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rafayelxsylusho · 3 days ago

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These are just making my stomach flip!😍😍

Now I wanna know is...how would our beautiful boys react if y/n/MC was trying to get them jealous instead?

💅🏻

Sorry it took such a long time!! I was planning on posting them all together but I'm still working on the other three.

Enjoy!!

How do the LADS men act when they are jealous Part 1

Zayne/Xavier

Zayne's lips crashed against yours the moment the front door clicked shut behind you, his strong hands gripping your waist and pulling your curves flush against his muscular frame. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim every inch of it.

"Mmm, I've been waiting for that all day," Zayne murmured against your lips. His hands began to wander, sliding up your sides and cupping the swell of your breasts through the thin fabric of your shirt. You gasped into his mouth, your own hands fisting in his dark hair as you pressed closer to him.

Zayne took the opportunity to walk you backwards, his lips never leaving yours, until your back hit the wall. He pinned you there with his hips, one hand sliding under your skirt to grip the back of your thigh while the other fisted in your hair, forcing your head back to expose the column of your throat to his hungry mouth.

He trailed open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point before biting down, marking you. You cried out, head falling back against the wall with a thud, your hips bucking against his as you felt his hard length pressing insistently against your core.

"Zayne," voice high and breathy with need. "We can't... not here..." You protested weakly even as your body screamed for his touch.

"Then let's take this to the bedroom," he said, his voice a low growl. In a flash, he swept you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the hall to your room. He kicked the door shut before tossing you onto the bed, crawling over you with a predatory gleam in his hazel eyes.

"I want you," he said, his hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt up around your waist. "I want to feel your skin against mine, your body under me as I make you scream my name." His other hand slid under your shirt, pushing the cups of your bra down to free your aching breasts. "I want to taste every inch of you."

He was acting differently than usual, his slow and sensual pace replaced by a desperate need to claim your body. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours as his hands stilled on your bare skin. "What's wrong?" you asked softly, tracing your fingers along his jawline.

Zayne's expression tightened briefly before he shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Nothing's wrong," he assured you, his voice low and smooth. "I just... I want you. More than anything." His hands began to move again, sliding down your sides and hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. He tugged at them, pulling them down your legs until he could toss them carelessly to the floor. He settled between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your core as he leaned down to capture your mouth in a kiss.

"I need to be inside you," he said, his voice a low growl against your lips. "I need to feel you around me, hear you moan my name as I make you come undone." You arched up against him, your nails raking down his back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Then take me"

His grip tightened on your thighs as he flipped you over onto your stomach, your skirt still bunched up around your waist. He pressed his palms against the small of your back, urging you to arch it and lift your hips, exposing your bare ass to his hungry eyes.

"Like this," you heard him say "I want to see you like this, all laid out and ready for me to take you." His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, squeezing and kneading the globes as he positioned himself behind you. His large hand pressed firmly against your upper back, just below your shoulder blades, pinning your face down against the mattress. Your heart raced at this new position, this level of dominance you weren't used to from him.

He leaned over you, his muscular chest pressing against your back, his hips nestling between your thighs. "Keep your ass up for me."

His hand slid down your spine again, his fingers splaying across the curve of your ass. He gripped the flesh hard, squeezing and kneading, before delivering a sharp smack to one cheek. The sound of the slap echoed through the room, followed by your startled gasp.

Zayne growled in approval, his hips rolling forward to grind his hard, clothed cock against your bare folds. "Fuck, you have such a perfect ass," you could hear the sound of the zipper of his jeans lowering with a soft hiss "I can't wait to sink my cock deep inside your tight little cunt." He punctuated his words with another smack to your ass, this time on the other cheek. Then, without warning, he gripped your hips tight and thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you. You cried out into the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as he began to move, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. This was a side of him you'd never seen before, a raw, primal hunger that both thrilled and frightened you. But most of all, it ignited a fire within you, a burning need to submit to his every demand.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," Zayne snarled, his hips never faltering as he took you with a ferocity you'd never expected. You tried to move your hands, craving the feel of Zayne's skin against your palms, but he was having none of it. In a show of raw strength, he grabbed your wrists and pulled your arms back, using them as leverage to yank your hips harder against his, impaling you even deeper on his throbbing cock. "Ahh!" you cried out, back arching as he hit a spot deep inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. Your walls clenched around him, trying to draw him even further in, as if your body was desperate to keep him buried inside. "Keep still, let me fuck you like I need to fuck you." His grip on your wrists tightened, holding your arms behind your back as he continued his relentless assault on your pussy, each thrust punching the air from your lungs.

The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, striking that sweet spot inside you with every drive of his hips. Wet sounds filled the room as he rutted into you, the force of his thrusts making your ass jiggle and your tits bounce beneath you. You could only hold on for dear life as he used your body for his pleasure, claiming you in a way that made you feel owned, possessed, utterly and completely his.

You felt Zayne release your wrists, your arms dropping limply to your sides as you gasped for air. Before you could catch your breath, he leaned over your back, his muscular chest pressing against you, pinning you down. One large hand splayed across your stomach, holding you in place as his other hand dipped between your thighs. You could feel his fingers brushing against your swollen, sensitive clit, gathering the slick evidence of your arousal.

"Suck," Zayne commanded, his voice a low, dominant growl in your ear. He pressed his fingers against your lips, coated in your juices, demanding your obedience. Your lips parted instinctively, and he pushed two long digits into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. The taste of your own slick exploded across your taste buds, heady and intoxicating.

"Taste how wet you are for me," Zayne rasp, his hips never stilling their relentless rhythm as he fucked into you. "Taste how much your little cunt is dripping for my cock."

He curled his fingers inside your mouth, stroking along your tongue, as his other hand slid up to wrap around your throat. He didn't squeeze, just rested his hand there, a reminder of his dominance, his control over your pleasure.

"Such a good girl, taking my cock so well," he praised, his hot breath fanning across the back of your neck.

He tightened his grip around your throat as he yanked you back against his muscular chest, your back arching to accommodate his demand. At the same time, he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, brushing against the back of your throat as he fucked your mouth with the same relentless pace as his hips thrusted into your cunt.

His hand on your throat slid down your trembling body to find your aching clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, rough circles. Drool leaked from the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin and onto your heaving tits.

"I'm not going to last much longer," Zayne panted, his hot breath washing over your neck and ear. "Tell me," he growled "Tell me you're mine, that this sweet little cunt belongs to me. Say it, Y/n."

He pinched your clit hard, rolling the tender flesh between his fingers as he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt. "Come on, let me hear you say it," Zayne demanded, his hazel eyes blazing with possessive desire. "Tell me you're mine, that your pleasure, your body, your soul... it all belongs to me. Only to me." His fingers pressed against the roof of your mouth, holding you in place as he felt his heavy balls draw up tight.

"Do it," he snarled "Give me what I want, and I'll give you what you need. Say the words"

The realization hit you like a train, the understanding that Zayne's intense, almost feral claiming of your body stemmed from a place of jealousy. Seeing you with Caleb this afternoon had ignited a primal need in him, a desire to assert his ownership of you, to mark you as his and his alone. As the truth sank in, your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision going white as ecstasy consumed you. "I'M YOURS!" you screamed, your voice raw and hoarse from the force of your release. "ALL YOURS, ZAYNE! EVERY PART OF ME BELONGS TO YOU!"

Your pussy clamped down around his cock, rippling and fluttering as you came undone. Your body convulsed in his arms, shaking and trembling as pleasure wracked through every nerve ending. Drool leaked from your open mouth, tears streamed down your face as you surrendered yourself completely to the overwhelming sensation. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hip, holding you in place as he slammed into you one last time, burying himself as deep as physically possible. His cock jerked and throbbed inside your walls as he found his release, painting your insides with thick ropes of his cum.

In that moment, you knew you would do anything, give anything, to feel this way again. To be possessed so completely, so utterly and irrevocably, by the man you loved. You'd never felt so thoroughly used, so owned, and it was everything you never knew you needed.

Zayne collapsed against you, his muscular chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as the aftershocks of your shared orgasms rolled through you.

"Mine," he said tenderly as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "All mine.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to watch you smile at someone else?" he asks quietly. "To see their eyes linger on you just a moment too long, and wonder..."

He trails off, jaw clenching. His hand on your waist tightens slightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip.

"No one gets to have you like I do," he tells you fervently. "No one gets to see you come apart, to hear you say my name like it's the only word you know." His other hand slides up your thigh, under the hem of your skirt. His fingers find the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tracing maddening patterns that make you shiver.

"I've seen the way he looks at you. Like he's trying to memorize every curve, every inch of your face." Xavier's hand slides higher up your thigh, fingertips grazing the edge of your panties. "A man doesn't do that unless he's imagining all the ways he wants to touch you." He cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip as he tilts your chin up to force you to meet his gaze. The pad of his thumb pushes into your mouth, tracing the smooth, slick flesh.

"You can't tell me he was just being friendly. I know better." Xavier's voice drops to a low murmur, his breath mingling with yours. "A man always wants more when he looks at you the way he does. And I won't let him have it."

Xavier hooks a finger under the fabric of your panties and tugs them roughly to the side, exposing your most intimate area to the cool air of the room. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your glistening folds, he traces a single finger along your slit, teasing, not quite touching where you need him most. His touch is maddeningly light, barely a whisper of skin on skin. It makes your hips cant forward, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"And no one else gets to feel this pretty little pussy clench around their cock," he murmurs, pressing a finger just inside your entrance . He pumps it slowly, shallowly, barely breaching you before pulling back out. "Fuck, you're so tight. Always so fucking tight for me."

His thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nub with light touch. Your head falls back against the couch, a soft gasp escaping your lips. His finger pumps a little faster, a little deeper, but still not enough. Never enough. Suddenly he buries his face between your thighs, not allowing you to see his expression, his eyes. He knows how much you love watching him, reading the raw desire and hunger in his gaze as he pleasures you. But now, lost in the shadow of your skirt, he denies you that thrill, leaving you in the dark about his intentions.

His tongue parts your folds, a long lick from your entrance up to your clit, he focus his attention there, suckling and flicking the sensitive bud with a fervor that borders on punishing. It's intense, almost too much. He feels your hands moving to lift your skirt, to give you a clearer view of what he's doing to you. But before you can, he warns you off with a sharp nip to your clit that makes you gasp and jerk against him. "Ah-ah-ah," voice muffled against your flesh. "Keep your hands off." he tightens his grip on your ankles, holding your legs spread wider, locking you in place. The stretch is delicious almost painful, leaving you open and exposed to his hungry mouth.

He dives back in, tongue delving deep into you. He's relentless, his assault on your senses unyielding. Lick, suck, nibble, he works you over with a single minded intensity that steals your breath and sets your nerve endings ablaze. You can feel the vibration of his low groans against your core as he loses himself in tasting you.

He's punishing you, in a way. Punishing you for the way you tease him, for the way you make him crazy with jealousy. Punishing you for the effect you have on him, the power you hold over him. "Xavier," you gasp out, voice ragged with need. "Touch me...please..."but he just hums against your clit and suckles harder, flicks his tongue faster, pushing you closer to the edge. But still, his hands remain locked around your ankles, holding you down, keeping you at his mercy. He's proving that he can bring you to the heights of pleasure without even touching your breasts, without even grazing your nipples with his fingers.

When he feels your body tense, your walls fluttering around his invading tongue as your orgasm crashes over you, he moans against your core, the vibrations prolonging your peak, drawing it out until you're writhing beneath him. But even as the aftershocks fade, he doesn't stop, his tongue continues its merciless dance, licking and suckling your over sensitive flesh. He ignores your gasped pleas for him to stop, for him to give you a moment to catch your breath. Instead, he doubles down, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from you.

Your hands fist in the fabric of your skirt, gripping tightly as you try to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensations. But the pleasure is too intense, too much. Tears spring to your eyes as he overstimulates your nerve endings, pushing you to the limit of what you can take.

"Xav, please..." you gasp out, voice ragged and broken. But he pays no attention to your plea, continuing his punishing rhythm.

He's never done this before, never pushed you so far past the point of no return. It's overwhelming, the intensity of it, the sheer, unrelenting focus of his desire. Your second climax builds quickly, your body responding to his skilled mouth with a speed that leaves you breathless. You're drowning in sensation, lost in a sea of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. And still, he doesn't stop, doesn't let up, driving you ruthlessly towards another shattering peak.

He pauses when he feels your legs straining against his grip as you try to free yourself from his hold. He looks up, silvery hair falling back from his face as he meets your eyes. His eyes are dark, nearly black with desire, the blue irises barely visible in the dim light.

"Watch me," he commands, voice low and rough with need. "I want to see when you cum this time."

As he speaks, he releases your ankles, allowing your legs to fall open, fully exposing you. In one swift motion, he removes your skirt and panties, tossing them carelessly to the side. Leaving you bare, vulnerable and at his mercy again.

His hands slide up your thighs and pushes your legs further apart, until you're spread wide, open, and ready. His eyes never leave yours as he leans in, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "Keep your eyes on me," he orders, before his mouth is on you again, tongue delving deep, fucking you with a fervor that steals your breath. His eyes bore into yours, watching, waiting, savoring every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. The pleasure is intense, the intimacy overwhelming, as he demands your complete surrender, your total focus. There is no escape, no distraction. Only the two of you, locked in this moment of raw, primal connection. He drives two fingers deep into your aching core as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. The sudden intrusion, the stretch, the fullness, it's too much. Your orgasm crashes over you, back arching off the couch, a silent scream tearing from your throat. He feels your walls clench, gripping his fingers like a vice as your release floods through you. He pumps his fingers in time with the strokes of his tongue, drawing out your climax until it consumes you entirely. Your eyes, hazy and unfocused, meet his intense gaze. The black of his pupils has swallowed all but a thin ring of blue, his stare almost feral in its hunger. He's watching you, watching the ecstasy play out across your face, committing every second of your pleasure to memory.

"Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful when you cum. So perfect."

Only then does he pull away, fingers slipping from your dripping core, tongue licking your essence from his lips with a low, satisfied groan.

"That's it, baby, you did so well. Took everything I gave you like a good girl."

He stands, the sound of his zipper echoing loudly in the charged air of the room as he frees himself. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of him, hard and heavy and straining towards his abdomen, the thick length of him making your mouth water, but before you can react further, he is picking you up, strong arms encircling your waist as he sits down on the couch, settling you on his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place. "Hold onto the couch," voice low and rough with need. "Keep yourself up, baby. I'm going to fuck you now."

