known, at this rate, the second one of his hands abandoned her hip to grip the belt around her tied-back hands and used it as leverage. The tug from the resistance, the forced into place, and one deep thrust that knocked the air out of her lungs. Withdrawing almost all the way, almost only the tip left in before he used her own hands as a grip to push all the way in.

"God damn," he cursed under his breath, pushing in deeper. “You’re so tight,” he muttered, a pleased growl escaping his throat. Meanwhile, she would swear she was trying to breathe more, but the sheets stuck to her face and covered her nose. She tried to cry a little bit less loud because despite her features being buried down, the loud muffled moans each time he plunged all the way in mixed with the loud slapping of the bed frame against the wall must have woken up someone somehow.

“MH-HMP!” Her dignity told her not to sob of how good it feels, how deep it hits, how it felt as if he was trying to break her in half, conserve some dignity, but tears ran down her face of how perfectly synced he set the rhythm, how the friction of her parted knees against the sheets was starting to burn, but it was the perfect mix of how his cock’s head hit that place so brutally sweet.

“Fucking shit, what a pretty view on all fours,” he grunted, his voice sounding less controlled. The lust creeping in as his free thumb pushed his ass cheeks apart, locking his eyes on the way his cock disappeared into the slippery mess of her abused hole at that rate. “Ah-“ Levi let out a subtle moan as if the view was too much to handle, as the sweat glistened on her skin. The only way to not get completely lost in it was to spark it again.

“NH-AH!” she cried out as her legs trembled and her lips gasped for air.

“Best ass inside the walls,” Levi groaned. “And it’s all mine to fuck raw.”

Each thrust, each pull out, and then the deep push - Levi grunted, his own breathing ragged. He gripped the belt, pulling her hands slightly, making her hiss as the pressure against her skin was starting to leave obvious marks. Marks that joined all the rest of them, the still fresh, almost pulsating red handprints on each of her ass cheeks, the shameless bites he left on her shoulder blades each time he bent over to it.

His pace quickened, and so did her tears. She was soaked, her toes curled, and her body shook with each hit. She was a mess, a crying, whiny mess, and yet she was enjoying it, her core clenching around his cock with every movement. Levi growled, and his thrusts became harder, faster, more forceful. A relentless groan escaped him as he slammed into her harder, the friction of her wet core against his shaft nearly driving him insane. His grip on the belt tightened, and he pulled her hands back even further, making her body arch even more. The sound of leather against her skin echoed through the room, the scent of her arousal mingling with the smell of the clean room.

She was close, so close, but Levi stopped suddenly, and she wanted to scream out in frustration, to put an end to this sweet torture. Her knees hurt, her arms hurt, her pussy throbbed with need and abuse when he pulled out of her. No time to think as his pale, sweaty hand appeared from the top, grabbing the pillow and then turning her around forcefully from her shoulder.

“I want to see that fucking pretty face of yours while I fuck you,” Despite the darkness of the night, the room felt like it lighted up for her now with her face finally on display. Pillow under her hips, both legs over his shoulders, and without a minute to spare, he thrust all the way in.

“AH!” her moan echoed in the room as the angle felt too much, her toes curled impossibly, and her legs shook. “Ah- Ah- MHA! Captain-“ Top of her body twisted as her head rolled to the side, tears running down her cheeks, and the restless attention of him on her face was humbling.

“SHHH, quiet, little shit ah-“ He whispered. Sweat dripped from his forehead and from the tips of his dark locks, but he ignored it. “You want the entire fucking scouts to hear you?”

The bed creaked loudly, their bodies merging into one, like an animalistic dance. He gripped her legs more tightly, pushing in and out, setting up a pace that seemed to put both of them into a trance. Few messy soppy kisses to her legs as he had them within reach. Y/N bit her bottom lip trying to suppress her moans, leaving restless whimpers and cries of pleasure “Ah ah ah- hmmm,”. She tried but couldn't contain the sounds, but his dick was hitting her cervix as if that was his glorious duty; he folded her as if squeezing her legs against her bouncing tits was somehow helping her not to feel how his dick filled each corner of her. No, it did not help.

“Stop, stop, stop, almost, fuck-” she begged, pressing her legs against his head and trying to control her body from shaking.

Levi laughed roughly, a sound filled with victory and lust. “Want more? Want me to ruin you completely?”

“AH! YES-!” a loud moan as her back arched, head thrown backwards, and eyelids flickering of how good it felt. Nothing that felt like this, as someone pushed her down on the bed, slamming his cock into her, should be healthy, she concluded. “Quiet,” Levi warned, his voice hoarse. He loved how she clenched around his cock, how her pussy milked him with her orgasm. Frowning deeply as the feeling of her clamping down on his dick was too much to handle, a soft, quiet little moan left his gritted teeth. His abs contorted and his white knuckle grip on the sheets made his arm veins pop up.

“Please, Captain, Ah!” Why bother, the sound of the bed should be enough of a clue for the rest. And what if someone thought she was Captain Levi’s slut? What if she opened her legs wide and steady for him to fuck her restlessly? Who cared? Not her, definitely not her, as the only remaining feeling aside from the scorching heat of the pleasure waves around her body was the tingling sensation of her numbed arms and feet.

“Shut the fuck up,” he insisted, looking down at her. His hand around her neck, two fingers pushed down her parted lips. “I fucking told you to keep quiet.”

“NHG!” She choked on them as Levi kept them there while he lost his rhythm, thrusting into her restlessly and messily.

Her eyes watered up, staring into his as she struggled to breathe. The sweaty, panting man fucking her hard and fast, with an unapologetic expression on his face. She attempted to shake her head, but he wouldn't let her go.

"Shhh," he muttered, panting mouth as sweat ran down his face. "Just let me finish this."

Each thrust seemed to drive him closer to the edge. The friction between his dick and her pussy grew more intense, sending waves of pleasure through him. He couldn't care less about being quiet anymore - he just wanted to come, and he wanted her to see him do it.

"You're gonna cum with me," Levi growled, his voice ragged. "Look at me."

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with a mixture of fear and desire. Levi's eyes bore into hers, making her shiver with each thrust. She let out a soft whimper, unable to deny him anything anymore. The pleasure was too overwhelming to resist.

"That's right," he praised, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. "Cum with me, you little slut." His thrusts grew more desperate, each one driving him closer to the edge. He needed to come, needed to release the tension building up inside him, and she was his outlet. Her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock with every twitch, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Tears ran down her eyes into her ears as so did the saliva around his digits drool down her chin, pleading eyes looking into his begging for him to put this to an end.

“MHM-Hmp,” soft humming whimpers that were wordless pleadings of him letting her finally cum.

"You want it?" Levi snarled, thrusting into her harder. "Fuck, you're so damn tight. You love this, don't you?"

Levi couldn't resist anymore, the sight of her tear-filled eyes and pleading look pushed him over the edge. He growled, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he felt his orgasm approaching. He grinned down at her, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. “Fuck- Aren’t you pretty?” he murmured against her face, almost smiling out of satisfaction.

Both panting in the microspace of the closeness of their faces, breathing each other's ragged puffs of air. Their noses thrusting into each other sometimes as he slammed into her the final times, feeling the wave of pleasure wash over him. Frowned closed eyes, as mewled moans mixed together. Her pussy gripped him tightly, milking him like a vice, and he knew she was cumming too. His eyes met hers, her face a mask of pleasure and pain, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"Not bad," he breathed out, collapsing on top of her. He tried to catch his breath once, twice before he rolled to his side. Finally withdrawing from her slowly and laying flat on his bed next to her. One knee up, arm over his chest, and the other behind his head as a makeshift pillow as his lost eyes glued to the ceiling.

The room was silent except for their heavy breaths, the sweat dripping off their bodies mixing together. His chest raised up and down still erratic as both of them slowly blinked. Y/N lay there, panting heavily, her hands still bound behind her back. She could feel the sweat from Levi's body on her, where their skin touched. Her legs were shaking, and her pussy was still throbbing from the intense experience they just had. Her eyes met his, and she couldn't help but smile weakly.

His body twitched from time to time from the stimulation; her body felt like jelly. Completely boneless. She closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. But as the cold began to creep in, she contorted uneasily and cleared her throat timidly. “Could you…ehm-“

Levi didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, still catching his breath. After a few moments, as he came out of his lethargic state, he finally spoke. “Oh yeah.” His fingers began to undo the knot around her wrists. “There.” Y/N rubbed her hands, feeling the blood returning to them. Her eyes focused on the deep red lines and bruises around them, and she grimaced uneasily. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and she couldn't help but glance at Levi. He shifted, sitting up and rolling off the used condom before tossing it into the bin close to the nightstand.

He stood up slightly to pick something up from his nightstand and also to push the blanket closer that was at the bottom of the bed. She tugged a bit from the sheets to cover her body as the moment slightly washed away, and nudity felt obscene and unnecessary. Levi let the blanket crumple around his hips as he turned on a cigarette.

"You good?" Levi asked, taking a puff from it and leaving the cage back on the nightstand. He looked at her, examining her bruised hands and the red marks from the ropes. A small frown appeared on his face, but he quickly hid it.

Y/N nodded, biting her lip. The marks on her wrists stung, but she didn't want to complain. She slowly sat up, trying to regulate her breathing. The room was still filled with a mix of their sweat and the scent of their passion. Her eyes caught on his lips, more precisely the cigarette. They were rather new now that they discovered the world outside the walls.