"Keep your hands right there. Don't move them from the backrest." At the same time, he's already tugging your shirt up and over your breasts, exposing you to the cool air, your nipples harden instantly. He leans down, hot mouth latching onto one aching peak, tongue swirling and suckling greedily, his teeth graze the sensitive bud. His other hand is on your neglected breast, pinching and plucking, heightening your arousal.

You squirm in his lap, hips rolling instinctively, seeking friction, seeking him. But his grip on your hips tightens, holding you still, keeping you in place. "Please," you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. "Please, Xavier..."

"Shh, I've got you, baby," he murmurs against your breast, soothing you even as his touch inflames your desire. He takes his time, laving your breasts with long, slow licks of his flat tongue. He knows how sensitive you are, how easily he can reduce you to a writhing, begging mess with just this simple act. He's mapping every inch of the soft swells, tracing the curves and valleys with a thoroughness that speaks to his intimate knowledge of your body's responses. His tongue swirls around one straining peak before he suckles hard, pulling the tender bud deep into his mouth. At the same time, he's circling your clit with the leaking tip of his cock, the thick head sliding through your slick folds, catching on the sensitive bundle of nerves with each pass.

You're panting now, hips rolling desperately, trying to take him inside, to feel that first delicious stretch as he fills you. But he's teasing you, tormenting you with the promise of his thick length, denying you that final push.

"Please," you whimper, voice breaking on a moan as he laves your other nipple with the same attention. "Please, Xavier, I need...I need..."

But he's lost in his own world, consumed by the taste and feel of you, the way you tremble and mewl so sweetly for him. He's drunk on the power he holds over you, the way your body responds to his slightest touch as if starved for his caress. He pulls back slightly, his intense gaze locking with yours. His eyes are ablaze with a hunger that steals your breath, a primal desire that makes your heart race. "Look at me, can you see the way I'm looking at you right now? That's how he was looking at you. Like he wanted to devour you whole, like you're the only thing that matters in this world. But only I get to see you like this, only I get to make you fall apart."

To punctuate his words, he bites down on your nipple, a sharp sting that blends deliciously with the pleasure coursing through your veins. At the same time, he rubs your clit with the broad head of his cock, circling and pressing, applying just the right amount of pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. When your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clench, gripping nothing, making you feel empty.

"Fuck, yes, cum on my cock," he growls, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he thrusts up, sheathing himself inside you to the hilt in one powerful stroke, you cry out when you feel the delicious stretch. He's so big, stretching you to your limit, claiming every inch of you. And then he's moving, hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he starts to fuck you. Slowly at first, giving you time to adjust to his size, to the delicious drag of his length against your sensitive walls.

Xavier feels your body going limp, the aftershocks of your intense orgasm leaving you boneless and spent. You're collapsed against his chest, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to catch your breath. He tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, gripping tight, and tugs your head back. The sharp sting of pain mixes deliciously with the pleasure still sparking through your nerves as he forces you to meet his gaze.

"Come on, baby," he coaxes, voice low and rough with desire. "Give me one more. I know you have at least one more in you. Just one more, for me." His other hand slides down to grip your ass, squeezing the supple flesh, pulling you harder against him. He's still thrusting into you, still fucking you with deep, powerful strokes that hit that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

"Look at me," he demands, fingers tightening in your hair. "Look at me while I make you cum again, y/n. I want to watch your face as I fuck you through another one." He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss, tongue delving deep to claim your mouth as thoroughly as he's claiming your body. He swallows your whimpers and moans, drinking down every sound of your ecstasy as he drives into you. "I...I can't," you whimper, voice ragged and weak, your body trembling with exhaustion. "It's too much, I'm too sensitive..." But he cuts off your protest, gripping your hair even tighter, forcing your chin up with his thumb pressing hard against it.

"Yes, you can," he insists, dark eyes blazing into yours with intensity. "And you will. I know you have more in you. I can feel it. Your body was made to take everything I give you, to crave it." He proves his point with a sharp thrust, grinding against that spot inside you that makes your vision go white. A strangled cry escapes your lips, back arching as much as his grip on your hair allows.

"Found it ," he groans, picking up the pace, fucking into you harder, faster. "Take it, baby. Take everything I have to give you. Your cunt is mine, your orgasms are mine. I decide when you're done."

His other hand slides down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub. The dual sensations, the relentless stimulation, it's almost too much. Tears spring to your eyes from the intensity of it, from the way he's pushing you beyond anything you've ever experienced before.

"Come on," he urges "One more. Give me one more. Let me feel this greedy little pussy grip my cock. Fuck, you're so close, I can feel you squeezing me. Do it, baby. Cum for me, scream for me, let me hear that pretty voice crying my name." His words wash over you, commanding, urging, pushing you to the brink of another shattering climax. Your body is on fire, nerves singing with pleasure, every inch of your skin hypersensitive and alive. When your orgasm crashes over you, it's intense and overwhelming, stealing your breath and your sanity. Your mouth falls open as your release floods your system, your walls clamping down around him. "XAVIER!" you cry out, voice echoing through the room, surely carrying through the thin walls of your apartment. "FUCK, XAVIER!"

He snarls, a feral sound of pure satisfaction, and then he slams into you one last time. His cock pulses, throbbing as he hilts inside you, painting your insides with thick ropes of his cum. He grinds against you, making sure every last drop is seated deep inside you.

He holds you tight as you both come down from the heights of your shared climax. Your bodies are slick with sweat, chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. His softening cock stays nestled inside you, a claiming presence that makes you feel owned, possessed.

"Good girl," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Such a good girl, giving me that last one." He rocks you gently, arms wrapped around you like a protective shield, as the last tremors fade away. You're exhausted, drained, utterly spent, but you've never felt more content, more complete. You're exactly where you're meant to be, right here in the arms of the man you love.

Before the overwhelming exhaustion can pull you under, before you collapse completely against his strong chest, you whisper the four words that Xavier has been desperate to hear fall from your lips. "I love you, Xavier." you breathe out, the confession soft but clear in the quiet of the room. Your voice is hoarse from screaming his name, raw from the intensity of it all, but the feeling behind it is undeniable. For a moment, the only sound is the ragged rhythm of your breathing, the two of you tangled together in the aftermath of your lovemaking. Then, you feel it, a sudden, sharp increase in the pace of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. It's a rare occurrence, this display of emotion from Xavier. He's always so controlled, so calm and collected, even in the heat of passion. But your whispered declaration has shaken something deep inside him. His arms tighten around you reflexively, crushing you against his chest as if he's afraid you might disappear if he lets you go. You can feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat, hear the hitch in his breathing as he processes your words. He's silent for a long moment, and for a terrified second, you wonder if you've said something wrong.

The last thing you hear before you succumb to slumber is the rhythm of Xavier's heartbeat, and the whispered words that seal your fate. "I love you too," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Forever."

#love and deepspace #lnds #lads #lads smut #lads x reader #lnds x reader #lads x you #lnds x you #love and deepspace reader #love and deepspace zayne #zayne smut #lnds xavier #love and deepspace xavier #xavier smut #lads xavier #zayne love and deepspace

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estcaligo · 2 days ago

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Sebek's scars

Sebek x reader, romantic A/N Technically, this shouldn't be a part of my I Love Everything About You series because it's not in the right format. But a sudden drabble formed in my head while I was rereading Sebek's Scales this morning, so I've decided to include it as a special piece.

Sebek's scales are a wonderful idea, but I need to talk about his scars.

I mentioned once his lightning scars from using his unique magic, but what about his regular ones? He has been through intense training, survival camps, combat practice, and weapon mastery. There have to be some scars on his body.

So I find myself wondering - do they (Lilia, Mama Zigvolt, or Baul) erase these marks with magic, or do they let them remain? I hope they don't remove them.

Because then, you could trace them, kiss them, and tell him how strong he is. And he'd become all smug about it, proudly recounting the stories behind each one.

Of course, he'd mention Malleus at least ten times, declaring that it's an honor to bear these marks - medals of valor earned in the service of protecting his king.

But then, as your hand gently traces along his body, you notice a small scar that appears fresh. Before you can ask about it, he suddenly tenses, trying to cover it up, his usual bravado faltering. For the first time, you catch a glimpse of shyness in his movements.

"I'm sorry, does that hurt?" you ask softly, making sure his reaction isn't caused by pain.

"No, pain is not the matter here" he replies, trying to sound indifferent.

"Oh, good. Then… what's the story behind this one?" you're careful with your question, but try to meet his eyes.

He hesitates for a few moments before finally saying "This one is because of you."

"What? I-I'm so sorry!" your first reaction is panic, as he doesn't elaborate. "D-did I hurt you somehow? If I did, then I'm really s-”

"Ha! As if a weak human like you could hurt me!" his bravado returns as he smirks.

Then, taking your hand, he presses it gently against the scar.

"This one," he says "is from when I saved you from that darkness during our dream-hopping journey! You're such a weak human - what were you thinking, jumping in there…?"

You remember that moment, when Sebek had actually saved your life - one of many, many times. He has never mentioned scars obtained because of you before, though. Is that why he was acting nervous?

"Oh… I see. Thank you, Seb, and… I am sorry." you slowly start to pull your hand away from his body, but he suddenly grabs it, holding it firmly as he meets your gaze.

"Stop apologizing! Or do you think such a trifle is something to worry about for me?" his voice is a little louder than before, and you notice a hint of blush on his cheeks.

"I'm just sorry that you have to bear it because of me now…" you murmur, still sounding guilty.

"Were you listening to me just now? Or are your human ears too weak for even my voice to reach them?!"

You blink at him in confusion. His grip on your hand tightens slightly.

"I just said that bearing scars for protecting those who are dear is a great honor for a warrior!"

"But that was about Lord Malleus-"

"About Lord Malleus, of course. But also…" his voice drops to a quieter tone. "This applies to you, too."

For a moment, there's only silence between you, the weight of his words settling like a promise.

"As long as these scars mean you are safe, I shall bear them as my armor. Do you understand?" his gaze is still locked on you - serious and unwavering.

And you return his steadfast look with a gentle smile, leaning in to draw him into your embrace.

"Bear your armor with pride then, my warrior." you whisper. "And I will make sure no scar ever reaches your heart."

#plus I really wanted to include my sketch of bandaging him #and it's simply a perfect transition to Sebek's Heart OMG #caligo's stories #twisted wonderland #twst #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst x reader

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odd-lil-duck · 3 days ago

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A story!

Gumdrop was sitting in class, bored out of her mind. She was too smart for the regular classes but not smart enough for any of the advanced classes. She could keep up with her school work easily enough. Math was the subject she excelled at, though she could spend hours in her literature class. It was the first class of the day and by the time school was over with, she couldn't wait to go home.

"Yoooo!"

A voice was coming up behind Gumdrop. She turns around to find Citty Kat running up to her. Citty Kat was always beaming and ran around like sunshine was trailing behind. Today seemed no different. They ran up to Gumdrop out of breath. "Hey! Wait! Wait up!" Gripping their sides as if they had nothing else to hold.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh yeah no totally!" They finally straightened out. "I just needed to tell you something!"

Something? Gumdrop and Citty Kat haven't known each other long, but Gumdrop could not help but be cautious anyway.

"Are you doing anything after school?" They asked.

"No...?" How important was this if they had to wait till after school to tell her?

"Good! Let's find Andre! We need to bring him with us too!"

Andre?

What does Andre have to do with anything?

They both found him outside the boy's bathroom. His last class of the day was P.E. so he just finished changing back to his shorts and long sleeve shirt.

"Yoooo!" Citty Kat was waving their arm around crazily to catch his attention. Gumdrop let her attention drift to the falling leaves.

"Is everything okay?" Worry spread across his face rapidly. His arms drift back to their normal place crossed over his chest

"C'mon let's go!" Citty Kat pulls him by the arm and begins running off, leaving Gumdrop to follow behind. She sighed and trudged along.

Citty Kat n Andre stop in front of the doors of some fast food restaurant. Through the windows it's busier than usual. Gumdrop catches up to them and stops in front of the doors. Citty Kat turns to them and speaks.

"Alright! Are you guys ready?" The two turn to each other in confusion.

"Ready for what?" Gumdrop knows they mean no harm - that's why she followed them - however what little she knows about them is that they are a very spontaneous, almost chaotic force. They do as they please and follow the wind in its spirit.

Citty Kat points to the sign on the window. "They have Buy 1 Get 1 Free burgers right now! We have to get some! Mandatory!"

"Wh- that's it?" Andre couldn't help but be more suspicious.

"The food here is sooo good! I've been saving up for a while and then I see the sign today!"

Gumdrop couldn't be any more underwhelmed. She turns to leave.

"No wait don't go!" Citty Kat cried out. "Just trust me on this, you won't regret it!"

Gumdrop sighed. She turned back to the doors. A wide small spread across Citty Kat's face.

"Alright let's go!" They all march in one after the other.

The line is longer than usual, giving the kids a few minutes to talk.

"Okay!" exclaimed Citty Kat. "Anyone have any food allergies? Any food icks? Anything?"

"N-no. Nothing like that." Andre shook his head. Gumdrop wordlessly shook hers.

"Okay! Stay right there!" Citty Kat goes ahead to the line, leaving the two alone.

Neither of them say anything for a few minutes, the silence growing almost unbearable. Andre shifts uneasily on his feet. Gumdrop keeps her arms crossed, waiting.

"So," Andre breaks the silence between them. "I noticed you keep sitting at the same spot at lunch alone."

"And I noticed you keep sitting at my spot at lunch," Gumdrop responds. Andre begins to fidget with the hem of his shirt.

"It's the only place, uh, away from everyone else, Idk I just needed to get away from everyone," his voice dropping to a whisper, "If you want me to leave then I can, uh, I can stop sitting there."

She turns to look at him. His head has dropped down, eyes turned to the floor. His hands are still on the hem of his shirt. His sneakers are pointed inward. The hat covering his head of hair starts to sag a bit.

Gumdrop sat on this for a moment. She has discovered her god was a false god, but she was still a student of his teachings. Her mind led her in one way, but her instincts.....

Sighing, she speaks her mind.

"I don't mind."

Andre perks up.

"you- you mean it?"

He looked like someone just gave him a puppy, thought Gumdrop.

"I just, I need my space. I need a moment to myself."

"Of- of course." Andre couldn't help but feel more than grateful.

"So-"

"Okayyyy!! I have the food!!" The smell was wafting through the air as it grew closer to the two. "Alright! Let's go find a table!"