Levi looked back at her, at her silence, and casually took a last puff from it before placing it in her lips. “There, have it,” he offered. “You know how it works, right?”

She placed both fingers around it and smoked patiently as she hummed and nodded in approval. Somehow, that made him scoff entertained. “Of course you do, MPs always get used to luxuries rather quickly.”

As the smoke left her lips, she returned it. Y/N hesitated, still rubbing her wrists. She couldn't help but wonder if she should be honest. "Ehm—" she pondered around how to approach the topic, her voice shaky. "Was that… good enough? For the promotion?”

Levi glanced at her from the corner of his eye as she smoked the cigarette. The smoke swirled around them, marking the end of their intimate moment. He took the cigarette back and flicked the ash away, taking another drag.

"Good enough?" he repeated, a smirk forming on his lips. "Was it?"

She grew nervous as he asked back, not sure what to reply. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at him. "I gave you what you wanted?" She asked, her voice soft but curious. She couldn't help but feel a bit vulnerable, lying there with him after their intimate encounter.

He chuckled softly, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

Levi sighed, extinguishing the cigarette in an ashtray. He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “You want advice for next time?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Let the other person make an offer first, girly. I asked for your support at the camp so I had an excuse to give you a recommendation; I’ve already heard about your struggle from one of your friends. I had the stupid letter written before you even set foot inside this building."

He paused for a moment, turning his head to look at her. The smirk never left his face.

"But since you offered yourself, I wasn’t going to say no.”

Y/N's face flushed red, feeling embarrassed and a bit betrayed. She bit her lip as she looked at Levi, trying to process what he had just said. Then she scoffed offended, pushing him by the shoulder a bit playfully but also with anger.

"So it was all for nothing," she exclaimed, disappointment evident in her voice and obviously irritated. Holding the crumpled sheets against her chest, “You’re an asshole!”

Her eyes closed in reflex as she noticed his hand moving closer to her face, wrinkling her nose and pushing backward in self-defense. But Levi’s index fingers only softly pushed her frown playfully, and he said, “And you’re too naïve for being an MP,” Levi snorted, rolling his eyes.

Levi watched her move, a small smile on his lips. He slid his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge; his body still feeling sore. To her surprise, he grabbed the blanket and threw it over her head playfully.

"You shouldn't have done that," Y/N muttered, her cheeks still flushed. She took the blanket off her head, which only made her hair even more tangled, glaring at him. "I thought you actually meant it."

Levi smirked, standing up and pulling on his pants. "You really thought I'd turn down an offer like that?" he asked, clearly amused. He reached for his shirt, still smirking at her.

"Get some sleep, I don’t use the bed anyways," he said, zipping up his pants. "But don’t get used to, this isn’t a hotel."

He crossed the door of his bedroom and closed it behind him as she mocked his reply and cursed under her breath.

Walking down the corridors, everybody running to be somewhere else. That’s what the capital is like, always a new pub to discover, always a better party to attend than the previous weekend. Hot and dirty like the vicious air of the underground that laid underneath their boots. Her friends made plans as they called out for the week, writing their names and working hours down on the cards at the front desk. Yellow paper flowed under the conflicted air of the reception office, names written down with different calligraphies and a restless pen swinging as it hung from a cord to the forms.

‘Volunteers,’ it read at the top. The last row was empty, but it was quickly filled out.

‘Squad leader: Y/N L/N’

One of her friends who was eagerly talking to the rest turned around and frowned, confused. “Why are you wasting your weekend volunteering for the Scouts,” she asked, frowning in disgust, “You’re already a squad leader, Y/N, don’t sell yourself short.”

Her fingers gracefully placed the pen back on the table as a smile raised on her features. Adjusting her purse around her shoulders, she casually said, “You know, it’s important to remain humble.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[shaisuki]

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ─── MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.

when toji entered his shared home with you — he can hear the crying of his son. it hasn't stop since he left to get the medicine prescribed by his son's pediatrician. fever was it.

soft footsteps echoing in the floor. toji removing his coat and went to your bedroom. there he sees you. standing in front of the window. moonlight shining through it giving you a halo effect on you. he would be awestruck at you but his son's wailing had been relentless.

his baby with you, flushed skin with tears rolling endlessly in his chubby cheeks. a fever relief pad for babies pasted in his forehead to ease the heat of his fever. he watched as you cooed, rub the back of your baby but still it was useless.

toji sighs. it was rough. it wasn't all shit and giggles when parenting and seeing his baby isn't laughing or doing the same thing all over again plus you. exhaustion visible in your face and tiredness all over your body tending to his little boy. you didn't even notice him and before toji could take a step he hears you hum before you began to sing a familiar tune you always sing when you were pregnant with megumi.

“moon, a hole of light~” you began to sing the first verse and megumi's wailing turn to sniffles upon hearing your voice. the tears rolling in his cheeks turning into drops like dew in leaves after rain. the song hasn't been sung since your pregnancy and megumi stares at you wide eyed. the green in his irises similar to his father turning into one of calmer one.

you raised megumi to distract him while you continue to sing. “cause my love is mine, all mine~” his fingers making grabby motions to you and toji is entranced how you manage to calm your sick baby. “i love mine, mine, mine~” your voice soft. singing the song like a lullaby intended to heal the sick and mend broken hearts and the scarred man gazing at his son and especially to his wife can't help but to feel warm and giddy inside.

“nothing in the world belongs to me~” you continue to sing. your baby eyes wide while he stares at his mother. “but my love mine, all mine, all mine~” placing your son's body in your chest and his head into your shoulder. his breathing softening with hiccups. your palm rubbing his back to soothe the ache and megumi thankfully calmed down. sighing a small smile graces in your lips before bestowing a chaste kiss to his head. hair spiky and you softly laugh imagining how toji would look with his hair spiked up.

you began to sing the second verse and then you turned around to see toji. “my baby, here on earth~” he can see the words forming in your lips added by your angelic voice and he didn't know if he could love you better when you look at him to sing the words intended for him. “showed me what my heart was worth~....” the volume of your voice decreasing not breaking eye contact with your husband and then you greeted him. “toji.”

“megumi finally calmed down but the fever is still there. hopefully it'll be gone by morning.” you say. rocking back and forth to further your baby's comfort. “let me take it from here.” extending his arms and you slowly placed your baby in his. toji isn't good at it. stabbing a man's head is easier than carrying his blood and flesh but toji tries. be a good father and husband in which his father wasn't. it's different now. he thinks to himself. he wasn't alone. he have you and toji intended to make it this way until.... forever.

you rest your head in his shoulder while your hands softly brush megumi's hair. checking his temperature with worry etched in your face. “our child is strong.” toji comforts you. another feat he doesn't know he's capable of and the word our. you and him with your pride and joy resting in his chest. “he is.” smiling softly at your baby.

toji peered at you. his wife stronger than anything else. caring and loving with the voice that can touch one's very soul. calms the storms in its wake and toji thinks back on what good deed he must had done to deserve you. to deserve this life but nothing else matters with you and his life and this little brat.

and toji knows that he doesn't have love in him but now, he have and he intends to have it. to give it to you until there's nothing left in him cause his love didn't exist without you in his life.

[flower-boi16]

Octavia’s reaction is 100% justified, actually

So I already made an entire reblog about this but I feel as if this topic is deserving of being its own post because the fandom’s reaction to Octavia has hit a new low. I’m just gonna paste what I said from this reblog here.

So think of this; young girl living in a home with a close relationship to her father. The father is always there to comfort the young girl and even sang a song when she was little as a lullaby to help her sleep due to having nightmares of her father not being there for her, telling her that no matter what, he’ll never leave and she will always be okay.

Cut to many years later, and, suddenly, things change. The father that the young girl held close to…suddenly cheats on his wife and starts obsessing over a random imp over her, even to the point of making sexual remarks about him around her even when she’s uncomfortable. Everything was turned upside down for her, the parents who previously loved each other now loathe on another, and now the father who held his daughter dear starts neglecting her in favor of this random imp.

Which leads the daughter to grow a fear that her father will leave her in favor of that imp, a perfectly understandable one given that it was established before that she has fears of abandonment. THEN when that father takes the daughter to a carnival that she hated when she was a child, he spends most of the day flirting with that imp on the trip that was SUPPOSED TO CHEER HER UP. The daughter gets fed up with this and runs off where the father follows suit. The daughter expresses her fears of abandonment to her father and asks him if he is really going to leave her in favor of that imp. The father says no, realizing his mistake and assures her that he’ll never leave her and decides to take her to a place she actually enjoys as a way to make up for that…

…and then cut to 17 episodes later where the daughter then witnesses her father THROWING HIS LIFE AWAY ON LIVE TELEVISION FOR AN IMP. He told her that he would never leave her, that he wouldn’t chose that imp over her…and he does that with no hesitation. Without even telling her. Octavia doesn’t know shit about whatever close relationship Blitz and Stolas have, to her, Blitz is just some random nobody imp that Stolas is for some reason horny over.