"Go on! Give it a try!" Citty Kat smiles with expectation and excitement. They had placed the two burgers in front of the other two. Gumdrop couldn't help but feel uneasy at the sight of so much grease. She looked up to see Andre take a bite. His eyes were showing no more regrets in life, as if he had found the reason for living.

Citty Kat had looked at Gumdrop.

"Did you wanna try it?"

Gumdrop glances back to the burger. She picks it up in as much of a dignified manner as one can have while eating a burger. Finding the perfect bite, the texture floods in first. The flavor then seeps through the grease and various juices. The synergy creates a medley of different emotions and experiences all at once.

"Good, right?" Gumdrop snaps back to reality. Andre is most halfway done with his. Citty Kat is sitting there with an expectant smile on their face. "You liked it, right?"

Gumdrop chews a bit more thoughtfully, savoring every last sensation this burger intended to bring.

"Hm... This..." She couldn't help but ponder, trying to think of the best way to describe it. "This might be the best burger I've ever had."

Citty Kat's smile somehow grew even wider. They chew off the end of a fry in satisfaction.

"Wait but, where's your burger?" Andre began. "Why are you only eating the fries?"

"Oh, I don't like burgers." Replied Citty Kat. "I only really eat the fries and nuggets." They continued to munch on some more fries.

Gumdrop glances at Andre and then turns her attention back to Citty Kat. "So if you weren't going to eat the burgers from the burger place, why bring us? What is the point of anything?"

Citty Kat shrugged their shoulders. "Well, because it's fun! You guys try new things with me and I get to eat my favorite food! Win win!" Citty Kat grinned.

A look of confusion spreads across Andre's face followed by realization. Gumdrop let's out a sigh. They continue to eat in peace, Citty Kat rambling on about their day, Andre chiming in with facts about Pokemon, and Gumdrop sitting idly, listening to her two new friends while eating her new favorite burger.

how would one of your OCs react to a HUGE burger and delicious seasoned french fries?

#differentperspective #different perspective #diffeperspective #gumdrop #citty kat #andre #food mention #food mention cw #I got tired partway through writing this and went to sleep #I only thought to come back to it after work

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angelesca · 19 hours ago

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d d d d dddd d DATING ANAXA HEADCANONS 🗣️🗣️🗣️ bc im proper insane, bonkers even (oh blimey she escaped the asylum again)

full art plug here😎

did i draw this and imagine a million scenarios during it? yes. yes idid. this post is the result. btw havent played 3.1 so here are my wrong headcanons (more mischaracterisation? love that) (w/ gnreader as usual!) bc i love my men bratty and smart. WARNING!! i broke my sfw rules for anaxa LMAOOO💔💔mix of sfw + NSFW ahead guys look OUT ITS NOT A DRILL THIS IS HAPPENING AAAAA😭🙏

starting off strong. i ant hold it in anymore ANAXA'S EROGENOUS ZONE IS UNDER HIS EYEPATCH🗣️🗣️🗣️ I HAVE SPOKEN MY TRUTH‼️THIS IS WHAT MADE ME QUESTION MY SFW STATUS I CAN FINALLY RELEASEMY DEMONS

i imagine he lowkey loves it when you have your finger under his eyepatch and. penetrate it. into his cosmos space thingy. and like he breathes really heavy, flushed cheeks, some tears, def some stifled moaning, and will hold your wrist to nudge your finger further in. basically bro is getting off to it. will clean your finger with his tongue after the session, but you have to help him walk around since his legs are deffo jelly after that DO YOU GUYS SEE WHAT IM SEEING PLEEEEASEEE SOMEONE WRITE THIS DONT MAMKE ME DO ITTT😭😭😭😭😭🙏🙏

EDIT: ANAXA HAS A "G-SPOT"/PROSTATE IN HIS SPACE CHEST🗣🗣🗣

WILL TAKE OFF HIS RINGS AND PUT IT ON YOUR FINGERS RAAAAAAAAAAH and he def teases you by sliding it on your ring finger, gauging your reaction as he smirks (that sly sod omggg)

"hmm, this finger looks a little lonely... i could change that."

interlaces his hand with yours to stretch it, like a massage. knows all the pressure points to help de-stress you

uses his wind powers to do fun magic tricks and play with you like imagine he only has to flick his finger and the wind pulls you closer to him HUUUUUUUUUUU SICKCCKKKK. will also blow a calm, soft breeze if you need to relax and take your mind off things.

literally gets a kick off of flustering you (it's his love language) every time you ask him why his response is: "so? don't like it?" mans not embarassed💔

if you have any texting habits, like sending cute stickers or kaomojis, anaxa will copy it bc he thinks its cute and amusing. always replying to your messages, although the same can't be said with the chrysos heirs who nag at him for ignoring theirs

anaxa: where are you? i've been waiting for ages ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ you: ??? that's my kaomoji??? anaxa: ours now anaxa: (҂` ﾛ ´)︻デ═一 you: ＼(º □ º l|l)/

idk why i feel this so strongly but anaxa just does many smaller kisses, like pecks to the cheek. kinda playful, fleeting but always returning. i also feel like he's a neck kinda guy, always brushing his fingers along it or placing kisses. will secure you in place with a hug just to kiss the nape.

even though you two are together, anaxa will still give you stinky side eyes. loves to hear your gossip for sure, he doesn't say it but he loves chatting shit about others. will be the quietest ever when you have juicy stories.

will flame anyone who has made you upset to bits and pieces. bro's mouth is like a machine gun

likes to tilt your chin, moving it so you face him whenever he wants your attention.

he likes it when you take control, that brat taming typa shiii brooo00 he likes it when you rough him up, always a cheeky grin on his face. prods you as well, like "is that it?", "c'mon, harder my love..."

loves when you give him hickeys, or any markings like scratches. its like staking your claim on him and he fw with that😎

one sure way to get him flustered is straight up telling him "i love you". it forces him to confront his feelings head on and anaxa can't deal with that. will lightly flick your forehead, or anything to stop you from staring at his reddened face.

a/n: so. this is what happens whne im menstruating. how we feeling guys. it was jsut a few very insane headcanons tbh, the rest were fine, bit of an overreaction looool this is tame in comparison to my ao3 works. my god i need my daily cuppa where is it. this reminds me of when i was a wee teenager and experienced akechi from p5 for the first time. changed my trajectory fr. thanks akechi goro u saved ruined me

#my god im so deep inside (anaxa)#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #anaxa x reader #hsr anaxa #honkai star rail #hsr #anaxa

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tartagliove · 2 days ago

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i've been thinking about farmer boy!ajax...

stardew valley au ✧ fluff ✧ 0.6k words

The little cabin before you could use some work. There are holes in the roof, where tiles have been torn off from wind and rain and time. They match the porch that wraps around the front of the small building, wooden floorboards missing and broken—the perfect trap for you to twist your ankle in. You'll have to watch your step.

Despite all of this, the cabin is charming in its own little way. Windows line each wall of the house. Although dust and cobwebs cling to the glass, they just need a good scrub before sunlight will stream inside all day long. You'll get the best view of the sun rising and setting upon gently sloping fields, which someday will be vibrant with colors and life.

That's the dream, at least.

For now, it's just you and the run-down cabin that could use a bit of love and work before you turn it into your new home. You, your cabin, the birds that warble a high-pitched melody from the trees, and the ginger-haired boy who leans against the rotting wooden fence that lines your property.

You flinch in surprise, spinning to face the stranger.

The first thing you notice is that he's not a boy at all. He certainly looks young, with tousled coppery hair, blue eyes that remind you more of the ocean than the sky, and rather fair skin that is interrupted by constellations of freckles. But the well defined muscles that flex and shift under a pair of denim overalls, and the handful of scars that litter his body only point to years of hard, physical labor.

He holds himself with ease, resting his forearms on your fence. This only serves to broaden his shoulders as he takes his time studying you as you've been doing to him. His eyes seem to blaze a trail as they roam across your body, taking in the nearly pristine sneakers and the stiff new backpack, along with the long-sleeved shirt that clings to your arms from humidity and sweat of the countryside.

"What's a pretty city-dweller like you doing out here on an abandoned farm, hm?" he asks, one brow raised, amusement dancing on his lips.

You fiddle with your fingers, the flutter that runs through you at the hidden compliment overridden by embarrassment that he's already able to tell where you're from. You look nothing like the seasoned farmer that he is, his fingers calloused and scarred.

"It's not abandoned," you say, a bit of indignation in your voice as you straighten your back and stare at him in determination, unwilling to flinch from his all-consuming gaze. "Not anymore, at least. I live here now."

A smile properly stretches across his face. "Oh, really? That makes us neighbors, then. I’m Ajax."

He offers his hand, and you take a few steps forward to grasp it. His grip is warm and firm; a bit rough compared to your own. You shake, once, twice, then release, pulling your hand behind you as if it will help you forget the feeling of his wrapped around yours.

He chuckles and tosses you another grin, pleased. "I’ll see you around then, farmer."

His taunting tone is irritating. The heat you’re feeling is certainly not due to the way he walks away, well-defined back framed by the blue straps of his overalls.

You don’t learn much about your new neighbor from this interaction, but you are sure about one thing. He certainly is not just a farmer boy.

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surielstea · 2 days ago

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Dancing With Fate - III

Read part one and two first!

Pairing: Nyx x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Nyx and Reader are advancing in their relationship, now in the Day court where they can spend time together without fear of getting caught.

Warnings: A little heated kissing but this is just a fluff chapter!

A.Note: Guysss this little series is about to get so good and juicy I promise, also please vote on this poll for what you’d like to see in the next chapter!

Wordcount: 7.5k

The morning I was set to leave, Spring Court's estate felt suffocating. The weight of my father's expectations, the ever-watchful eyes of the sentries, the knowledge that I was slipping away not just for a visit—but for him—pressed down on me. I told myself it wasn't a lie. I was going to see Lucien. I was supposed to be there. But deep in my chest, the bond hummed, whispering truths I couldn't ignore.

I could still feel his lips on mine, the press of his hands at my waist, the quiet promise he had left me with before I winnowed away. Three days. It had felt like an eternity. Now that the time had come, I found myself glancing over my shoulder as I crossed the courtyard, my pulse quickening with every step toward the open lands of Spring.

My father had been surprisingly agreeable when I asked to visit Lucien—perhaps because I rarely asked for anything at all. Perhaps because it was easier for him to believe I sought an escape rather than suspect the truth. Either way, the approval had been granted after minor convincing.

I let out a slow breath, focusing on my destination as I prepared to winnow.

The air shimmered around me, and with a final glance at my home—if it could even be called that—I vanished.

The Day Court was a world of golden light and sprawling dunes, a kingdom carved from the sun itself. I landed on one of its marble pathways, the heat instantly settling over my skin like a second layer. White and gold towers stretched toward the sky, the brilliance of them nearly blinding.

Lucien was already waiting.

He leaned against one of the courtyard pillars, arms crossed, his red hair catching the sunlight in hues of copper and fire. He arched a brow the moment I appeared, pushing off the pillar with a lazy sort of grace.

"You're on time," he mused. "Did the skies part for a miracle, or are you actually excited to see me?"

I rolled my eyes, falling into step beside him as he led me toward the palace. "Don't flatter yourself, Lucien. I'm just desperate for decent company."

His chuckle was warm, genuine, but his sharp gaze flickered over me, assessing. Lucien always noticed more than he let on. "And here I thought Spring Court was finally growing on you."

I scoffed. "Like poison."

Lucien didn't argue. He simply guided me through the sunlit halls, the scent of citrus and sea breeze drifting through the open archways. But I could feel the words he wanted to say pressing against his tongue.

"Go on," I said finally. "Say whatever it is you're thinking before you combust."

He cast me a knowing glance. "You have a look about you."

I blinked. "A look?"

"A very particular look." He stopped in front of a set of golden doors, his expression unreadable. "The kind that usually means trouble."

I fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "You're imagining things."

"I've known you since you were six," Lucien huffed a quiet laugh, pushing the doors open. "But if you say so."

The throne room was empty when we stepped inside. Not that I expected anything different—Lucien had told me Helion would be absent for the week, handling an issue near the borders. It made my request easier, less complicated.

"How long will I be staying?" I asked, trailing a hand along the intricate carvings of the marble table.

"As long as you need," Lucien answered, his voice easy, but his gaze watchful. "But your father expects a week. Don't get any ideas."

I turned to him, weighing my words carefully. "You did say I could visit whenever I wanted."

"That, I did," he acknowledged. "But I also know you don't make casual trips anywhere. So either you've grown fond of me—" He smirked. "—or there's something else going on."

I hesitated, the bond thrumming softly in my chest. Nyx would be here soon. I could feel it, that gentle pull like a tide calling me home.

"I just need time," I said finally. "Time away from Spring. Time to breathe."

Lucien studied me, his expression softening just slightly. Then he nodded. "Then you'll have it."

Relief flooded through me, but before I could thank him, the air behind me stirred.

The scent of summer rain and star-kissed skies filled the room.

My breath caught.

Lucien's lips twitched, amusement flashing in his russet eye as he glanced past me. "Right. Now this all makes sense."

I turned, and there he was.

Nyx stood in the archway, clad in deep blue, his dark hair tousled by the wind. His sapphire eyes locked onto mine, something unreadable flickering within them.

A slow, lazy smirk curved his lips. "Miss me, princess?"

Lucien let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Cauldron boil me. You do have a look about you."

Nyx didn't hesitate as he crossed the room, moving with that effortless confidence that made it impossible to look away. Like the world had never given him a reason to doubt himself. Like he belonged here, with me.

The bond hummed softly in my chest as he stopped a few feet away, his gaze settling on Lucien with a quiet, knowing amusement.

Lucien, for his part, didn't seem surprised. He just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling a sharp look at me. "So. This is why you came."

I winced. "Lucien—"

He held up a hand. "Tell me the truth. How long has this been going on?"

I hesitated, stealing a glance at Nyx, who only smirked. Smug bastard. "It's...new."

Lucien arched a brow. "New?"

"Three days," Nyx supplied unhelpfully, rocking back on his heels. "Well, three days since she kissed me."

Lucien's eye twitched. I swatted Nyx's arm.

"Since we kissed," I corrected.

Lucien's gaze flicked between us, unimpressed. Then he exhaled heavily. "And your parents?"

My stomach twisted. I dropped my gaze, my fingers curling into the sleeves of Nyx's jacket. "None of them know."

Lucien let out a short, humorless laugh. "Gods, just like your parents. Just like them." He ran a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. "Why do both of your families insist on making my life difficult?"