And this effectively cements to Octavia that, she doesn’t matter to her father. He really would choose an imp over her. Sinmass further drives this home with a heart breaking song Octavia sings that offers as a dark reprise of you will be okay, as Octavia sings about her resentment and heart break over her father betraying her trust, for LYING to her. She says she’ll never be the same now and fully accepts the fact that Stolas cares more about Blitz than her. And she then finds out that Stolas was taking anti-depressant pills, making her believe that she was just nothing but a burden, an obligation to Stolas this whole time.

If she wasn’t, why would he leave her without hesitation? It’s infuriating to me how the one time the show has good writting the fandom STILL makes insane arguments trying to defend Stolas.

Is Stolas allowed to form other relationships outside of Octavia? Yea, he is, but that’s not the issue. The issue is that Stolas was placing those new relationships above his old ones, he chose Blitz over Octavia, his daughter, his FAMILY.

”probably called her a million times” actually we saw him call once and Octavia was happy to answer until Stella wouldn’t let her, taking Octavia’s phone and mocking Stolas for trying to call her. Octavia doesn’t see the whole picture because SHE DOESNT HAVE THE WHOLE PICTURE! Stolas never communicated ANYTHING to her, not about what was going on between him and Stella, and not about his relationship with Blitz. Stolas didn’t give Octavia ANY information about what was going on and guess what? Seeing Stars and Sinmass show the exact consequences of that.

In Seeing Stars Octavia runs away to try and see the stars for herself because Stolas was focusing more on arguing with Stella than her, which leads Octavia to thinking that Stolas hates Stella more than he loves her, and she wouldn’t have started believing that IF STOLAS COMMUNICATED AND TOLD HER ABOUT THE ABUSE DURING OF THEIR MARRIAGE. Therefore she would be more understanding.

And in Sinmas, If Stolas ever explained to Octavia at any point in the show the full context of his relationship with Blitz, that would, at the very least, make Octavia understand his decision. Yet he never did. Octavia doesn’t have the full context for ANY of these situations because Stolas for SOME REASON never communicated to her.

And can people just fuck off with the whole “omg Octavia is such an immature/selfish teenager!” BECAUSE SHES NOT!! She’s not being a bratty, emotional teen for *checks notes* wanting attention from her father. Sinsmas is legitimately one of the best episodes of season 2 because it actually addresses Stolas acts as a father and calls him out for it, creating drama that doesn’t feel artificial for once and ends up being a step in the right direction for both Stolas AND Octavia as characters. But it’s sad to me that some people still miss blatantly obvious details like this.

Octavia is not a bratty teenager having a tantrum, she’s a girl that had her life turned upside down and is suffering through a divorce. I wish most of the fandom would actually see that.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

I would die for your writing.

I've also noticed that your Dick and Kory requests the darling seems to be fairly relaxed about being kidnapped. How do you think Dick and Kory would handle a more violently resist darling that does not go gentle into the night and instead kicking and biting and screaming?

Yandere Nightwing x reader x yandere Starfire

The struggle is furious—fueled by desperation and the sheer will to escape. Every muscle in your body strains against their hold, but it’s no use. No matter how hard you kick, scream, or thrash, their grasp only tightens. The room feels suffocating as Kory’s arms coil around you, her strength unmatched, and her presence like a heat that wraps you in its embrace, making it nearly impossible to get away.

You try to twist, to get one last move in, but Kory’s hand comes down on your back with gentle, but firm pressure, forcing you further into her grasp. “Sweetheart,” she murmurs, her voice so soft and warm, but there’s a dangerous edge beneath the tenderness. “Please, stop fighting. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Your heart beats faster with fury at the tone in her voice, the way she says it like it’s a plea. You won’t be subdued—not like this. You won’t be so easily tamed.

“Let me go!” You scream, thrashing your head side to side as you bite down on the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the dizzying effects of the warmth of their bodies pressing into yours. You kick harder, harder, harder, your foot landing against her thigh. You don’t care if it hurts; you can feel the sweat running down your back, the rawness in your throat from the screams you can’t silence.

But Kory doesn’t flinch. Her skin is warm, inviting, as she holds you, pressing you even closer, but the gentleness she exudes only seems to make your blood burn hotter with defiance.

Dick’s voice cuts through the chaos, low and dark, with that smooth, calming undertone that you’ve come to dread. “Keep resisting, my love,” he says, his voice thick with an unsettling admiration. You feel his hands slide into your hair, pulling you back slightly, his fingers sinking into your scalp like they belong there. The control in his touch is undeniable, and though you recoil instinctively, you can’t escape the feeling that he’s getting exactly what he wants.

“fuck you!” you grunt, fighting against him, but it’s as though your body has betrayed you. Your muscles are exhausted, your strength draining faster than you’d like to admit. Still, you refuse to give in. “I won’t let you do this to me!– Let me go! ”

Dick’s lips curl upward as if your defiance is exactly what he’s been waiting for. “You think you can win this fight, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice a dark whisper, the intimacy of the word sending a shiver down your spine. “You think your fight means something?”

Your breath hitches, and the sound you make in response is half-sob, half-scream as you wrench your wrists from his grasp, but he doesn’t let go. His fingers tighten, and your body jerks against the restraint, but his touch is like iron, and the fight slips away from you with each passing second.

“You’re mine,” he breathes, but there’s no cruelty in his tone. It’s a fact. Simple. Quiet. As if there’s no question about it. “And you’ll learn that soon enough.”

His words should terrify you, but the certainty in them feels like the world spinning on its axis—a world where there is no room for rebellion, for escape. You resist with what little you have left, thrashing in their arms, but your body starts to fail you. Your strength is drained, your breath ragged, and the space between your thoughts begins to thicken, every motion growing heavier than the last.

“I won’t stop!” you shout, gasping for air, the last remnants of your fight still alive in your chest. “I’ll never stop.”

Kory’s soft, silky laughter fills your ears like a lullaby, and it sends a cold thrill through your spine. “My love,” she breathes, her fingers stroking through your hair as if it’s the most delicate thing in the world. The sweetness in her tone—so soft, so affectionate—doesn’t match the cold steel in her eyes. “You don’t have to keep fighting. You’re only hurting yourself.” Her words are like poison dressed in sweetness, her hold tightening, not with malice, but with something far more terrifying—care.

Her lips brush against your temple, and you feel her soft breath against your skin, the sensation like a drug you didn’t ask for. “Shh, sweetheart,” she murmurs again, pressing you closer. “You’re not in danger. We only want to love you. Please, stop. We’ll make it easy for you.”

But you know they’re not giving you any choice. You’re theirs, whether you want to be or not.

A sudden, sharp sting pricks your neck, and the world tilts as something cold and uninvited seeps into your bloodstream. Your eyes widen, and you turn to glare at Dick, who’s still standing behind you, the needle in his hand nearly invisible in the dim light. “What did you do?” you whisper, heart thudding with a sudden sense of betrayal.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dick croons, his fingers tracing your jawline like you’re a fragile thing. The tenderness in his voice doesn’t reach his eyes—they’re cold, calculating. He’s watching you, enjoying the slow unraveling of your resistance. “You just need to calm down. Just a little something to help you relax.”

But it’s not relaxing. The drug courses through your veins like ice, seeping into your muscles, dulling the fire in your chest, making everything heavy, slower. Your body refuses to move at your command, and even the smallest of efforts to break free feels like fighting through thick mud. Your breath comes in short bursts, a desperate rasp that you can barely control.

“No,” you whisper, your head spinning. “No, I won’t...” But the words feel distant, disconnected from the rapid beat of your heart, from the way your limbs begin to feel heavy, as though they belong to someone else.

Kory’s voice is gentle, soothing now, but there’s a finality to it, a certainty. “You’re so strong,” she murmurs, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. Her fingers brush against your cheek, soft and insistent. “But you’ve done enough. Rest now, darling. It’s all over.”

You want to scream, to shout at her, to claw your way out of this twisted, suffocating embrace. But the drug pulls the words from your throat before they can form, and all you can do is breathe in the thick, stifling air. You’re still conscious, still aware, but your body refuses to comply. It’s like being trapped inside your own skin, screaming without sound.

“Don’t you understand, sweetheart?” Dick’s voice cuts through the haze, as smooth as it is unsettling. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead, the kiss so soft it feels like a brand against your skin. “You’re with us now. Forever.”

His words are a promise, but they feel more like a curse. The weight of them presses down on you, heavier than the drug, heavier than the exhaustion seeping into your bones. You struggle to keep your eyes open, but the darkness is creeping in from the edges of your vision, and soon everything goes black.

(A/n: tbh I WOULD absolutely fold for them like c'monnn there's no need for Kory and dick to kidnap me, they could just take me whenever they want :))

–––TAGLIST

@lilyalone

I forgot about the taglist Mb😭

[tomwaterbabies]

disneyland happenings

featuring varian and hugo. since thats what our costumes were

^(us trying to be very spooky) (there is a lot below btw lol)

someone asking if i (dressed as hugo) was from atlantis. surprisingly this only happened once

we went to kingdom hearts mickey first bc that was gonna be a popular one the rest of the night. the idea of varian in kingdom hearts is definitely really funny. i do not go here im just being honest

OH. new addition to the costume. i had olivia with me as a shoulder friend

met bruno from encanto who commented on her. we talked about our rodent friends he was very nice. he said he brought "all 200" of his rats with him and wanted to help feed them and knows mickey is a big mouse so maybe we could ask him. i said we could just steal some food. varian got mad

went over to see sid from toy story because he seemed like a mean little bitch. he was a mean little bitch. i may have said that his creations could use a little work but thats no reason for him to say "your mouse needs a little work" and "i hope you kept the receipt".... cunt

laughing about how mother gothel was no longer part of the characters to meet. "they killed her forever this time" etc etc

watching the parade and varian almost jumping out of his skin when mother gothel was in the parade. her ghost

we went to this thing called villain's grove which was a bunch of light and effects n stuff through their little forest area. it was mostly a cool immersive experience so most of the footage is on the Lights And Effects Themselves but here's a few of us that look cool lol. gay tunnel (maybe not) (that segment was themed after frollo)

met hans from frozen. we absolutely had no clue he was going to be there it was pretty funny. you may guess that my friend @kristoffs-lullaby (varian cosplayer) is a frozen enjoyer. so we hopped in line to see him

hans asked if varian's alchemy balls were some sort of magic or enchantment and you'll Never guess what varian responded with

though explaining its alchemy and science and all that didnt really make him feel better. he even asked if its something that would be in danger of bringing in an "eternal winter". varian did not like that :)

saw dr. doofenshmirtz (?) i didnt watch that show. he was pretty fun to meet though. i know some people dont like his creepy ass design, but i do, its fun and weird to me. he wanted to collaborate with me and varian since we're scientists. really funny to have him say "i'll have my people call your people". a possible strange message that rapunzel will get later /j

also encountered hades. though our friend @iammisswow was with us and so i had him focus on her since shes a big hercules fan. the visual was hugo getting this scary man's attention to be put on someone else by calling her out. it worked obviously. "oh SHE is a HUGE fan of hercules"

madam mim from sword in the stone didnt really have as big of a crowd so we actually talked with her a pretty good amount. shes SO fun. lots of discussion about magic vs science and how she thinks knowledge is stupid. you can imagine how we of all people felt when she said "KNOWLEDGE is not power, MAGIC is power". she also liked olivia (she thought she was a familiar)

meeting judge doom from roger rabbit was kind of scary LOL. very intimidating man. but his area had vats of chemicals and all that so you can imagine we had fun with that. WE can be trusted. obviously.

nervously just nodding our heads as judge doom tells us to come to him if we have any information regarding where "that rabbit is" (we are not doing that)

and also we saw ernesto de la cruz from coco. we were actually able to catch him right as he started performing which is rad but i dont actually have any interactions to tell u about here it was bad ass though

and, unbeknownst to Hugo (as in i also didnt know about this), varian had a surprise for him. he had a whole... horribly genuine and flustery spiel to say about messing around in his lab and all that and made something for hugo. which was a necklace with a piece of colored glass-like material (teal) in the shape of a heart. hugo handled that whole situation really well (lie)

ANYWAYS ! that's it. i've mentioned before but Disneyland Trips will be retired really soon since I'm not too fond of a lot of their wack shit right now, but wanted to share some of the last bit of enjoyable times to be had there before that happens

[xitsensunmoon]

Hi Xits! It's so nice to see you on my dashboard again :DDD

I have a few questions about your boys if you don't mind answering them (and if you can/want obv):

1) Will y/n mend their clothes at some point? Or buy the same but new outfits?

2) (dunno if it's been answered before, probably yes but-) do they need to charge in addition to drinking blood or is charging like what would be normal eating for a human-then-vampire? (They can but it doesn't do much to relieve their hunger?)

3) I remember in one of your old comics (and yes I'm still thinking about it) Sun warned y/n to stay away from Moon during one of his episodes (virus induced? Starvation? Virus induced hunger??? Mmhh) How frequently do they happen? Does Sun have similar moments? And if he does who's gonna tell y/n? I don't feel like Moon would care much about their safety at the beginning...what if they both have one at the same time?

4) do they smell the scent of blood or do they detect it like how in fanfic the dca can detect injuries and heart rate?

5) do they want to return to "normal"? Can they return to normal?  (how did they get like that in the first place. I'm still looking 👁️👁️)

7) how old are they? How many years have passed from their daycare time? How would they react if someone mentioned the topic? do you have some of your (delicious) angst at hand?

8) are there others like them? 🌚

9) moon can sing. Why he not sing. Me want moon sing.

10) they have access to a PC and internet. What do they do online? Do they try to interact with others? Do they play games? If yes, what genre do they like?

And last but not least: how was your day? Did you have nice holidays? :D

Sorry for the long ask but I might return (eventually) with more questions >:)))

Hi!!! Haven't seen you in so long!

1. It is a bit difficult to find something- anything- that will fit them, so the only thing they can do is properly fix the clothes they have. So yes, you definitely will end up taking care of their outfits and even spend a bit of time to teach Sun and Moon how to take care of them themselves.

2. Oh they wish they could renew their energy by charging.

3. All I can say as of now, the "episode" has happened because of Moon's own negligence, what exactly has happened is yet to be discussed.

4. They smell the blood, but not in the exact same way human sense of smell works. It is more of its own separate sense, disturbance in the force if you will haha. The word "feel" would fit a bit better. Like humans can feel change in temperature, they can feel blood... even if it's in a vessel.

5. :)

6. It's been less than a decade.

7. Not that they know of...

8. His lullabies were always reserved for people he cares about, when he's happy or peaceful. None of these things are the case as of now :(

9. They prefer to limit their Internet activity to a minimum, for their own reasons. But if they do use it, only as observers. And to play offline games. Like Stardew walley. They fight over it a lot. Sun even has a little notebook where he keeps quite detailed notes on how to "properly and more effectively" play the game. Moon wants to flush that thing down the drain so badly...

And as for me - I'm unfortunately spending my holidays sick<///3 I had some very tasty food tho jsjsj hope yours are better!!

Also I love long asks!! Especially when I know I can give an answer hehe. Do return :)

[ninibeingdelulu]

"Ah, my beloved wife"

plot- you love your husband’s caresses CLICK ME

Your eyes drifted open and closed lazily in that deliciously hazy space between wakefulness and slumber.

The quiet crackling of the fireplace filled the cozy bedroom with a soothing ambiance of gentle warmth and hushed tranquility.

Kento's solid, reassuring presence radiated all around you as you burrowed deeper into the plush haven of his lap - his sturdy frame reclined against the ornate oak headboard.

The soothing scent of sandalwood and inky parchment from the ancient tome cradled in his large, calloused palms enveloped you like a tender embrace.

To the tranquil lullaby of the fire's languid popping and the occasional crinkle of paper when he turned a page, you felt your overworked body surrendering inch by glorious inch into total relaxation.

Particularly when Kento's free hand found its way into your tousled tresses, calloused fingertips kneading away the lingering tension behind your temples with firm, circular sweeps.

A low, wordless hum of pure bliss rumbled up unbidden from the back of your throat.

You practically melted into a boneless puddle against his inner thigh - any remaining traces of the week's tedious demands dissolving beneath the gentle, reverent worship of your husband's touch.

Kento's chest vibrated with a quiet chuckle at your unguarded response, momentarily distracting your blissed-out daze. You frowned faintly, brow furrowing as his clever digits reluctantly receded from carding through those silky strands so he could turn the page properly.

The brief reprieve in his ministrations had you shifting with a petulant little whine escaping before you could catch it.

Thankfully, Kento swiftly capped the moment of protest by smoothing that roughened palm along the curve of your cheek with a tender murmur.

"So demanding this evening, my darling..."

His rich timbre cascaded over your senses in warm, velvety waves as he leaned in to dust a fond kiss across your forehead.

"Almost makes me wonder if I married a puppy rather than my beloved wife."

You cracked open one eye in a belabored show of indignation, peering up at him through a smoky fan of lashes with the full force of your most pitiful pout.

But Kento simply laughed again in good-natured exasperation before settling back against the cushioned oak - effectively cradling you firmly against his chest as he resumed those heavenly strokes along your scalp.

"Easy now, easy..." he chided playfully, scratching blunt nails in soothing circles that instantly unwound the tension knotting your furrowed brow.

"I wouldn't dream of neglecting the pampering someone as precious as you deserves for even a second."

A dazed, contented hum slipped past your lips as you nuzzled further into that welcome cocoon of sturdy, masculine warmth.

Eyes fluttering shut once more as your consciousness grew cottony and distant beyond the encompassing refuge of his fervent embrace.

So close you could've sworn your erratic heartbeats gradually melded into a singular, languid pulse bound up in the sacred ritual of giving and receiving wholehearted devotion with the most extraordinary man you'd ever known.

Even after all these years, nothing would ever make you feel as fiercely loved, protected, and alive as the simple privilege of basking in Kento's reverent adoration.

Body, mind, heart and soul so thoroughly saturated in his boundless care that no lingering burdens or doubts could help but disperse into ash on the wings of your shared sanctuary.

Where not even the cruel outside world could encroach - only the rhythm of midnight promises shared between souls ascendant in blissful rapture under the merciful spell of reciprocal love.

[swallowtail-lotus]

🔱Secret Lullaby {Poseidon x Goddess!Reader}🔱

Repost of my original post from my old blog.

God, just looking at him makes me want to kiss him 😍

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat in the middle of your greenhouse, patting a small bunny that hopped in your lap. You watched the past few rounds of ragnarok with sad eyes, feeling dread inside.