"Lucien—" I started, guilt pressing into my ribs.

"I know, Fawn," he interrupted, shaking his head. "You're good. You're okay."

I exhaled, my shoulders loosening slightly. I hated using Lucien's kindness like this, but I needed this. I needed to be here, needed him.

Lucien gave me a long, considering look before sighing dramatically. "My wife will be thrilled that Nyx is visiting, so I suppose you can stay." He gave a look of acknowledgment to the heir of Night.

Nyx dipped his head in gratitude, but before he could respond, Lucien turned to him fully with a sharp, easy threat. "Though, if you hurt her, and I'll be sending armies to your doorstep."

I groaned. "Uncle—"

"Completely understood," Nyx said, ignoring my protests.

Lucien only huffed, then turned toward the open archway. "Come on, Your Highness, let's get you settled before I regret my entire existence."

Nyx winked at me before following, falling into step beside him as they led me through the sunlit halls.

—

Lucien's home within the Day Court was smaller than the palace itself but no less grand. The rooms were warm, decorated in golds and creams, with sweeping balconies that overlooked the distant dunes.

Lucien pushed open a set of doors, revealing a guest suite. "This is for her," he said pointedly, flicking his gaze to Nyx. "You, however, can take the room down the hall."

Nyx smirked. "Separate rooms? What do you take me for, Vanserra?"

Lucien gave him a deadpan stare. "Someone with a death wish."

I stepped inside before they could continue, rolling my eyes. "You two are worse than children."

Nyx only chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as I took in the space. It was lovely—soft linens, airy curtains, a private balcony that bathed the room in golden light, and a ginormous bathtub sunken into the floor like the room's very own indoor pool. All this for a guest?

I was going to tease Lucien about it but when I turned back, Nyx was watching me carefully.

"We don't have long," he murmured, the humor fading just slightly from his voice.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. "I know."

Lucien cleared his throat. "Right. That's my cue to leave." He shot me a look, something softer beneath his usual exasperation. "Get some rest, Fawn. Meet me for breakfast in the morning."

I nodded, and with one last warning glance at Nyx, he slipped out.

Silence settled.

Nyx didn't move from the door. He just looked at me, something unreadable in his expression.

Three days. Three days without him, and yet the pull between us was stronger than ever.

I let out a slow breath. "I missed you."

Nyx's smile was slow, knowing. He stepped closer, hands bracing on either side of the doorframe. "Yeah?"

My pulse fluttered. But I refused to look away. "Yeah."

Nyx hummed, gaze sweeping over me like he was committing me to memory.

"C'mere then." He gives me one of those signature smirks.

I let go of the grip I had on my dress as I approached him, suppressed smile on my face.

His eyes follow me, watching my every movement as I come closer but not making a move to cross the threshold of my bedroom.

I peer up at him through my lashes, blinking once, twice. Then, "I missed you too," He murmured, leaning down and sealing a gentle kiss to my aching lips.

I pulled away first, and immediately regretted it the moment his lips left mine.

But he moved away, and with a quiet, secretive grin, he murmured, "Come find me when you can't sleep."

And just like that, he was gone.

—

Sleep evaded me.

I had tried—tried curling into the soft sheets, tried counting my breaths, tried pretending the bond wasn't a tangible thing pulling me toward the other side of the hall. But it was no use. The awareness of him, of Nyx, was a whisper against my skin, a constant hum in my chest.

With a soft exhale, I pushed back the covers and slipped out of my room.

The halls were quiet, bathed in moonlight. The Day Court at night had a different kind of beauty—soft, glowing, endless. I made my way toward his room, heart hammering for reasons I wasn't ready to name.

Nyx must have sensed me before I even reached the door, because the moment I lifted my fist to knock, it swung open.

He stood there, leaning lazily against the frame, shirtless, like he had been waiting. His smirk was immediate. "Couldn't stay away, Princess?"

I rolled my eyes, brushing past him into the room and inviting myself in. "Don't flatter yourself."

His room was similar to mine, only slightly smaller, with the same open balcony letting in the cool night air. The scent of him—night-blooming jasmine, crisp wind, something uniquely Nyx—wrapped around me instantly.

I turned just as he shut the door, crossing his arms. "So, what's keeping you up? Me?" His grin was all arrogance.

I huffed. "The bond."

Nyx's eyes darkened slightly, but he still managed a chuckle. "I am the bond, sweetheart."

Heat bloomed in my chest, but I ignored it, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed with a casual grace. "We should talk about it."

Nyx arched a brow. "About how wildly in love with me you already are?"

I tossed a glare at him. He returned it with a laugh, his sapphire eyes somehow beckoning me closer. "Alright," he said, quieter this time. "Let's talk."

I swallowed, unsure where to begin. "Are we...accepting it while we're here?"

Nyx's expression turned thoughtful, something softer creeping into his gaze. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't want to rush you," he said, voice low, steady. "But I also don't want to pretend it's not there."

I nodded slowly. That was the problem. The bond was there, a silent, unyielding thing, urging us closer. Ignoring it felt unnatural. But accepting it—fully—was irreversible. And rejecting it, for some reason, was out of the question.

Nyx must have sensed my hesitation because his lips twitched. "You know," he mused, a grin on his lips that could only mean trouble, "Lucien and Elain's rooms are at the opposite end of the hall."

I blinked, confused. "And?"

He smirked. "So if there are any... aftereffects of us accepting the bond, they won't hear a thing."

Heat flooded my face. "Nyx."

He grinned. "Just saying, if you're worried about keeping them up—"

"Nyx." I smacked his arm, and he just laughed, catching my wrist with ease.

With a soft tug, he pulled me forward until I was standing between his legs. My breath hitched as he peered up at me, his grip warm, steady.

"You're overthinking it," he murmured.

I bit my lip tentatively. "It's a lot to think about."

His hands slid up my arms, slow and careful, like he was mapping out the places he could touch, where I would let him. "Then don't think," he whispered. "Just...stay."

I hesitated.

Then, finally, I let out a breath and climbed onto the bed beside him.

Nyx shifted easily, stretching out against the pillows, one arm behind his head as he watched me settle in. "See? Not so bad."

I rolled onto my side, facing him. "Don't get used to this."

"Too late," he said, grinning.

A comfortable silence stretched between us, the weight of the bond settling into something warm, something oddly familiar.

Then—

"What if we did accept it?" I asked softly, tracing patterns into the sheets with a fingertip.

Nyx was quiet for a moment. When I glanced up, his gaze had softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

"I think," he murmured, reaching over to brush his knuckles against my cheek, "it would feel like this."

"Like what?"

His thumb skimmed the corner of my mouth, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper.

"Like something I don't ever want to stop."

A shiver ran through me, but I forced myself to scoff. "You're so dramatic."

He chuckled, his hand drifting away, but not before his fingers brushed against my wrist, lingering. "You love it."

I did. I really, really did.

Nyx was still watching me, his expression unreadable but utterly devastating. His fingers, still barely brushing against mine, curled slightly, testing.

I should have pulled away. Should have ignored the way the space between us felt unbearable, like a string stretched too tight, ready to snap.

Instead, I turned my hand over, letting our fingers fully intertwine.

Nyx inhaled sharply.

His other hand lifted, tracing the shape of my jaw before tilting my chin up ever so slightly. His touch was featherlight, like he was waiting for me to pull back, to stop this before it started.

I didn't. I couldn't.

His eyes darkened, and I barely had time to take a breath before his lips brushed against mine.

Soft, at first. A question. I answered by pressing closer, hand against his hard chest.

Nyx groaned, low in his throat, and then he was kissing me in earnest, his hand sliding to cup the back of my neck, pulling me flush against him.

Heat curled through me, my body igniting at the sheer rightness of it—of him. His lips moved against mine with slow, devastating precision, coaxing, deepening.

I gasped as his teeth grazed my lower lip, and he took the opportunity to press even closer, his tongue sweeping into my mouth in a way that had my fingers running up his nape and tangling in his hair, pulling, needing.

Nyx growled softly, his grip tightening, his body shifting so that I was beneath him now, the weight of him pressing into me in the most delicious way.

I should have stopped him. Should have reminded him that Lucien and Elain were likely eavesdropping, that this wasn't what we came here for.

But all I could do was gasp against his lips, drowning in him as he kissed me like he'd been waiting a lifetime to do so.

And maybe he had.

The tether between us hummed, alive, crackling like a storm ready to break. My entire body felt like it was on fire, burning for something I wasn't sure I was ready for—but gods, did I want it.

Nyx pulled away just enough to press his forehead against mine, his breaths ragged, uneven. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against mine. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

I didn't say anything.

Because I didn't want him to stop.

Instead, I tightened my grip in his hair and kissed him again.

Nyx practically purred, deepening the kiss instantly, his hands sliding down my sides, gripping my waist like he was trying to anchor himself. I whimpered as he tilted my head back, his lips tracing a path along my jaw, down my throat—

I shuddered. "Nyx—"

He froze, his breathing heavy. "Too much?"

I hesitated, my mind hazy, body thrumming, aching. I didn't want to stop, didn't want this night to end—but I knew if we kept going, if I let him keep kissing me like this, there would be no turning back.

Slowly, I nodded.

Nyx let out a shaky breath, then pressed a lingering kiss to my shoulder before rolling onto his back, dragging me with him. His arm curled around my waist, keeping me tucked against his side.

I pressed my face into his chest, inhaling deeply. His heart was racing.

"Sleep, Princess," he murmured against my hair, pressing a final kiss to my forehead.

I exhaled softly, my body still humming, my lips still tingling, my heart still pounding.

But as Nyx's warmth surrounded me, as his arms tightened slightly around me, I found that—for the first time all night—I was finally at peace.

And sleep came easily.

The warmth of the Day Court sun streamed in through the open balcony doors, golden light spilling over the plush bedding and dancing across the smooth marble floors. A gentle breeze carried the scent of citrus and wildflowers, and the distant sound of birdsong filled the air—soft, melodic, impossibly peaceful.

I stretched beneath the silk sheets, the remnants of sleep clinging to my limbs. Nyx's steady breathing was warm against my neck, his arm a heavy weight draped over my waist. The bond hummed between us, quiet, content.

Carefully, I slipped from his grasp, his fingers twitching slightly in protest but aside from that he didn't stir.

I smiled to myself, watching as he burrowed further into the pillows that likely smelled of me, the golden light turning his midnight-dark hair almost copper in the morning glow.

For a male who spent so much time under the stars, he certainly slept through the hours of night like a log.

Shaking my head fondly, I padded across the room, stepping out into the hallway and making my way back to my own quarters across the hall.

The Day Court truly was beautiful in the morning—the soft glow of the sun filtering through sheer golden curtains, the air crisp and warm all at once. By the time I reached my room, I was fully awake, the peaceful hum of the court settling over me like a second skin.

I dressed in a white silk gown, the fabric flowing like liquid over my frame, cinched at the waist with a delicate golden belt. My jewelry was plentiful—thin, glimmering chains draped over my collarbones, golden cuffs sliding up my arms, rings adorning my fingers.

I had just finished fastening the final piece of jewelry when the door behind me creaked open.

I caught his reflection in the mirror before he could even enter.

Nyx stood in the doorway, his hair an absolute mess, his eyes heavy with sleep. He hadn't bothered with a shirt, his bare chest golden in the sunlight, the tattooed whorls of the night sky on his skin dark against the warm glow. He was beautiful—in that utterly devastating, ruinous kind of way.

He said nothing as he crossed the room, his steps slow, languid, his body still half-asleep.

Then his arms were sliding around my shoulders, his bare chest pressing against my back, his face tucking into the crook of my neck. His lips brushed against my skin—soft, lingering.

"Come back to bed," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

I smiled, meeting his gaze in the mirror as he sighed against my skin. "You are such a night owl."

One of his hands trailed up my arm, fingers ghosting over the golden cuffs there. "That's because I am Night," he grumbled. "It's unnatural for me to be awake this early."

I huffed a quiet laugh, reaching up to lace my fingers with his where they rested on my shoulder. "And yet, you're awake."

"I wouldn't be if you hadn't abandoned me." His lips brushed over my throat again, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I have breakfast with Lucien," I reminded him, though the words were already losing their strength.

Nyx hummed, as if considering coercing me out of that particular plan. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers curling around my waist as he exhaled against my skin. "Or," he suggested, his voice a low murmur, "you could stay."

I turned in his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to murmur, "I'll be back soon."

Nyx sighed, dramatically, his hands tracing slow circles along my back. "You're cruel," he muttered.

I grinned, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You'll live."

"Debatable."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could move, he kissed me again—slow, lazy, lingering. By the time he pulled away, I had half a mind to actually abandon breakfast.

But I forced myself to step back, smoothing my gown as I gave him a knowing look. "Go back to sleep, Night Prince."

Nyx smirked, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that was far too awake for someone who had been dead to the world only minutes ago. "You'll come find me after?"

I nodded. "I'll come find you after."

Seemingly satisfied, he took a slow step backward, his lips twitching. "Enjoy breakfast, princess," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't miss me too much."

I barely resisted the urge to throw a pillow at him as I slipped out the door.

The Day Court's dining terrace overlooked a sprawling garden, the morning sunlight painting the marble floors in warm golds and soft whites. A faint citrus breeze carried through the open-air space, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread, honeyed fruit, and roasted coffee.

Lucien was already seated at the table, a cup of tea in one hand, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"Good morning, Fawn," he greeted, setting his cup down as I slid into the chair across from him.

I sighed, reaching for a slice of peach from the array of food laid before us. "I knew I should have stayed in bed."

Lucien chuckled, reaching for his own plate. "You wound me. I would have thought you'd missed me."

"I did," I admitted, which earned me a pleased look. "But I also knew that my first morning here would be spent with you poking at me like a bored hound with a bone."

Lucien hummed, popping a grape into his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest. "You make it sound so terrible."

I gave him a dry look. "You live for gossip."

"And you have been supplying me with an endless amount of it," he countered, flashing a sharp grin. "You and the heir to the Night Court, sneaking around behind your father's back?" He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Do you know how much restraint it takes for me not to send a letter to Tamlin about this?"

I nearly choked on my tea. "You wouldn't."

Lucien's russet eye twinkled with mischief. "Wouldn't I?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, but there was no real threat in my stare. He was teasing—mostly. "You wouldn't because I'm your favorite."

Lucien let out a bark of laughter. "You think that's enough to keep me quiet?"