Being the God/Goddess of peace wasn't easy.

You love humans and everything on Earth, as it is your home. Before you went to Valhalla, you used to live in a forest where no human dared to set foot in unless If they wanted a death wish.

Of course, you never brought harm to humans but you eventually left after Zeus found you and offered you to live with the gods.

Being the secretive being you are, you agreed but only if no deity disturbs you when you wanted to be left alone and to never let them know of your secret place.

So far, no God or Goddess has ever found your greenhouse. Even if they bothered to try, they couldn't find it. This was due to one of your masking spells, which was more effective to deities compared to the humans.

Thinking back on how the gods have tried to get answers out of you, but failed due to your ability to slip away fast enough. Those thoughts escalated to your past, where you were once filled with joy.

With your mother, who had lost her life to another God.

"I miss you, mother. So very much."

You thought, wiping away tears that slowly trickled down your face. You looked down at the bunny, who looked up and sat up. It leaned against your chest, trying to lean its face towards yours. You lifted the small bunny up and felt its face nuzzle yours, an attempt to cheer you up.

"Ah, thank you. I feel better now."

You cooed softly, patting its head with a sad smile. You felt something nudge your leg, something hard. You leaned forward to see a small harp near your right foot and a grey bunny pushing it towards your foot.

You held your hand over the harp, watching it levitate towards your hand. The grey bunny hopped on your right leg, nuzzling your waist while the white bunny copied the grey bunny.

"Such cuties."

You mumbled softly, watching them get comfortable on your lap and stopped to lay down. Your fingers hovered over the strings of your harp, slightly shaking from the sadness building up.

"Hope you're hearing this, mother..."

You muttered under your breath, strumming your harp slowly. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drown in the melodic music from your strumming. You opened your lips to sing quietly.

Soon, the animals in your greenhouse started to gather around, watching and listening to your voice. Then, the plants started swaying slowly to the music. At the end of the lullaby, a voice brought you out of your thoughts.

"What are you doing?"

Your eyes shot open at the sudden voice, growing wider when you saw who it was.

It was none other than Poseidon, the Sea God himself.

You stared at the God before you, internally panicking, mainly about how he knew of your greenhouse. You placed the harp down nervously, fiddling with your fingers.

"I-I was just playing a lullaby. Umm, how did you find my greenhouse?"

You squeaked out, feeling yourself shrink smaller when the God took a few steps forward, not too close to you.

"... It wasn't hard to follow you. I've known for a long time."

He answered, his emotionless face along with his voice sending chills down your spine. You knew very well he never speaks much to any being, even to his brothers. So him speaking to you now of all times baffled you. Truth be told, he has spoke to you more times than anyone else. But hearing him ask about your main hobby was strange.

The reason behind that was most likely because you were a Ruler, the Ruler of Nature.

"So you have. Never expected less from you, of course."

You spoke, gripping your clothes so tightly. Poseidon raised his eyebrows slightly, his shoulders dropping.

"....."

He kept silent, staring down at you with his dull eyes. Your head was down, but you knew he was staring. The sound of his boots clicking away got your attention. You held the bunnies close to you, standing up from your seat.

"See you, Lord Poseidon."

You whispered. Poseidon stopped at the entrance of your greenhouse, giving you the side eye glance.

".... Goodbye."

Those was the last words he let out before leaving. You stood in silence, a confused look on your face.

"What just happened?"

[ddarker-dreams]

ahem. please consider the following concept because it's been making me lose my mind:

before your paths crossed, the mara that afflicted yan blade had a fluid form, shifting at will. it utilized a wide range of ingredients to serve him torments made to order. while effective, his mara wasn't content to reuse the same old parlor tricks. a certain spice was lacking. one that when shoved down his throat, would eviscerate him from the inside out. however, when you entered the picture, its pièce de résistance could finally be presented on a silver platter.

all along, you've been the missing flavor, as you alone can inflict a mortal wound upon an undying man. it considers you a muse. now, it assumes your likeness when delivering jeering taunts or wicked temptations. your voice echoes in his head. crooning, at first, like the first notes of a lullaby. to him, your voice represents warmth. the sole connection he sees any value in maintaining. his mara knows this and preys on it.

when he teeters on the brink of madness, it's you he sees, radiant and untarnished by the viscera he wades in.

"look at you," this false prophet hums, using your tone and cadence. "this is all you're good for, isn't it? hurting others, i mean."

not you, he'd think. a futile rebuttal.

'you' laugh, your eyes gleaming with unbridled malice. "not me? all you've done is hurt me. just changed your methods, is all. you've taken my happiness, my future... i'd rather you use your sword and get it over with."

the edges of blade's vision turn red. this isn't you, this isn't you, but it might as well. and does that not make it worse? for an apparition to steal the words you're too afraid to tell him?

"not an apparition," 'you' correct. "i'm all you're guaranteed."

he's becoming someone he isn't — or, worse — something he'll never not be.

...

when kafka finds him in the aftermath, slathered in gore, she muses that the blood will wash off, but 'your' influence won't. his mara recedes, grinning with satisfaction from knowing it'll always come back.

[rayroseu]

Rambles about Book 7 lol

AAAAAAAÀAAA 😭😭😭 THIS IS SO AUGHHH THE MEANING BEHIND THIS INFO !!!!!! knowing that the first thought of Lilia in encountering Silver was that he should kill him to avenge Meleanor and Levan and that his purpose of adopting him is that he wants to believe he can love a human as well AND LILIA TEACHING THIS HUMAN BABY HOW TO LIVE DESPITE THE MANY CHANCES HE GOT TO GET RID OF HIM AUGJAURIWUTJW AND MAY I SAY LILIA WENT FROM DISTANTLY BEING ATTACHED TO THIS BABY AND THEN TRANSITIONING UNTO WANTING FOR HIM TO LIVE AND WITNESS HIM GROW UP AAAAAAA😭😭✨✨✨

IF I CRYYYY MELEANOR HAUNTS THE NARRATIVE 😭💞💕💞✨

LMAO not the faes snitching this info to malleus ofmg 😭✨

lowkey this is me as well i think babies are kinda ugly too KDHJAEJ especially when they cry 💀🔥🔥

YOU CALL THIS ADORABLE HELPPPP 🤣🤣🤣okay but in all seriousness, we rarely get this easy sarcastic Malleus, he's always too formal around NRC and often his humor lands amiss to other charas which doesnt prompt him to present this trait, but its so sweet that he seemed to be "truly himself" in the cottage scenes where its just him Lilia and Silver🥺✨ his voice doesnt feel "authoritative" too like a dorm leader, its just malleus and his difficulty in getting along with the random baby lilia caught lol

I remember this line was translated as a flower nectar?? but they kinda saying the same and i like this paraphrase that Lilia thinks of Milk as nectar for baby humans, like how Malleus often relates tech to some magical ritual lol

crying at this line, knowing that Malleus says this because he has broken several many things bcs he couldnt control his strength and perhaps there were things that Lilia owns that he accidentally destroyed as well so he tries to mend this uncontrollable strength of his in order to not be an inconvenience😭✨

NURSEMAID???? YEAH NURSEMAID CALLED LILIA VANROUGE 😭😭💔💔💔 and AAAAA not once did Malleus search for this tune??? not even sing it to Maleficia and Lilia so as to inquire about it 😭✨💔💔 this is when you know this lullaby IS truly MELEANOR'S LULLABY because everyone of the characters only heard it from her !!!😭😭😭💔💔

I love this response from Malleus lol, also i feel like some situation will challenge Lilia's love for humans again, like can you still love humans if they commit the same crime again to Malleus as they did with Meleanor?? Twisting their personality and actions so as to validate their fear?? Can you still say that faes should make an effort to make peace with them when repeatedly it was the humans who wasnt willing to udnerstand faes to begin with ? 😭✨ its a realistic worry fitting for a king that'll rule for centuries, maybe bcs he has this instinct that humans are epehemeral and so are their promises.

Thinking about it a bit more, its true that what Levan does is futile effort because the issue between humans and faes, Briarland and Silver Owls is too much that it cant be resolved by just understanding each other.