I plucked a croissant from the basket, tearing off a piece with deliberate slowness. "I also brought Nyx with me, which means Elain is getting a visit from her favorite nephew," I said sweetly. "And I doubt she'd be pleased if his visit was cut short by some ill-timed news reaching Spring."

Lucien raised a brow, amused. "Using my wife against me? Low blow."

"You leave me no choice."

He chuckled, shaking his head before taking a sip of his tea. "Fine, your secret is safe with me. For now."

I exhaled in relief, but he wasn't done.

"So," he continued, smirking, "do you always sneak into his bed, or was last night a special occasion?"

I set my croissant down with exaggerated care. "You are insufferable."

Lucien grinned, positively delighted. "Oh, come now. I'm merely curious."

I sighed, shaking my head. "And here I thought you wanted to talk about Spring."

Lucien's expression didn't shift, but I saw the flicker of something—wariness, perhaps, or exhaustion—pass through his russet eye before he settled back into that smooth, unbothered demeanor.

"You want to talk about Spring?" he mused, sipping at his tea. "Now that's a first."

I hesitated, fingers toying with the edge of my napkin. "It's been... stable?"

Lucien huffed a quiet laugh. "Stable is one word for it."

I lifted a brow, silently urging him to continue.

He sighed, swirling his tea in his cup. "Your father is as he always is. Withdrawn. Distrustful. Trying to mend what little he has left, though his attempts have been... half-hearted, at best." A pause, then a softer, "He does love you, you know. Don't take that for granted."

I looked down at my plate, a strange weight pressing against my ribs. "I know, I try not to. I love him too."

Lucien sighed, setting his cup down. "Well, that was depressing."

I let out a weak laugh, grateful for the shift in subject. "You brought it up."

"Yes, but now I regret it," he muttered before shooting me a sidelong glance, that familiar smirk returning. "Luckily, we have a much juicier topic to discuss."

I groaned. "Lucien—"

He ignored my warning tone, lips twitching. "How was sleeping with the Night Court's heir?"

"I hate you."

"Did you snuggle?" He grinned. "You did, didn't you?"

I picked up my spoon, debating throwing it at his head.

Lucien laughed, positively beaming. "Oh, this is delightful."

"You are the worst."

"I am," he agreed, unbothered. "But I'm also right."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I am never telling you anything ever again."

Lucien simply smiled, far too pleased with himself.

And somehow, despite his relentless teasing, breakfast was... nice. Easy, even.

Lucien had always been that way—quick-witted, sharp-tongued, but warm beneath it all. And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to enjoy that warmth, even as he smirked knowingly over the rim of his tea cup.

The soft pad of footsteps against marble had me glancing up just as Elain entered the terrace, sunlight catching in the golden waves of her hair. She was radiant in the morning glow, dressed in a pale yellow gown that complemented the warmth of her brown eyes.

Lucien's teasing stopped instantly.

His gaze softened, his entire being seeming to realign as he turned toward his mate. The smug amusement he had wielded so effortlessly moments ago melted into something quieter, something devotional, as if Elain were the only thing in existence.

"Good morning, my love," Lucien greeted, rising smoothly to pull out a chair for her.

Elain smiled at him, a soft, knowing thing, before placing a kiss on his cheek and settling into her seat. "Good morning," she replied before glancing at me, her expression warm. "I'm so happy you're here."

I smiled back, genuinely. "I'm happy to be here."

She took a sip of tea before asking, "What do you have planned for today?"

I glanced at Lucien, who was too busy staring at his mate to contribute to the conversation, then looked back at Elain with an amused huff. "That depends on what there is to do in the Day Court."

Elain brightened. "Oh, there's so much. The markets are always lovely in the mornings, and later today there will be a performance in the amphitheater—music, dance, sometimes storytelling, depending on the day. We could also visit the gardens."

At that, Lucien seemed to shake himself from his daze just long enough to say, "She loves the gardens."

Elain laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "I do."

The moment their hands touched, Lucien's thumb traced small circles over her knuckles, his russet eye drinking her in as if he hadn't seen her in ages, as if she were the only thing tethering him to this world.

I looked away, feeling like an intruder on something sacred.

Instead, I focused on my tea, swirling it in my cup before Elain's next words had me stiffening.

"And what about you?" she asked gently. "What do you have planned with Nyx?"

Lucien tensed beside her at the mention of his nephew but, surprisingly, didn't interrupt.

I hesitated before answering. "I... don't know yet."

Elain tilted her head slightly, studying me. "You two seem happy."

A small, shy smile tugged at my lips despite myself. "It's... new."

Her expression softened. "New can be wonderful."

I glanced at Lucien then, at the way his entire world seemed to orbit Elain, at the ease with which they simply existed together.

They had a love that was constant, unshaken. One that didn't need to be loud or demanding, because it was felt—in the way Lucien always reached for Elain without thinking, in the way she always seemed to understand him without words.

I wanted that.

I wanted something sure. Something safe. Something like them.

Elain must have seen something in my expression, because she reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "You'll find your way," she assured me, voice as soft as the morning light.

I swallowed, nodding. "I hope so."

Breakfast ended not long after, Lucien and Elain caught in their own little world as I excused myself.

I walked back to my room slowly, heart and mind tangled in thoughts of what I wanted—of him.

And of whether or not we would ever have something like the love I had just witnessed.

I pushed open the door to my room, the silk of my gown whispering against the marble floor as I stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was the mess of dark hair sprawled across my pillows, the sheets tangled around long limbs and bare skin.

Nyx had crawled into bed. My bed.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "You do know you have your own room, right?"

A low, sleepy groan rumbled from the depths of my blankets, his face still buried in my pillow. "Too far," he mumbled.

I snorted. "It's across the hall."

"Exactly," he sighed dramatically, cracking one sleepy eye open. His voice was heavy with drowsiness, warm and lazy in a way that made something in my chest tighten. "Besides, your bed smells better."

I raised a brow. "That's not a compliment if you're just stealing."

He grinned, stretching like a cat before reaching a hand out for me. "Come here."

"Absolutely not."

His lips tilted into something smug. "Oh?"

"Nyx, it's nearly noon."

"So?" He patted the space beside him. "Come lay down."

I laughed, shaking my head as I stepped closer to the bed. "You are so lazy."

"Excuse me," he feigned offense, propping himself up on an elbow, hair a tousled mess. "I am strategic in my rest."

I huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed, but the moment I did, he was moving—strong arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me down beside him.

"Nyx!" I yelped, but he only laughed, tucking his face into the crook of my neck.

"There we go," he murmured, his lips pressing against my skin in a way that was entirely unfair. "Much better."

I sighed, pretending to be put out even as I melted into the warmth of him. "You are impossible."

"You love it."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my jaw. The argument died in my throat.

"You look beautiful," he murmured against my skin, his voice still thick with sleep. "Does every court suit you? Or are you just naturally perfect?"

A rush of heat curled in my chest. "Flattery will not get you out of trouble."

He hummed, brushing his nose along my cheek before stealing a kiss from my lips. "Five minutes," he mused, brushing another kiss over the corner of my mouth. "Just five and then we can get up."

"Fine. Five minutes." I lean into him, melting into the warmth that was his skin.

He kissed me again, slower this time as if savoring the remnants of whatever sweetness still lingered. "Lucien didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

I huffed a laugh, playing with the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. "Lucien is always a menace."

Nyx chuckled, his breath warm against my lips. "I bet he was insufferable."

"He was fine," I admitted, tracing a lazy pattern against his bare shoulder. "Elain joined us."

He tilted his head, brows lifting slightly. "Oh?"

I nodded. "She asked about you."

His lips curled. "And what did you say?"

"That you are insufferable, whiny, and prone to excessive dramatics."

Nyx gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Whiny?"

I grinned. "You are."

He narrowed his eyes playfully. "So harsh, princess."

I laughed, but the sound faded as he brushed his fingers over my cheek, his expression softening. "Did you sleep well?"

I hesitated before nodding. "I did."

"Good." He kissed me again, slow and sweet, his thumb brushing against my jaw. "I like waking up with you—even though you left me before I could."

Something inside me melted at the confession, at the sincerity in his voice.

I bit my lip, trying to fight back a smile. "You're so soft when you're sleepy."

He groaned, flopping onto his back. "And the moment is ruined."

I laughed, rolling onto my side to look down at him. "Come on, Nyx. Admit it."

His arm flung over his eyes. "Never."

I grinned, leaning down to press a teasing kiss against his jaw. "I like it."

His breath hitched slightly, but his arms wound around me again, pulling me closer.

And as I settled into the warmth of him, into the safety of his embrace, I realized—this, whatever we were becoming, whatever this bond between us was shaping into—felt new and foreign.

But gods, it was lovely.

After fifteen minutes Nyx still had me caged against him, his arms wrapped securely around my waist as if he had no intention of letting me leave. Every time I so much as shifted, his grip tightened, and a pleased hum rumbled in his throat.

"Nyx," I warned, pressing my hands against his bare chest, though my voice lacked any real heat.

"Mmm," he murmured lazily, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his lips ghosting over my skin. "Five more minutes."

I huffed, though the way my body betrayed me—melting into his warmth, my fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders—was not helping my case. "You said that fifteen minutes ago."

"I don't recall."

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "You're impossible."

He lifted his head slightly, his messy dark hair falling into his sleepy eyes. "And yet, you're still here."

I scowled at him, but it was utterly ineffective given the way my face was burning.

His grin widened. "You like this."

"No, I don't."

Nyx hummed, unconvinced. "Sure you don't." Then, as if to prove his point, he kissed me—slow and indulgent, his lips warm and sure against mine. My breath caught, my fingers tightening against his skin.

His hands roamed lazily, tracing along my waist, my back, settling just beneath the curve of my ribs. "You're so soft," he mused between kisses, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness. "So warm."

I glared at him, my face burning. "You're so full of yourself."

His chuckle was dark and teasing. "Only because you make it so easy, Princess."

I groaned, flopping onto my back as he propped himself up on an elbow, hovering over me with a stupidly satisfied expression. "You are so lucky left my daggers in Spring."

Nyx only grinned, dipping down to nip at my jaw, his voice warm with amusement. "I'd like to see you try."

I shoved at his shoulder, but he barely budged. His weight was solid and steady against me, and I knew—knew—that I could have pushed him away if I wanted to. But I didn't.

Nyx's fingers skimmed along my arm, down to my wrist, to where he laced our fingers together. "Are you going to stay here with me?"

"I have things to do, you know."

"Like what?" He raised a brow, his nose brushing against mine. "Surely nothing more interesting than me."

I snorted. "You'd be surprised."

He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Now that is just cruel."

I rolled my eyes, lifting a hand to comb through his messy hair, smoothing it back. His eyes fluttered shut at the touch, and my heart did something ridiculous in my chest.

I swallowed, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. "You're so clingy."

His eyes opened, a lazy smirk curling his lips. "And you love it."

I huffed, but my lips twitched despite myself. "Maybe a little."

Nyx's expression softened, his fingers brushing my cheek as he leaned in. "Good."

His mouth pressed against mine again, stealing whatever breath I had left. My heart raced, my fingers fisting in the fabric of the sheets as his hand traced down, over the silk of my gown, teasing along my thigh. His touch burned—not in a way that made me want to pull away, but in a way that made me want more.

And that should have terrified me. It didn't.

It only made me want to hold onto him tighter, to let myself fall.

I exhaled shakily when he finally pulled away, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth. He was still watching me, waiting.

And gods, I knew. I knew.

The mating bond shimmered between us, pulsing, undeniable. I could feel it, pulling me closer to him with every breath, every heartbeat.

I wanted it.

Screw that our parents didn't know. Screw that this would be irreversible. That once we accepted it, there was no undoing it, no way for them to separate us even if they tried.

I wanted this. I wanted him.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of what that meant.

"Nyx?"

"Princess?" he drawled, his voice thick with warmth, teasing as he brushed his fingers over my wrist.

I hesitated for a moment before saying, "Can you teach me how to block you out of my head?"

Nyx's lips twitched. "You mean my Daemati powers?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He hummed in thought, tilting his head. "Of course. Though, why the sudden interest?"

I kept my expression carefully neutral, knowing full well he'd see right through me if I wasn't careful. "Just seems like a good skill to have."

Nyx studied me for a long moment before his lips curved in amusement. "You're a terrible liar."

I scowled. "Am not."

He laughed, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Alright, alright. Come here."

I let him shift us so I was sitting cross-legged in front of him, his hands resting lightly on my knees. His gaze softened, the usual teasing glint dimming just slightly as he said, "I want you to imagine a wall in your mind. Something strong. Something unbreakable."

"A wall," I repeated, frowning.

"Yes. Picture it. And then focus on reinforcing it. Make it thick, make it impenetrable." His thumb traced circles against my knee as he watched me carefully.

I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly as I tried to summon that wall.

"Good," he murmured. "Now, I'm going to push just a little—try not to let me in."

I gritted my teeth as I felt the gentle probing at the edges of my mind. It was strange—like a featherlight touch, testing the defenses I'd barely managed to put up.

"Your wall is shaky," Nyx noted, the laughter in his voice evident. "I could break through it in an instant."

I cracked an eye open to glare at him. "You're so encouraging."

He grinned. "I'm just being honest."

I huffed, closing my eyes again and focusing, really focusing, on that barrier. I imagined thick, towering walls, impenetrable and unwavering. I strengthened them, bracing them against his presence.

Nyx hummed in approval. "Better."

A moment passed.

Then another.

And then—

"Huh," he muttered.

I opened my eyes to find him blinking at me, mildly impressed. "What?"

"You actually did it." He tapped his temple. "Can't hear a thing."

I grinned, triumphant. "Told you I could do it."

Nyx chuckled, his hands sliding up to my waist as he pulled me toward him. "I could still break it." He makes clear. "But now I can't hear em' unless I want to."

I smiled softly, "Good enough for me."

Then he kissed me.

Slow and deep, as if savoring the taste of victory along with me. His hands traced up my spine, his touch warm and steady as he pressed me closer. I melted into him, tilting my head to give him better access as his lips moved against mine with aching patience.

It was a reward, and I greedily took it.

When we finally parted, his lips trailed down my jaw, over the sensitive skin of my neck. "I should teach you things more often," he murmured against my skin, the words sending a shiver down my spine.

I swatted at his shoulder, but it was weak at best. "Behave."

He laughed, the sound muffled against my throat as he kissed a slow path back up to my mouth. "Not a chance."

I sighed, allowing myself to collapse onto the mattress, tugging him down with me. Nyx followed willingly, draping himself over me as if he had no intention of moving anytime soon.

"So," he mused, his lips brushing my shoulder, my collarbone, my jaw. "What do you want to do today?"

We eventually collapsed back onto the bed, tangled together. His hands roamed lazily, his lips finding every inch of bare skin he could reach. Between kisses, we murmured about what we could do today—halfheartedly listing off places we knew we wouldn't go, tasks we knew we wouldn't complete.

"We could go for a ride?" I suggested idly.

Nyx hummed, lips brushing my collarbone. "Mmm, sounds nice." His fingers traced circles on my hip. "Or we could stay right here."

"Lazy," I teased, though I had no intention of moving either.

He nipped at my shoulder in retaliation, making me squeak. "Not lazy," he corrected. "Just—" He kissed the corner of my mouth. "Comfortable." Another kiss on my cheek. "Perfectly, completely comfortable."

My heart thudded, my fingers tightening around his bicep. I could still feel the bond shimmering between us, waiting.

Waiting for me. Because he seemed to have already decided that accepting it was his only choice, the only one he'd acknowledge at least.

Nyx pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his expression soft, but unreadable. "What?" he murmured.

I swallowed hard, smoothing my hand over his chest. "Nothing," I whispered.

Not yet.

He searched my face, but I knew he wouldn't find anything—not now. Because I had learned how to block him out. Because the next time I opened my mind to him, it would be on my terms. A choice. A gift.

Nyx pressed one last kiss to my lips before sighing, letting his head drop against the pillow. I curled into his warmth, letting my eyes drift shut, a secret burning in my chest.

The next time I let him in would be when I was ready to accept the bond. And I wanted it to be somewhat of a surprise.

Which meant he had to stay out of my mind—just for a few days. Just long enough for me to do what I had already decided.

What I knew I wanted.

I glanced at him then, at the male who had stolen my heart in the span of a few weeks, at the way he watched me with that easy, knowing smirk—completely unaware of what was coming.

A slow smile curled on my lips.

What I wanted.

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larluce · 3 days ago

Text

Merlin arrives with a baby in Camelot AU

(co-writing with @roxineedstosleep )

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

Chapter 2: A Baby's Call (Part 2)

In Gaius' chambers.

Merlin: (sits down, holding the baby to feed her)

Gaius: Here (gives him a baby bottle)

Merlin: Thanks. (takes the bottle and starts feeding her. Then looks around, spots some broken things and laughs) I see the baby got you a bit of trouble too.

Gaius: She was upset when you weren't around indeed. But she calmed down eventually. (serves Merlin his food on the table) Do you want some vegetables with that?

Merlin: (snorts) I know you're still angry with me.

Gaius: Your mother asked me to look after you both. What she didn't tell me is that I'd have to look after two babies instead of one.

Merlin: I got it. I was stupid.

Gaius: (softens his expression as he looks Merlin feeding the baby, murmuring to himself) In a way, you are a baby looking after a baby.

Merlin: Uh?

Gaius: (outloud) What did your mother say to you about your gifts?

Merlin: That I'm special.

Gaius: You are both special. The likes of which I have never seen before. But it seems you are not the same kind of especial.

Merlin: (lifts his head, confused) What do you mean?

Gaius: Well, magic requires incantations, spells. It takes years to study. What you both do is elemental, instinctive. However, while your eyes glow gold when you do magic, the baby's stays the same.

Merlin: Which means...?

Gaius: I don't know. You both are a question that has never been posed before.

Merlin: Did you ever study magic?

Gaius: (pauses, hesitant) Uther banned all such work twenty years ago.

Merlin: (thinking) That's not what I asked... (says) Why?

Gaius: People used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then, even the dragons.

Merlin: (surprised) What? All of them?

Gaius: There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it.

Baby: (falls asleep) 😴

Merlin: (stands up and walks to the improvised crib they made for the baby and puts her there carefuly)

Gaius: Now, eat up. You can stay with the baby this time. I'll take Lady Helen the preparation for her voice.

Merlin: (smiles) Thank you (sits to eat, thinking) If the king managed to kill almost all the dragons. Then we can't stay here for long. I hope Gaius can contact the druids soon.

Time skip. In the Lower Town. Merlin looking for somewhere to buy milk when he encounters Arthur and his gang.

Merlin: (just passes by, ignoring them, thinking) Don't talk to me, don't talk to me, don't talk to me.

Arthur: How's your knee-walking coming along?

Merlin: (thinking) Shit... (keeps walking, ignoring them)

Arthur: (mocking) Oh, don't run away!

Merlin: (stops) From you?

Arthur: (sighs) Thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb.

Merlin: (turning) Look, I've told you you're an ass- (cuts himself, not wanting to be send to the dungeons and be taken apart from his baby again) And I apologise for that.

Arthur: (surprised) Really?

Merlin: No, but I can't exactly speak my mind without being sent to the dungeons again, can I? (smiles forcely and bows in mockery) Your Higness. Please, go bother someone else.

Arthur: (amused And curious) And if I allowed you to speak your mind?

Merlin: Will I be sent to the dungeons after that?

Arthur: No.

Merlin: The stocks?

Arthur: You have my word no harm will come to you.

Merlin: Alright. (takes a deep breath) You are a spoiled, selfish royal prat. An ungrateful little shit, blind to the suffering of those who keep you fed, clothed, and alive. Do you even know what it is to work? To bleed? To starve?

Arthur: (his smirk falls) Hold on-

Merlin: And how do you repay the people who serves you? With cruelty and mockery. You think yourself noble because of the blood in your veins, but there is nothing noble about you. You are a leech, feeding off the labor of others while contributing nothing!

People around: (gasp)

Merlin: (bows) My lord.

Arthur: (angry) How dare you. I have fought for my people since a very young age, went to dignitary visits to maintain peace between kingdoms. So yes I do know what is to bleed and to work. But of course an ignorant peasant like you wouldn't know that.

Merlin: And yet you act like an idiot, using people as targets just for fun!

Arthur: Don't pretend you know me.

Merlin: I don't NEED to know you and I don't WANT to know you. Just. Leave me. Alone.

Knights: (wait for Arthur to tell them what do)

Arthur: (furious, his jaw tensed, but shows a serious blank face) I'm a man of my word, so I will let you leave. But if I see you again I'll have you flogged.

Merlin: (with a very fake smile) Thank you so much your highness, you are so kind. (bows in mockery again and leaves)

Time skip. In Gaius' chambers.

Gaius: (enters) How could you be so foolish?!

Merlin: (changing the baby's diapers) I don't know what you're talking about.

Gaius: Don't take me for a fool! Everyone is talking about how you humilliated the prince!

Merlin: (grins) Really?

Gaius: It's not funny. You could have gotten yourself in the dungeons again!

Merlin: He was the one who gave me permission to speak my mind! So I spoke my mind. I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't and he needed someone to tell him his truths. It's not my fault he can't handle them. (finishes to change the diapers) There you are! 🤗 (lifts her)

Baby: (babbles adorably)

Gaius: (sighs) I guess I should be glad you weren't idiotic enough to get into another fight with him or use magic to toss him around.

Merlin: Oh, I was tempted. A lot. (looks at the baby fondly) But, as you said, I can't afford acting like an idiot. I have a lot more to lose if I'm discovered. (his face turns sad) You don't know why we are like this, do you?

Gaius: (shakes his head sadly) No. I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't possess that knowledge.

Merlin: (pauses) You know, I used to think I was a monster. For being the way I am. For so long I asked myself, why am I like this? Why would the Gods give me so much magic if I can't use it? What is my purpose in this world that rejects everything I am? Everytime my questions came without answers, I felt like dying.

Gaius: And now?

Merlin: (smiles fondly at the baby again) I'm holding the answers in my arms.

Time skip. In the Dragon's Cave. A deprived sleep Merlin enters.

Kilgharrah: Merlin! Until you finally answered my calls.

Merlin: (looks around for the owner of the voice, exhausted) Where are you?

Kilgharrah: (flies to land in front of Merlin) I'm here! How small you are for such a great-

Merlin: Oh, so you are the one who has been talking in my head in the middle of the night.

Kilgharrah: Indeed. As I was saying-

Merlin: I don't care what you have to say! 😡 You know how many hours I've been able to sleep these past few days?

Kilgharrah: (taken aback) Ehm...

Merlin: 3 HOURS! I can only sleep 3 hours a day, because if the baby is not crying, she is making some stuff fly or break! And if she is not making some stuff fly or break, she needs changing or cleaning! But it's okay because I have my 3 hours of sleep, my precious and sacred 3 hours of sleep. And when I finally, FINALLY find some time for my myself to have my fucking 3 hours of sleep, YOU! (points at Kilgharrah with a savage expression) INTERRUPT MY FUCKING SLEEP! 😤

Kilgharrah: ...

Merlin: So don't ever interrupt my beautiful 3 hours of sleep again or I'll make sure you are with the rest of the dragons very soon. (turns and leaves)

Kilgharrah: (watches as Merlin leaves in shock and then thinks) So there is a magic baby too? Interesting. Though I couldn't sense her (closes his eyes feeling the magic around him) And I still can't sense her. Interesting indeed.

Time skip. Next day. In Merlin's room.

Gaius: (enters Merlin's messy chamber and gathers his clothes) Oi!

Merlin: (wakes up) AH! The baby! (quickly turns to see the crib and relaxes once he sees the baby is fine)

Gaius: Have you seen the state of this room?

Merlin: (rubs his face, tired) It just happens.

Gaius: By magic? Or are you going to tell me it's the baby's fault?

Merlin: Well... (points the baby's crib where everything seems to float or move near it)

Gaius: ... It's the baby's fault.

Merlin: Yes. (yawns) And I haven't had time.

Gaius: Yeah. Well, I'll give you some time to clear it up (warns) without magic. And then I want you to get me some herbs: henbane, wormwood, and sorrel. And deliver this to Morgana. (gives him a small bag with a vial) The poor girl's suffering from nightmares, she can't hardly sleep... (gets a better look at Merlin) Although I think at this rate I'll have to make something for you too. You look terrible. (tosses some more clothes at Merlin and leaves)

Merlin: Mmm, can't hardly sleep? I know the feeling.

Time skip. In Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin: (enters the open door, eyes not really focus on anything, very sleep deprived)

Morgana: (as she walks behind her changing screen, looking just as exhausted as Merlin, but entertained by the conversation) You know, I've been thinking about Arthur. (yawns) I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole. Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?

Merlin: (pauses uncertainly before fetching the dress)

Morgana: (begins undressing) I mean, the man's a total jouster. And just because I'm the King's ward, that doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it? (yawns trying to hide it)

Merlin: (yawns too, as quietly as he can, and places the gown on the screen with slow movements, not really paying attention cause he's so SO tired)

Morgana: Well, does it?

Merlin: (manages a high pitched yawn)

Morgana: I mean, If he wants me to go... Oh, Gwen, don't tell me I'm spreading you my yawns?

Merlin: (tries to figure a way out of this situation, but he yawns louder instead)

Morgana: I thought so. Well, as I was saying- (looks over the screen, spots Merlin and covers herself quickly, screaming) AAAAH!

Merlin: (blushes furiously, very embarrased, not knowing what to do or say) Uhm... 😳

Morgana: ... You are not Gwen.

Merlin: No. 😅

Gwen: (enters) I'm here.

Merlin: (turns to her)

Gwen: Are you here to drop off Lady Morgana's medicine?

Merlin: Yes! That's exactly why I'm here. I didn't mean to- (yawns) spy or-

Gwen: (smiles) It's fine. Leave it there. (points to a small table in the entryway) Thank you, although I think you should get some rest.

Merlin: (leaves the vial where Gwen indicated and turns to Morgana, head hung in shame) I'm so sorry. (leaves quickly)

Gwen: (helps Morgana behind the screen)

Morgana: (comes out from behind the screen in a new dress) Who was that?

Gwen: A new servant it seems, my lady. And a really tired one.

Time skip. In the Banquet Hall at night. Court members gather.

Gaius: (stands on one of the walls closest to the servants' door, looking around and grabbing some snacks to put in his pockets for Merlin)

Arthur: (joking around and laughing with his companions)

Morgana: (enters with her breathtaking dress, making every men stare at her)

Arthur: (Cursing internally) Gods have mercy. (goes to her)

Morgana: (smiles at him, inocently) Hi, Arthur.

Arthur: (protective brother mode) What is it that you are wearing?

Morgana: It's called a dress. You should try it some time.

Arthur: You know what I mean. Change it.

Morgana: Why?

Arthur: It's... too revealing!

Morgana: (laughs) Who are you to tell me what to wear?

Arthur: I'm the prince!

Morgana: A prince that got humiliated by a peasant boy yesterday.

Arthur: (Taken aback) Who...who told you that?

Morgana: Everyone is talking about it. And if you keep bothering me, I'll make sure no one forgets it. (passes him)

Arthur: (fumes, but lets her be)

Merlin: (appears through the servants' door, completely in a hurry and looking for Gaius in the crowd)

Gaius: (spots him) Merlin! (approaches) I thought you were with the baby? What happened?

Merlin: (very worried parent mode) She just fell asleep, but she hasn't stopped crying! It's not her diaper or her food or a bump, I checked. Maybe is a cold. Or worst! She could be dying-

Gaius: Calm down! It's probably just colic, it happens frequently to babies that age. I have several vials labeled for that in my cabinet. (checks that the prince hasn't seen Merlin, not wanting Merlin to get into trouble again) Now, leave before-

Celebratory horns signal King Uther's entrance and everyone present falls silent and still as they notice the king passing them. The servants' entrance is blocked by all the maidservants and manservants trying to leave so as not to interrupt the king.

Merlin: (stands still next to Gaius. Unable to leave)

Uther: We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.

Applause. The music begins and Uther and the court take their seats. Merlin takes the opportunity to move through the servants who move to serve again, trying to remain unnoticed. However as he passes and Helen starts singing, Merlin notices the members of the court begin to fall asleep. Merlin covers his ears with his hands as cobwebs begin to form over the enchanted sleepers.

Merlin: (thinking, confused and scared) What... what is happening?

Lady Helen: (stares at Arthur as she walks forward and then pulls a dagger from her sleeve)

Merlin: (thinking) Wait... She wants to kill the idiot! 😱 I get the feeling, but it's wrong! Oh, what do I do, what do I do... (spots the chandelier) That's it! (magically drops the chandelier on her as she raises her arm to throw the dagger)

Court members: (wake and pull the cobwebs off, muttering, confused)

Uther and Arthur: (just as confused, stand up to see Lady Helen, now Mary Collins, lying on the floor)

Merlin: (thinking) Oh, shit. Did I kill her?