Levan wants the war to stop but obviously that can't happen because the bigger factions of each natioj are resolute at their stance that Briarland is owned by faes or humans, no in between. He can't immediately fix the mentality of higher faes and Meleanor with their hatred of humans and vice versa with the human officials like Henric,

but what he can do to decrease the casualties of this conflict is to pave way for the COMMON folk to understand each other, if he can make way for the common fae and the common human to talk to each other, then it might decrease the misunderstanding between the common fae and common human (assuming that both parties arw willing to be understanding)

its really a long shot and a gamble to aspire for considering his country's situation, and its effects would take a while to impact and honestly it took so much important people and years just to have his dream of peace, i wish we could get an input about what he feels about this

considering his kindness he might be happy, but im kinda sad its really tragic the implication of how the faes had to earn their peace and atone for a conflict that they didnt even start with,

based on Lilia, it took 400 YEARS just for the humans to sign a peace treaty, maybe in the eyes of the faes, thats just a piece of paper, so they waited and grieved the lost of their Princess Meleanor and many of their fae soldiers and Prince Levan and ALMOST the entirety of their continent, just for these humans to sign an 400 year long overdued peace treaty?? so the faes that died couldve been saved if these humans could spare some compassion and ink to sign a treaty-- It kinda feels like they're insulting their grief (in the faes point of view atleast), whats the purpose of having this paper peace treaty when they have lost so much already?? I WISHHH the story could delve more into the grief of faes,

kinda lowkey mad they just swept Lilia's grief by the humans just cuz he encountered a few good ones, i wouldve love to see him being vengeful then learning how to convert that grief to love again just like Maleficent in the live action, bcs it would be very meaningful on this way, Lilia can truly say he has learned how to love because he experienced real deep hatred---but AAA its whatever this storyline is good as well, just kinda feels general lilia's belief converted to present!lilia a bit too fast to my liking lol

its really intriguing how before book 7 the faes dislike of humans seems so dramatic but now after book 7 it all makes too much sense 😭✨

(can you guys tell i play too much reverse 1999 bcs i ramble too much about morals and politics between different races now JHDJWHRJW)

[monster-kind]

grasps you. tell me your softest sweetest headcanon with baggs. pretty please (if you wanna <3)

I feel like... i feel like Baggs is really good at lullabies. of course he can just use hypnosis flat out to get you to sleep but there's something so soft about singing someone to sleep. and with the magic that tinges his voice, I'm sure his own lullabies are especially effective. And while he lacks the ability to sleep its also probably very important that you, who he cares for dearly, gets enough rest. He's probably so gentle with you as he leads you to dreams. it's also probably really nice to just listen to him lull you to sleep with stories and things he finds interesting as well...

(sorry this ended up kinda baggs/reader, oopsie)

[bardic-inspo]

Time Well Spent

Pairing: Astarion x Evelyn (Named Tav)

Rating: Mature

Key Tags: Holiday traditions, silly fic, fluff, a tiny touch of angst, overtures of future dadstarion

Summary:

“The Winter Solstice is a vampire’s favorite day,” Astarion drawls, fingers stroking pleasantly through her hair. With her ear settled near his sternum, his voice is a lulling, gentle lullaby.  “Do you know why?” “Hm,” Evelyn says, struggling against a yawn. “Because it’s the shortest one?” “Clever girl,” he purrs. “The shortest day. And the longest night.”

Astarion means to make the very most of his solstice spent with Evelyn.

A/N: A server secret santa gift for the ever-lovely @nyx-knox, who is a daily inspiration and a wonderful friend! The Tav (Evelyn) in this fic is hers. I hope I did her justice! Occurs sometime after the final battle with the Netherbrain, and/or in a dream if it better suits Evelyn’s story. :)

Also: Imposing American Christmas traditions on Faerun's solstice for funsies.

ALSO: Huge credit to my wonderful husband for helping me find direction with this fic, and for offering silly (and effective) solutions whenever I got stuck.

Click here to read on AO3 instead

“Well, well,” Astarion smirks with a self-satisfied sway of his hips. “We’re nearly there, aren’t we? Only one more sleep away.”

He looks like sun-kissed marble with the glow of the hearth soaking over his sculpted chest and lining the rest of his bare, stunning figure. 

Evelyn sprawls on the chaise where he left her, still panting with the aftermath of their pleasure. A wayward shiver shudders down her naked spine. Even though her lover may be cool to the touch, he has a way of melting the sharp edges of the cold into something pleasant. Something soothing. Like a dip into a cool pond, his embrace brings a weightless calm she’s come to crave. Without him, the chill has teeth that not even the crackling fire can dull.

Six chimes call out across the city, echoing through the walls of their private suite in the Elfsong. The sun will rise in another hour or so. Astarion pulls the curtains closed over the frosted window, sealing them off from the snow and wind whistling against the panes.

“O-Oh?” Evelyn gasps, teeth chattering. “I never knew you were the festive type, Astarion.”

She was sure that this sojourn to the surface, as Astarion called it, was all for her sake. She’d seen the pitying look on his face when Gale’s transmutation scroll arrived in their Underdark settlement. Evelyn had all but run to the nearest towering mushroom, eyes alight with glee as the spell swapped it for an evergreen. Maybe it was her use of frayed rope as garland that compelled him to humor her. Or, the ‘tree’ shedding all of its needles only a day later.

Although they have a supply line to the surface, Evelyn would hardly strain their resources for extra sugar and flour to celebrate a season that doesn’t even really reach the persistent humidity of their Underdark home. Nevermind the fact that none of the other residents of their settlement could enjoy sugar cut-out cookies or other festive delicacies. Vampire spawn don’t care for caramel and cinnamon. Though, she knows a few who would settle for a good spiced wine.

One such vampire stands before her with such an earnest sparkle in his eye. His excitement sets her heart skipping. Perhaps this visit is as much for Astarion as it is for her. They hadn’t made firm plans, other than seeing Baldur’s Gate steeped in snowfall. But she’s intimately acquainted with the mischief lifting her lover’s perfect lips.

Astarion turns to her again, his smile softening in sympathy. He plucks the plush blanket pooled on the floor where they left it. Spent and shivering as she is, she can’t help the fresh heat that sweeps her brow at the sight of him, lithe and licked in light and shadow, sauntering over to her with an effortless elegance. A low chuckle rumbles in Astarion’s chest as he slips behind her on the chaise and shrouds them both in the blanket.

“It’s not just any holiday, darling,” he hums, sighing contentedly into her hair.

“Enlighten me,” she says, snuggling against his chest. A serene sigh leaks from her lips as she settles.

“The Winter Solstice is a vampire’s favorite day,” Astarion drawls, fingers stroking pleasantly through her hair. With her ear settled near his sternum, his voice is a lulling, gentle lullaby.  “Do you know why?”

“Hm,” Evelyn says, struggling against a yawn. “Because it’s the shortest one?”

“Clever girl,” he purrs. “The shortest day. And the longest night.”

His scent of brandy, bergamot, and rosemary tingles against her nose. They could be anywhere, and it would still be home, so long as the smell of him still surrounds her. Her eyes grow heavy, gradually slipping shut.

“Sleep well, my little sorceress,” he whispers, sealing the sentiment with a tender kiss atop her head. “We’ve quite the night ahead of us, after all.”

Sleep claims her before she can ponder the promise brimming in his words. 

And all too quickly, her dreams are snatched away by familiar hands. Astarion’s touch is firmer this time. He nudges her side insistently.

“Wake up, little sorceress,” Astarion hums in her ear. “We’ve a solstice to celebrate!”

Evelyn groans groggily, turning to tuck back into the covers. She stiffens to the sound of a throat clearing -- one not so near as her lover.

“And,” the warm but stern voice says pointedly, “an old friend to say ‘hello’ to, in addition to a very hearty ‘thank you’. Though, the latter is Astarion’s burden to bear. I have the sense this was hardly your idea, Evelyn.”

Evelyn clutches the quilt for dear life, eyes ripping open to see--

“Gale?!” She blurts.

Sure enough, the wizard stands at the foot of the bed, clad in violet, fur-lined robes, with fresh snowflakes still wetting his windswept hair. Evelyn’s heart leaps. Perhaps this is what Astarion was alluded to -- a surprise solstice reunion with old comrades!

“I’ve already paid you your thanks, wizard,” Astarion says with a scowl. “And it seems it was for naught at all!”

Gale sighs wearily, muttering intelligible words beneath his breath. It sounds an awful lot like a curse, but when he raises his hands, the spell furling between them carries a gentle warmth.

“Astarion!” Evelyn laughs, the flutter of magic brushing her skin with a fleeting, greenish glow. “What’s going on?”

He leans his head against her shoulder. The plaintive pout of his lower lip banishes any inkling she had of chiding his rudeness.

“We’ve only so much nighttime to spend, even on the longest one,” he says earnestly. He fidgets with the sheets bunched in his fist. “I mean to make the very most of our evening together, darling.”

Evelyn huffs softly, but she can’t fight the grin from her cheeks, not with the tentative one creeping over Astarion’s.

“I cast longstrider on you both,” Gale clarifies. “It will help speed you through your festivities. I understand you’ve a lot of them to attend to. I’m less certain Astarion has grasped the concept of quality over quantity.”

He drifts towards the door. Evelyn sits up, still swaddled in the sheets. Melancholy spikes in her chest, the closer her friend slips towards the door.

“Wait!” She sputters. “Gale, I haven’t seen you in ages! Can’t you stay for--”

“No, he cannot!” Astarion interjects. “We've got things to do, darling! Gabbing with Gale is not on the list!”

Evelyn’s jaw drops. The list is literal. Astarion brandishes a curled parchment from his breast pocket. She’d scarcely registered that he’s fully dressed -- and rather handsomely, in a deep burgundy day coat with black trousers. But her admiration is put on hold as her attention sticks to the scroll unfurling down the side of the bed and rolling halfway to the door. Dimly, she recognizes bits of Astatrion’s script: snow angels, sugar cookies, plum pie, mistletoe, hot chocolate...

She blinks, dumbfounded. “You made plans? You made…all of those plans?”

“What can I say?” He preens. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Including getting Gale to come all the way from Waterdeep so he can make us walk faster?” Evelyn giggles in disbelief.

“And getting him out of our hair after,” Astarion says with a pointed side-eye. The wizard in question shuffles sheepishly for the door.