Mary Collins: (suddenly raises herself up enough to throw the dagger at Arthur)

Merlin: (slows down time instinctively to reach Arthur and pull him out of harm's way)

The dagger slices into Arthur's chair as Arthur and Merlin fall to the floor.

Mary Collins: (gives her last breath and dies)

Arthur and Merlin: (stand up)

Arthur: (thinking) What the hell is he doing here?

Uther: You saved my boy's life. A debt must be repaid.

Merlin: Oh, well. I don't really need-

Uther: Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded.

Merlin: No, honestly, you don't have to, Your Majesty. (tries to leave)

Uther: (stops him by the arm) No, absolutely. This merits something quite special.

Merlin: Well, if you insist. (thinking) I guess some money wouldn't hurt to buy some things for the baby. Just, please hurry, she'll wake up at any moment!

Uther: You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant.

The Court: (applauds)

Arthur: (complains in a whisper) Father!

Uther: (ignores him)

Gaius: (tries to approach, but the number of people standing up and approaching the King and the young men is such that it is impossible for him to even object from his position)

Gwen: (claps with a pitying smile on her face, knowing what awaits Merlin at his new job)

Arthur and Merlin: (look away from each other, completely irritated)

Time skip. In Merlin's room. The baby seems not to have woken up, but everything that is close to her levitates. Merlin, completely exhausted, tries to put everything back in its place, but again some things float or start to roll.

Gaius: (knocks on the door and enters) You seem to be a hero.

Merlin: With a shitty reward. (gives up on putting the things back to place and sighs) Can I resign?

Gaius: No. Once Uther has something in mind it's impossible for anyone to oppose him. His word is law, remember?

Merlin: But... We had not planned for me to stay.

Gaius: And now, it seems you'll be here for an unlimited time. And even if I find a camp right now, it's unlikely I'll be able to get you and the baby accepted. I wouldn't worry too much though. It's a relatively easy job to do. And a short term one too.

Merlin: What do you mean?

Gaius: Servants who are dedicated to the prince's care don't usually last very long. He'll probably sack you soon. All you have to do is avoid getting into trouble with the prince and serve him-

Merlin: (worried) Oh no! I can't do that!

Gaius: Be with the prince? It's just following him around all day… (realises) oh, the baby.

Merlin: (sighs) I can't leave her alone, but I can't have her with me all the time either. Or can I?

Gaius: It's been a long time since anyone had a baby in the castle. And almost all the children are already teenagers of the servants or maids. Don't worry, I'll help you with her. (hands Merlin a book wrapped in a cloth) This book was given to me when I was your age, but I have a feeling it will be of more use to you than it was to me.

Merlin: (opens it and looks inside) This is a book of magic! I thought the king had destroyed everything related to magic.

Gaius: He kept a dragon alive, a magic book that pretends to be an herbalist's book won't kill anyone. Not if you are careful that is. Keep it hidden and then take it with you when you go with the baby to the druid camp.

Merlin: (smiles) Thank you, Gaius. I will study every word.

Guard: (knocks from outside, pretending not to notice the baby bottles in the room) Merlin, Prince Arthur needs you immediately.

Gaius: Well, you'd better find out what he wants.

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

...

So Arthur and Merlin had an even rockier start this time. How do you think this will affect their relationship?

Tagging @chaosofbelievers , @blackgigglypuff , @stressed-but-chill , @nocheaseforyougoodsir , @thedragonlies , @evedaser , @lolazoel , @sammythetoaster , @caraspud , @g00pygunkyguy , @bertoliosis35-blog , @purpuraffe , @lordemryspendragon , @herstarlight , @justaz , @myalchemicalgnomace , @haunted-glassesgurl , @exmintha , @dumbdemjin , @a-line-drawn , @itsjustmeandmyanxiety , @beebsnas , @rem-the-moth , @tmarauder101

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #merthur #merlin prompt #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merthur prompt #merthur fic #Merlin arrives with a baby in Camelot AU

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scribesynnox · 2 days ago

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Sike! I seperated my first post into a second one anyways. More apocalyptic ponyo jazz and prowl thoughts because the first post was getting long. And I want to see people's thoughts on them, but that'll be hard to do if there's too much going on in just one post.

@keferon Sorry for the double post but hey, this is on you. You are just so inspirational, and your ideas are just so fun to play with.

Man, one my favorite parts about captive Jazz and him knowing human language is that Jazz knows from the get go that humans are sentient and sapient. Everyone else is playing "oh wow, I've befriended a very clever animal!" and the only mer who knows humans are in fact not a pet, is stuck with ANOTHER mer and can't even speak fluent mer yet.

It's going to be so funny when Jazz finally learns enough mer to tell Prowl about humans and Prowl is like "THEY'RE SENTIENT?!"

Jazz: man, did you really think I was held captive for so long by a bunch of NON sentient animals? Because if you did, I'm about to be very offended. Prowl: You were land locked, I was hardly going to think you were unskilled or dumb. Any normal and sane mer wouldn't have been able to escape. Jazz: I feel like there was an insult hidden in there. Prowl: No, I'm shocked because if they're sentient, then they HAD to know what they were doing was wrong! Jazz: don't blame them too much. They didn't keep me trapped out of malice, they thought I'd die if they let me go. And to be fair, without you, that definitely would have happened. Prowl: That doesn't make your treatment okay! Jazz: I said don't blame them TOO much, I didn't say don't blame them at ALL.

Jazz swimming around in the ruins of the drowned city and going up to read a city map that's been protected behind some glass. Prowl has no idea why Jazz is staring so intently at the human drawings, and impatiently tries to get Jazz to move along. Jazz frowns at him and waves him away, stiltedly replying back, "Listening now. Gathering information. Hold." What is Jazz learning from the drawings? Do they actually mean anything?

Jazz memorizing the maps and then using the street signs to navigate their way around. Prowl being baffled at how Jazz seems to know where to go despite having clearly never been outside before.

It takes so long before Jazz can convince Prowl that "see those weird squiggles? That's human writing" Prowl: no those are territory marks that humans make. Jazz: hey, who's the one that grew up around humans. I'm telling you, it's writing. Prowl: but it's only one color! Jazz: humans don't use color as a tone indicator, they have different symbols for that. Also, fuck you guys for using colors as a second secret language, why is your writing so complicated? And I thought Chinese was hard.

Hey speaking of not knowing things about his own god damn culture, WOW how must Jazz feel about getting to go back home, except when he finally escapes, there's a lot more rubble and deadly mutant sharks than he expected.

Except when he escapes and gets to the open sea, he STILL feels like he's inside a tank. An outsider looking from behind a glass wall as everyone else gawks at him.

he is a stranger to his own culture and it hurts more than he expected it to, to come back to what should have been his home, only to find that there is no magical instant sense of belonging. It is just as alien to him as the tank had first been all those years ago.

He expected it but it still hurts more than he thought it would.

But at least there IS a warm welcome, courtesy of Prowl warbling a "Welcome back" at him. It's a start.

There is just.. SO MUCH sea!! Jazz can swim forward and swim and swim and SWIM and he can swish his tail as much as he wants, and he'll never hit a wall. And there's more than just Forward, there's also up and down and left and right and just!!! EVERYWHERE!! There is so much sea EVERYWHERE!! He could swim a HUNDRED laps just going straight forward and still never run out of room!

there is almost.. TOO much sea, honestly. Jazz's whole world consisted of tanks that barely had enough room to swim in, and now there is a dizzying amount of room to swim in.

This whole experience has just been absolutely breathtaking but if Jazz is being honest, he's not sure if it's from awe or from fear.

haha, imagine if this is when Jazz finds out he has a fear of The Vast? Oof, rip.

And like, Jazz had been in a cell, trapped for years, yes, but he still grew up there. I bet Jazz misses things from the human world.

He named himself after jazz music, Jazz isn't going to want to give up on human things.

Does Jazz sometimes miss the processed food that had been given to him? Because I KNOW we all got that one garbage food that doesn't taste good but it's what you grew up eating so you love it anyways, so does Jazz have his childhood garbage food in processed fish food? Does Jazz dig up and find those buckets of fish food and just start chowing down and Prowl is just staring at him in disgust and judgement? Lots of judgement. Jazz is offended.

Oh! And what about the effects of being raised by humans! Like, yes, the ignorance about his own culture and own world and the lack of social knowledge and his atrophied tail and all that. But like. what about night vision?

Jazz having shit night vision because he grew up surrounded by humans, and humans are always leaving SOMETHING bright on. He's never experienced true darkness before, and the first time he sees the world without light pollution, he's scared shitless because FUCK, IT'S PITCH BLACK, HOW DO YOU SEE ANYTHING, HOW CAN YOU KNOW WHERE DANGER IS!

Can I just say, I absolutely adore the fact that Jazz is as terrified of the ocean as humans are because he only knows of the ocean through their eyes. It provides an EXCELLENT way to project our own fears of the ocean onto a mer. I love it.

you know, I'm really glad that Jazz is the captive one and Prowl is the "wild" one in here. Not just because it's interesting, since it's so easy to immediately go "Oh yeah, Prowl would be the captive one and that's why he's so analytical and aloof", but also because this way makes more SENSE.

Prowl as the "wild" mer, the free mer, was able to grow up in a society. He went to school and got a degree and shit. Ya man has gone to college.

Meanwhile Jazz doesn't get taught SHIT because everyone thought he was a dumb animal. Clever, sure, for an animal, but still just a regular non sentient animal. So Jazz had to learn tricks and how to read people and all that jazz (haha, get it?), learn how to get around and do things on his own.

Which seems fitting for these two. SO yeah, I like their current set up, it's great.

#my posts #my writings #writing ideas #transformers stuff #apocalyptic ponyo #tf jazz #tf prowl #mer au #worldbuilding #shorter than the first part but hey i'm eepy #i'm not gonna bother keeping the split even #enjoy bonus content

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moonzzip · 3 days ago

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my song for you | prologue

a/n — I decided to make this mini-series in celebration of g-d's new album (and due to the lack of new stories these days), I've been busy and that's why I haven't been releasing any more stories, but I hope you like this one, I'll release the next chapter soon!

summary: your passion for music has always been something that kept you grounded, but soon you found yourself lost. your friend gets you into trouble, and you wonder if your wounds will ever heal.

pairing: jiyong x pianist!gn!reader

!warnings: mention of toxic family, bruises, blood, fainting

lowercase letters, w.c: 2,1k

nothing. nothing comes to your mind, nothing.

you play, play, and play the keys, but nothing forms.

the sound is empty, the melody is empty, the notes are empty, everything, absolutely everything is empty.

none of the forms give you feeling, never satisfied with what you're doing.

everything is bad, everything sounds bad, you don't feel like you're doing it right, nothing seems right.

your hands tremble, your fists want to clench, false notes, off-key sounds, your finger clicked the wrong key, your foot stepped wrong, you missed by a millisecond, you played two at the same time, you played none.

and you stop.

your breath is tired, frustrated, disgusted, agonized. your soul feels broken and empty, lonely.

that song that once made you happy no longer fills you.

you've been playing the piano for as long as you can remember. your family is a great pianist family, so you always had this obligation to know how to play. everyone in the family was considered a prodigy.

but not you.

you were slower compared to your cousins, took longer to understand compared to your aunts when they were children, didn't have the motor coordination of your mother or the speed of your father.

you were incomplete.

the scars on the top of your hand say it all, every little scratch, purple mark, dripping blood, silenced scream, cry, and sweat.

even so, you never felt anger toward them, your family.

much less hatred for the piano.

it was an object, it wasn’t its fault.

it wasn’t the piano that made your blood run, it wasn’t the piano that made your tears fall.

you used the piano as an escape, despite it having brought you misery.

anger rises to your head, your fists finally clench completely and begin to strike the instrument fiercely, horrible sounds coming out due to the aggression on the black and white keys, your screams scratch your throat, your body sore and tired, your mind full, yet empty at the same time, too messy, your already dried tears no longer fall.

you continue the attack for a while, until exhaustion almost wins.

you bite your lips so hard they bleed, your head tilts back, the blood running down your lips, your vision blurs, and your body falls back, staring at the ceiling as you let out a sigh, and everything goes dark.

your feet walk along the crowded sidewalk, your hands in furry, warm gloves, looking at your feet but still seeing ahead to avoid bumping into someone.

you stop at the edge of the sidewalk, now looking up, the cars passing at high speed, countless people on the other side and beside you. you sigh, hiding your face in your warm scarf, your eyes catching the large sign meters away from you: ‘galaxy corporation,’ and you sigh again.

what was your friend thinking? he called you out of nowhere, saying he needed you to come to the company where he works because it was urgent. what the hell could be so urgent that he needed your help? nothing comes to mind. your day had been going so well, you had slept reasonably well, and it was cold enough to stay under the blankets for as long as you wanted. just thinking about it makes you yawn, stretching your back, hearing a small crack, and adjusting your clothes, brushing off invisible dust.

well, here goes nothing.

the door opens automatically, the warm air hitting your face. you breathe in satisfaction and step inside—it’s well-lit and spacious—the door closes behind you. you take off your scarf and store it in your bag. there aren't many people, a small group and some scattered around, but nothing beyond that.

you wonder if your friend is waiting for you down here. you look around but decide to go to the reception.

“ah... excuse me?” the receptionist looks up and gives you a small but still gentle smile.

“hello! how can I help you?”

you try to return the smile, but it feels awkward, so you continue, “mr. kim jonghoon called me and asked me to come. could you check if he’s here?”

you could just call him, but this isn’t the first time jonghoon has called you out of nowhere saying he has something important to say, only to disappear when you try to call back. you’re not in the mood to waste your phone credits on him.

“ah! kim jonghoon-ssi? just a moment.”

you watch her pick up the fancy black phone and dial some numbers. it rings, and jonghoon answers almost instantly.

that bastard. he knew you wouldn’t come if he kept answering and responding to your questions. this man is getting too clever for your liking. you roll your eyes internally.

the receptionist is smiling like an idiot on the phone. jonghoon has a habit of flirting with people, but he could do that another time.

the sound of the phone being placed back on the receiver pulls you from your thoughts.