“Don’t you worry,” Gale groans. “I won’t take up any more of your precious time. Tonight, at least. I expect to see you both tomorrow for supper, or I should consider your debt unpaid!”

“Good!” Astarion smirks, once their friend has taken his leave. “And good riddance! We’re already late to see the lights!”

Without warning, Astarion snatches the sheets, with Evelyn still twined in them, and tugs them towards the edge of the bed. She shrieks as she’s taken overboard, pouring onto the floor with breathless laughter. 

Astarion peers down at her, his face haloed in silver curls. “Do get dressed, dear,” he says, his reproach softened with a smug smile. 

For a moment, she’s mesmerized. But something tugs on the back of her mind; his coat matches his eyes so brilliantly. And his smile doesn’t reach them.

Evelyn emerges into the nipping night air. The street is alive with glowing lanterns, simmering like coals in deep, velvet dark of only four chimes past noon. Her breath clouds in front of her, mingling in the air with the warm scent of cider and spice. Snow lines the avenues, coating the rooftops in a sugary shimmer. The crunch it gives underfoot makes her think of crumbling wafer cookies. 

Hauling every layer they had with them turned out to be a worthwhile effort; her hat, scarf, and boots stave off the worst of the cold from her extremities. The mysterious, fur-lined frock coat she found among her other garments doesn’t hurt, either. It’s the same winey red as Astarion’s, with a stark white fur on the inside so soft, she could melt into it. Fondly, she traces the holly-leaf embroidery across her shoulders with a gloved hand. Astarion hastily snatches it. Evelyn raises a brow as Astarion clutches it tightly, planting a chaste kiss to the leather on her knuckles.

Without warning, he starts off down the street at a jog, his hand still locked with hers, and Evelyn helpless but to follow.

“Astarion! What exactly are we running f-- I -- oh!”

A fizzing sound tears past them. Evelyn tracks the noise, craning her neck up to see dazzling, silver sparks streaking through the sky.

“The lights, darling,” Astarion coos in her ear. Her eyelids flutter to the drag of her lips along its slightly angled edge. The soft sound gives way to a frustrated groan as they come to a crowd clogging the avenue. Evelyn strains, standing on tippy-toes to peer past heads and hats to catch a glimpse of the spiralling magic flaring somewhere in front of them.

“Oh, forget this,” Astarion mutters. “Come on!”

He leads her around the edges of the audience. Her excitement spikes as they duck into a narrow alley and she sees what he intends. Effortlessly, he scales the brick walls to reach the folded ladder on a balcony above. With a few nimble flourishes, the ladder drops down to where she waits. She takes the rungs to the top, and takes Astarion’s hand again once she’s there. With a mischievous grin, he pulls her up above the balcony and onto the angled rooftop.

Her stomach swoops as her feet slide against the slick shingles. A deft grip catches her.

“Steady, love,” Astarion purrs, and she can’t help but blush.

A rosy glow blooms in the air behind him. Eagerly, Evelyn peers past his shoulders to the show unfolding below. Astarion carefully steers them both into a seat along the rooftop. From their vantage point high above the other spectators, she has a clear view of the wizards working their spells at the heart of the crowd. Their magic twines and tangles in mesmerizing patterns. The weave itself dances before her eyes. 

And yet, even in the wake of such sparkling showmanship, Evelyn still finds herself turning her cheek to a vision far more striking.

Emerald greens and vivid reds flash across her lover’s face, glimmering in crimson eyes that seem too busy skimming the crowd to soak in the spectacle he hurried them to. A golden orb bursts overhead, breaking into sizzling cinders and setting a tangy static in the air. The magic crackles pleasantly against Evelyn’s skin, but she’s awestruck by the way it seeps over Astarion. For one wonder of a moment, he’s bleached in radiance. The dark circles beneath his eyes dissolve in the brightness.

As if he’s standing in the sun again.

“There!” He points suddenly, breaking her reverie. 

“What is it?” She asks, following his finger with a slight frown.

Astarion licks his lips. He says the word with the same rolling, hungry growl he uses when a hunt is on his mind. “Gingerbread!”

Evelyn balks at him. “Since when do you eat gingerbread?!”

“I don’t. But you’re going to,” he says firmly, as if the matter’s settled. Before she can manage a word in edgewise, she’s thoroughly unsettled. Astarion scoops her from her seat, deposits her back onto the balcony, and makes it halfway down the ladder again before she’s managed a breath.

“The show isn’t over yet!” She calls after him. “Don’t you want to--”

“Exactly. We’ll beat everyone else to the bakery, and in so doing, be sure that all sorts of delectable things find their way into that gorgeous mouth.”

Well, when he says it like that…how could she say no? Evelyn swallows hard. Her rakish rogue could make a swamp sound like paradise with all the magic in that silver tongue of his. 

She hurries after him, skirting the crowd, and pushing inside the corner patisserie. Astarion’s low, rolling chuckle teases her ears as her eyes flutter shut and a satisfied hum leaks from her lips, unbidden. Sweetness floods her senses: the tartness of sugared plums, the butteriness of fresh pastries, and the warmth of rising dough. Her mouth waters.

“Open up, darling,” Astarion bades her.

She’d follow that man through the hells (again) if he asked. But when she acquiesces to this simple command, it’s heaven she gets in return. Icing melts against her tongue and it's divine. With a plaintive groan, Evelyn takes the cookie from Astarion’s hand and takes a proper bite. 

“Good?” He prompts with a raised brow.

“So good!” She replies emphatically. 

“And this one?”

“Mmmm.” This one is a thin wafer coated in smooth dark chocolate and tingling with peppermint. It’s good enough to get her toes curled inside her boots.  

“You did pay for these, right?” Evelyn asks, brushing crumbs from her coat.

He doesn’t deign to answer. And she doesn’t hesitate to take the third cookie he conjures from seemingly nowhere.

More patrons trickle in, brushing past Evelyn’s shoulders. She shuffles to the side, eyeing Astarion suspiciously as he seems to look anywhere but her. He peers past the shuddering doors, back out into the avenue, searching for something he can’t seem to find.

“Perfect!” Astarion declares abruptly, eyes glinting with fresh mischief. She’s caught in his whirlwind again, his hand latched with hers, dragging her back out into the frosty night.

“Mmmf!” Her protest is muffled by gingerbread. “MMmhariammm!”

This time, he pulls her along down a short footpath to the docks, where the Sea of Swords is sealed in a pearly sheen of ice as far as the eye can see. Her jaw drops slack. Her confusion -- and growing concern -- over Astarion’s hastiness is cast aside in the wake of utter amazement. 

“It’s saltwater,” she says, marvelling at the shimmer. “It never freezes like this!”

Astarion offers a conspiratorial smile. “For just one night, and just a touch of magic, it does. Shall we?”

A flash of silver catches her eye. He snags something from the shrubbery behind them -- a pair of skates for each of them.

“Oh!” Evelyn grins, giddy even though her eyes narrow. “Did you pay for those?”

“These are simply borrowed,” he shrugs, unrepentant.

And, of course, they fit perfectly. Astarion knows her every inch like the back of his hand. Together, they pick their way carefully down to the frozen sea. Astarion glides effortlessly across the surface, as if it were easy as breathing. He turns back, offering a hand and the slight lift of his lips that she loves so dearly.

“If I take your hand,” she says with a sly smile, “promise we won’t go tearing off across the sea Alaron? Or to the other side of the city for at least five minutes? I’m sure it’s beautiful, but I think we have our own piece of paradise right here, hm?”

“Hm,” Astarion echoes, though the humor in his tone doesn’t touch the tight corners near his eyes. “I suppose I can manage that.”

She takes his open hand, and out onto the ice she slides. 

“You must’ve done this before!” She pants against Astarion’s shoulder. 

His other hand presses the small of her back. He leads in fluid, elegant movements. Twined together like this, they could be dancing in some Lord’s pristine ballroom. All the better that out here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city streets, it’s only each other and the quiet woosh of frostfall that keeps them company. 

This corner of the world is calm. Serene. Smooth and stunning as porcelain.

“No, I haven’t,” Astarion chuckles softly. The sound vibrates pleasantly against her ear. “Not that I can remember, anyway. But I am good at it.”

And gods, does he look good when he lets himself savor the moment instead of hunting for the next one. The moonlight casts a glowing, ivory crown around his head. Dimly, she’s aware of others taking to the ice, but she’s too swept up in his tender gaze to care. Footsteps crunch through the snow along the banks. Evelyn’s heart thumps within her ribs. The world smears as Astarion spins her out away from him, and then reels her back against his chest. Her lips tilt towards the cool caress of his lips.

But they don’t meet hers. Instead, a burst of sudden, hard, frigid cold breaks against her shoulder. Evelyn’s hand flies to her mouth, muffling her startled shout.

Astarion bristles, eyes tearing after three figures streaking through the dark: two young boys pelting another, younger one relentlessly with snowballs. The one that hit Evelyn must’ve been a stray. They’ve clearly no care for fairness, or collateral damage.

“Oh, the little scamps!” Astarion fumes. “Shall we show them to pick on someone their own size?”

“Let’s,” Evelyn says, magic coiling in her palm. Wind rushes from her fist, barreling towards the snow banks and carving fresh ammo for their arsenal. By the time they’ve reached the shore, a half-dozen snowballs await them. Evelyn redirects her magic, fanning out the gust until it forms a makeshift barricade of snow for them to crouch against.

Up ahead, the pair haven’t let up on their onslaught of the third. The boy cowers, arms shielding his face.

“Excuse me!” Astarion calls out. “You ought to get over here behind cover, no?”

The pair pause their assault, turning towards Astarion, incredulous.

“Oh, not you!” Astarion snaps irritably.

It’s then their newfound ward realizes his luck; the boy’s eyes widen as they meet Evelyn’s. Hastily, he scrambles towards their makeshift shelter.

“That’s better,” Astarion huffs. “Now,” he tells the boy, placing a snowball into his quivering hand, “take this, and take your revenge.”

It falls short -- or it would have, if not for the gust of wind Evelyn sends after it that sends it splatting against their adversaries’ legs.

“Not quite,” Astarion says gently. “Like this.”

He demonstrates with master precision; a pair of snowballs pelt the older boys square in the chest, sending them staggering back. She thinks he means to press his advantage, but instead, he plants another snowball in the younger boy’s palm. Evelyn watches, mesmerized, as he fixes the child’s grip, guides the boy’s arm back, and thrusts it forward with a measured force. 

The projectile meets its mark against a gangly shoulder.

“Woah,” the child gasps. 

“Cheater!” One of the older boys blurts. 

“You’re not cheating,” Astarion tells their new friend firmly. “You’re just…resourceful. There’s no harm in having help. Now, try another on your own.”

The boy’s brow furrows fiercely in concentration. He reels his arm back, and throws. Smack!

“Better,” Astarion smiles.

In no time at all, the tides of battle turn. The bullies flee in short order, their one-time ally tearing after them with a wild cry, pelting snowballs at their heels. Evelyn laughs herself breathless, watching them dart off into the dark.

Astarion leans back against their snowy fortifications with the sort of sated grin he usually wears after feeding. He looks relaxed. Carefree. Happy.

“You’re good with them, you know,” she says softly. It was on her lips as soon as she thought it -- before she could consider if it was a thought that should be said out loud at all. 

She always relished seeing this soft streak in him. The way he treats children. The way he treated Arabella, and Yenna. It wakes a warmth in her, the same, hopeful lift in her spirit that comes when winter thaws to spring.

She’d never had to worry about censoring herself with Astarion. But now, she babbles for something, anything else to say to staunch the flabbergasted look on his face.

“I beg your pardon?!” He blurts.

“I-I said, ‘is that mistletoe’?”

His eyes narrow, like a predator fixing on its prey. “Mistletoe!”

Oh, no. Evelyn groans inwardly. That must’ve been another word from the list that’s driven him from every moment she’s wanted to linger in tonight. He’s already feverishly untying his skates when she holds up a hand.

“Astarion, wait!” She pleads.

“Wait?” He whines, a faux pout on his lips. “But darling, I’ve been dying to kiss you all night.”

She feels the static building on her skin from his coat brushing hers. It’s a welcome friend, a familiar, pleasant sensation for a storm sorceress such as herself. One that might just make him listen.

“Then why wait any longer, love?” She says, soft and sultry. Her fingers tug along Astarion’s collar as she leans in and hovers.

He doesn’t disappoint; with a hungry groan low in his throat, Astarion dips his lips to hers.

Snap!

The static bursts across their mouths, the pleasure and pain equally brief and tantalizing. Astarion draws back only slightly, his nose nudging hers playfully.

“Is someone starved for attention?” He snickers. More earnestly he says, “You have mine now, love.”

“Astarion,” she says pointedly, “what is this all really about?”

He eases back, tilting his head. “Whatever do you mean?”

Evelyn raises a brow.

He gestures broadly, as if the motion itself is an explanation. When it evidently isn’t, he adds hastily, “Oh, it’s the solstice! It’s merry and joyous and bright, or whatever!”

Evelyn crosses her arms. “I don’t believe you care this much about the solstice.”

His head bobs sheepishly. “Maybe I didn’t before, but you do, and I adore you thoroughly.”

Evelyn dips her head, finding his eyes again. “Then why are we doing more rushing than we are relishing, hm?”

Her heart clenches as his shoulders slump. Ruefully, he meets her gaze. “I-I know it isn’t -- I mean, I know you said this is what you wanted,” he says, gesturing to himself hesitantly, “but the Underdark can’t be everything you wish for. If only for one night, I wanted you to have everything you long for. Everything a vampire spawn can give you, anyway.”

“My rakish, foolish rogue,” she says, throat thick. “The only wish I have left for tonight is that you enjoy it, too. This time is special because it’s ours. It’s spent together. Starting traditions! Making memories!”

She reaches out a hand to cradle his cheek. He leans into the touch at once, lips pressing tenderly to her inner wrist.

“I want to make all of them with you,” he whispers, reverent.

“Maybe not all in one night,” she says with a fond smile. “And maybe we don’t need the mistletoe, hm?”

She gets to taste that tender, secret smile of his as he leans forward and catches her in an eager kiss. Astarion reels her close, the scent of bergamot, brandy, and rosemary caressing her cheek as he cradles her jaw. Her eyes flutter shut, her satisfied hum thrumming from her lips to his.

The snow, the wind, the world around them melts into dull distance. They could be anywhere, but with him at her side, it could only be called ‘home’.

A/N: Per Mr. Megh, 'ladies love pre-planned activities'. 😆 Specific credit to him for pointing out why vampires might like the winter solstice, the idea of dragging poor Gale into this, and setting Astarion on his quest of holiday over-achievement. Divider credit to @firefly-graphics.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! <3 <3 <3

[arisuworld]

LAW OF ASSUMPTION : AN EPIPHANY-Ⅰ

⋆ ☾ : What is the law of assumption?

Law of Assumption in it's simplest form is: WHATEVER YOU ASSUME, YOU WILL HAVE IT IN YOUR REALITY. Now, for example : if you were assuming that you're a billionaire, then BY LAW you're a billionaire. You will have it in your reality in no time!! ALL ASSUMPTIONS HARDEN INTO A FACT.

⋆ ☾ : If it’s that easy, then why do people fail?

First of all, you cannot “fail” in the law of assumption, there is never failure in the law of assumption. The LAW CANNOT FAIL YOU!! People simply don’t get their desires for many reasons, which i will discuss thoroughly :-

1. THEY ARE IN THE “WAITING” ZONE.

This is a common mistake and i see it all the time, you are NOT WAITING FOR YOUR DESIRES, your desires are already YOURS. Once you assume it, then your desire is yours, thats it. It's done. Start maintaining the state of wish fulfilled.

State of wish fulfilled isn’t being happy or excitement, it's the fulfilment and acceptance that your manifestation is yours, it's a natural feeling.

2. THEY GO BACK TO THE OLD STORY.

“Your assumption to be effective, cannot be a single isolated act, it must be a maintained attitude of wish fulfilled” — Neville Goddard

You cannot serve two masters at once, to successfully manifest you must kill the old beliefs you’ve had, you must get rid of the limiting beliefs you’ve entertained. For example: if you’re manifesting a new desired appearance, you can’t keep persisting in the assumption that you’re ugly and start tearing yourself apart, you must persist in the assumption that you HAVE your desired appearance.

3. THEY ASSUME THEY HAVE TO DO A LOT OF THINGS TO GET WHAT THEY WANT.

THIS IS WRONG! You do not have to lift a finger to get what you want, you can stay in the comfort of your bed and home to get your dream life, the only thing you have to do is get out of the comfort zone of a victim mindset. Methods, yes they’re helpful but are they necessary? no. You do not have to do the void, SATS, scripting, 5x55 or 3x33 or lullaby method to get what you want. You just need yourself and your mind.

4. THEY HAVE A FEAR OF FAILURE.

As i mentioned before, you cannot fail. So, GO ALL IN, start taking that leap of faith, nothing bad will happen, start believing in yourself and start having faith within yourself because trust me YOU CAN. You can do it. Majority of people have this longing fear that they’re wasting their time but it WILL WORK and it's NOT A WASTE OF TIME. The biggest risk is sitting there idly by not doing anything and staying in the same position when know all this power you have!

5. LACK OF SELF CONCEPT.

Self concept is something everyone will benefit from, no matter what, take it from me. When i focused on my self concept i got better treatment from other people, people treated me with respect, i treated myself with respect, toxicity out of my life, fortune and luck everywhere i go.

Our concept of ourselves revolves around our manifestations; if you always thought of yourselves as ugly, a loser, stupid you don’t have that self respect for yourself and you dont feel worthy enough. Look at rihanna, rihanna treats herself highly and so does everyone else around her. why? because she has a high concept of herself and SHE KNOWS that she deserves to be treated with the upmost respect and she reflects that.

⋆ ☾ : So, it’s really that easy?

YES! it really is that easy, a lot of people don’t think its easy because of the way they VIEW it. Some people view law of assumption as a job or a chore when it really isn't. We assume everyday without even realising it, when we see food that looks gross to us, we assume that it most-likely tastes like absolute garbage and because we assumed it so....IT IS!

That girl in your school who you think is a snobby little privileged bully? if you changed their assumption on them and replaced it with new beliefs and maintained those new beliefs then they would change.

[There will be total four parts of this series!! Also, THIS POST IS NOT MINE. I just edited this and posted here because a lot of people need to read this]