“he is in the building, yes. he’ll be here soon, please wait patiently.”

it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.

you look around and see an empty armchair nearby. it looks comfortable, so you sit down. you wonder if he’ll take long, then pull out your phone, looking for something to do.

ah... you should have downloaded some games.

would it be rude to put on your headphones? you think about it but take them out anyway, connecting them via bluetooth. you scroll through your spotify, maybe something by bigbang? lots of options, your finger hovers over a few, clicks one, skips, until you find one.

‘my heaven’ appears on your screen. ah... this song is so good. you remember watching the m/v when you were younger. you used to follow the group more closely. they were your inspiration to play that... thing. after a while, you just gave up on music altogether.

you sigh, looking at your hands, the scars hidden beneath the gloves, running from your elbows to your fingertips.

hours and hours, endlessly playing that thing, until your nails broke and your fingers formed calluses, or until you passed out. most times, that’s how it went.that leather whip was used on your delicate little hands, mercilessly, without pause.

you had always been a well-behaved child, never complained, never gave a reason for such methods to be used, but apparently, your difficulty in learning was reason enough.

always put down, always compared to everyone in your family—

"your aunt learned this in three days."

"your sister wouldn’t make a mistake like that."

"you never get this right on the first try. useless."

things like that.jonghoon only knows the surface. you never had the courage to give him many details, and you don’t plan to.

he understands. he never crosses that line, and that’s it.

you played so much, so much, participated in so many projects nonstop, took courses, tests, competitions, but never received a 'congratulations', never an applause. it was as if you were performing for no one.

but you never complained. as long as you liked playing, nothing could affect you.

until it did.

your thoughts are once again interrupted by a light kick to your shoe. it’s jonghoon.

(internally, you thank him for pulling you out of those thoughts.)

“hey, ___!”, he greets you excitedly.you look at him blankly before putting him in a headlock, muttering angrily,

“you bastard. you call me in the middle of the night, say it’s important, then ignore me? you know I have no patience for this, and you call me at 3 AM?? I’m going to kill you, kim jonghoon.”

he knows you’re really mad when you say his full name.

“a-ah, _-__, I can’t talk—”

you tighten your grip.

“your silence is starting to please me, jonghoon. you in a coffin would be even better.”

he taps your arm, and you loosen slightly.

“i-if you let me g-go, I c-can talk.”

you click your tongue and release him, crossing your arms.

“speak. before I change my mind and leave.”

he knows you’re not joking, so he hurries.

“so... I kind of... signed you up for a temporary job... playing piano for an artist’s production here.”

kim jonghoon was a dead man that day.

...or so you wish.

but here you were, sitting at a table with your friend in front of you. he bought you lunch, so you forgave him—temporarily. two days, you told him.

"jonghoon, you know i haven't played in three years. what the hell were you thinking!?" your voice rose slightly, laced with disappointment, and you didn’t hide it.

he lowered his head a bit, knowing what he did wasn’t right. "sorry, ___… i just wanted to help. seeing you in the same situation as three years ago makes me anxious. i hate seeing you like that at home, and—"

letting out a frustrated sigh, you ran your hands through your hair, elbows resting on the table. "this is something i'm working on, jonghoon. i know you want to help, but—" you stared at the table, eyes slowly filling with tears.

"it’s not something that heals just like that... i hate the piano. i hate my music. i hate my family. and i hate hating these things."

the man in front of you stood up and walked over, gently running his fingers through your hair. "look… i know what i did was wrong, but ___…"

he hesitated, and you looked up at him. "i know you don’t actually hate the piano. i know you don’t truly hate your music. it’s what lifted you out of where you were, ___. don’t say that, please."

you looked at him, anger flashing in your eyes. "kim jonghoon, don’t talk about things you don’t understand."

you stood from your chair, grabbing your things. "sometimes, you're just like them. you try to dictate how i feel. you don’t know anything. you shouldn’t have done this, and you know it."

you walked toward the door, ready to leave. "i’m not completely mad. i get that you want to help, but… just leave me alone. for a while."

just before you reached for the handle, the large door swung open. you took a few steps back as a man entered.

his colorful hair, cap with a scarf tied over it, yellow-tinted glasses, vibrant clothes, and perfectly painted nails made him stand out. he brought color into the dull, lifeless room—like a stylish rainbow.

jonghoon perked up, walking over to the man.

"jiyong-ssi! hey, how are you!?" he greeted the man enthusiastically, who smiled at him and bowed at a precise 90-degree angle.

"jonghoon-ssi, hello. i'm doing well. and you?" his voice was calm and deep, slightly raspy but steady. the more energetic man simply smiled and nodded in agreement.

you stood with your hands in your pockets, feeling a little out of place, glancing around.

the man with colorful hair noticed you in the room and fidgeted with his hands slightly but still greeted you. "you must be ___-ssi, right?"

you nodded with a small ‘yes’ and bowed at 90 degrees as well, polite. the man in front of you did the same. "i'm kwon jiyong. nice to meet you. i heard you’ve been playing piano for years—i’m interested in your work."

you stared at him for a few seconds, but before you could respond, jonghoon cut in. "ahh, ___ is definitely interested, jiyong-ssi! i told them about the job, and they rushed right over—you can trust me on this."

giving your friend a deadly glare, he continued undeterred. "the absolute best pianist in the world is standing right in front of you! i’ve never seen anyone like them—pure dedication! the music that comes from ___'s fingers takes me to heaven, seriously!"

you rolled your eyes at jonghoon’s exaggerated praises but stayed silent. he wasn’t going to give up on making you play again. you didn’t know how to feel about it—grateful or incredibly frustrated.

the more energetic man pulled you and jiyong by the arms, making you both sit at the table as he started talking.

"___, jiyong-ssi recently started producing his third solo album, something highly anticipated by his fans, of course. it’s not every day that g-dragon releases an album, and—"

ah.that’s why kwon jiyong seemed familiar to you.

the man sitting beside you was g-dragon.

you put your elbows on the table and buried your head in your hands.

what the hell had you gotten yourself into?

a/n – so, I wrote this while listening to gd’s ‘drama’, seriously, what a wonderful album, where I live it came out at 2 in the morning, but I woke up to listen to it, I don’t regret it one bit, thank you for the wonderful album gd, I have no complaints (and never have). thanks for reading! I’ll release part one soon, I think it will have at most 3 parts (not counting the prologue), but I can’t guarantee anything. feel free to correct any mistakes!

#g dragon #bigbang gdragon #bigbang x reader #gdragon x reader #jiyong x reader #kpop #gn!reader #kwon jiyong #G dragon x reader

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trippinsorrows · 3 days ago

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soooooo

if you haven't read the latest chapter of ltye, do not read beyond this! you will spoil major shit for yourself, and no one deserves that, so just keep scrolling, babes. 😭

now, that we're all here and caught up, i have something i wanna share with ya'll that i've been keeping to myself for a minute now, because i couldn't say anything without ruining book 1 for ya'll.

i'm just gonna get right to it.

dreamland is not an au.

it's canon.

it's book 3 of the ltye series.

i did not intend for it to become book 3. i truly, initially intended for it to just be another au. but, the more we discussed and talked about it, the more i thought about the ending i always envisioned for roso. i always knew i would give them a happy ending and pictured them having three kids. but, the idea of them having a huge family is just so deeply aligned with that happy ending. it just makes most sense to me to give them this big, happy family. they just deserve it, ya know? 🥺🥺🥺

i always tried to write dreamland focused on just the kids and roso, just to avoid making anyone think it was an indication of ltye. that hasn't changed. jimmy gets brought up because he's asked about a lot, but jey's absence or jimmy's mention, anyone else not being mentioned, etc is not intended to show how things play out. i prob won't confirm or deny that until we get into book 2.

i already have to go back and remodel the the masterlist, because we have to add in samaria, leya's pregnancy, etc. i will try my best to organize that in a way that makes sense. and, i'm super sorry for going along with the "it's an au," but i had to, because it would have spoiled/ruined book 1 😭😭😭

currently, i have no plans to make dreamland a chapter by chapter story like ltye or 'standing by the ocean.' it'll continue to be just a bunch of shorts and oneshots that show the stories of the kids, focusing on when they're toddlers and up (hence why i made that post asking about what you guys would like to see).

hope this makes sense and ya'll don't hate me for lying. 😭💙

#arispeaks #ltye things #dreamland things

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coyotelip · 3 days ago

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jegulily waiting for a child microfic part 2! careful || part 1 || @taylorswiftmicrofic || wc: 812

“It's so small. Smaller than I expected,” James says in a whisper as he wraps his arms around Lily's five-months-pregnant bump.

“Can you grow a bigger one?” Lily replies with a laugh as she continues to carefully run the razor along James' jaw, shaving away the remnants of his morning stubble.

Five minutes ago, James was doing it on his own, looking at himself in the mirror with a frown. There was blood just under his lower lip where he hadn't been so careful with the razor. So when Lily walked into their bathroom in the morning, she couldn't ignore her husband's embarrassing suffering and set about helping him.

James now has his back to the mirror, leaning slightly so that she can work with his face at her height. His hands are on her round belly, stroking her bare skin, running his fingertips along the white stretch marks on her skin. Lily's hands gently circle his face and apply gentle pressure, shaving away the stubble along with the shaving foam that cools his skin.

“Oh, I wish I could,” James says, returning to the conversation, only half jokingly. That way he would be able to stay at home all the time as he wanted. James doesn't say it, but Lily's eyes meet his and flicker, noticing the sadness in her husband's gaze.

“I've been thinking about something…” she begins cautiously. James tilts his head slightly, but doesn't stop her from continuing to manipulate the razor. “You can raise your price list, right?”

“Why?” he asks, a little puzzled. James has been working as a massage therapist for eight years now and rents an office in the city center. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't proud of his success - the best athletes and several celebrities in their city use his services, and some even invite him to their homes to give them private sessions. And of course, James charges a lot of money for this level of skills and experience.

“Oh, you know, your regular clients can afford it. I'm sure they'll stay with you even if the price doubles,” Lily picks up a damp towel to wipe James' face of the remaining shaving foam. Her voice trails off as she adds, “And you'll be able to afford to spend more time at home, right?”

Her green eyes look at James with hope. She knows how much James has been putting on himself these past few months. Of course she does. He doesn't even have to voice those thoughts and feelings, Lily and Regulus read his every thought in those moments when James comes home from work late at night and finds them on the couch wrapped in a blanket and covered in brownie crumbs. When he leaves for work early in the morning, sometimes while both of his partners are still in bed. When Regulus talks enthusiastically about something that happened during the day and about new information he found on the Internet about newborns.

James never says what is bothering him because of his particular and biggest fear. That they will stop sharing with him everything that happens in his absence so as not to hurt his feelings.

There are days when James wishes his job was as flexible as Regulus' and he could just work from home. Although their plans for the big house already include the idea of a separate office space for James for clients who are willing to travel out of town to visit him.

Putting down the towel, Lily cradles James' face in both hands, and he rubs lightly against her palms like a cat hungry for touch. The man has to cover his eyes to keep the tears from falling because of the flood of thoughts that has overwhelmed him. It seems that he is the one who has experienced all the emotionality that is typical during pregnancy.

All this time, James' hands remained on Lily's rounded pregnant bump - these days he tried to maintain physical contact with his wife whenever possible. Even when his profession required him to be skillful with touching other people, he had never been so careful and caring with anyone but his partners.

Lily gives him this time to think and gently strokes his cheeks. And James begins, “I think…” when something happens.

A light push coming from somewhere inside the woman's belly. A very light impact wave that James feels under his palm and makes two pairs of eyes look down.

James doesn't remove his hands, but instead spreads both palms to cover the entire surface of Lily's belly. And he feels it again - a kick. A small hand or foot that responds to the sound of his voice, to the warmth of his hands, and wants to say hello.

This time, James doesn't close his eyes, but lets the tears roll down his cheeks.

#marauders #james potter #lily evans #regulus black #jegulus #jily #jegulily #starchaser #sunseeker #regulily #stargazer #married jegulily #harry potter #writers on tumblr

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whatonearthisgoingon · 15 hours ago

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Demon Giyuu AU

I've been obsessing over Demon Giyuu and SaneGiyuu, so have a little rant/fic about the idea.

There is also some past SabiGiyuu mentioned, but it's minor. Word Count: 2,151

Okay, so Giyuu is on a standard mission against a Lowermoon or minorly powerful but not ranked demon, when out of nowhere someone in the Upper 3 comes along as a reinforcement for the first demon.

Giyuu tries his absolute hardest to kill the demons, to the point where he unlocks the mark. In the end, with the combination of the Uppermoon and lower ranked demon, Giyuu eventually looses, but he's not dead yet, barely conscious and struggling to move. The Upper demon he's against, is pretty impressed with the fight Giyuu gave, and gives him blood, Giyuu too weak to fight back against it. The two demons leave, not waiting to see if Giyuu survives.

Giyuu, feeling the changes, calls Kanzaburo to send a message to the Master and the Hashiras, before eventually passing out from exhaustion as the transformation starts.

Eventually the Hashiras find Demon Giyuu where he's relatively calm for a recently turned demon. He found a stream nearby and is calmly sitting in the water. He found out pretty early that he can control the water, so he's making it form into a multitude of pretty shapes. The Hashiras approach with caution, but their guard is soon dropped as Giyuu brightly talks to them, stating how he's happy they found him.

The only Hashiras who aren't convinced are Sanemi and Obanai. So what does Sanemi do? He walks up to Giyuu, and slashes his own arm open, the Marechi blood dripping down. Sanemi: "You're still so human, right? So surely this has no effect on you, huh? Go on, you know you want it!"

Giyuu is trying his hardest to resist, backing away as Sanemi merely gets closer, taunting him with the blood. Giyuu's eyes are transfixed on the wound, and his breath is becoming more labored as he tries to resist the demonic urges. Eventually, he's able to turn away from Sanemi, refusing the blood; that's enough to convince the other Hashiras of Giyuu's trustworthiness, just as it worked for Nezuko.

As the night is still high, they bring Giyuu back to the Water Estate, where the Master is waiting. They have a long discussion over Giyuu's new condition; how he can't be in the sun, the Blood Demon Art, how missions with non-hashiras should be avoided, a supplementary beef and pork diet to hopefully substitute any cravings for human flesh, etc. After the big topics are discussed, the biggest question arises; who will stay with Giyuu, and make sure he doesn't go crazy and hurt anyone for the next few weeks or months, as he has only recently transformed? Who is strong enough to keep him in check? All eyes turn to Sanemi.

Sanemi: "Why is everyone looking at me?" Obanai: "As much as I hate to admit it, that prick is stronger than all of us, minus you and Gyomei. But I think we can all agree that Gyomei won't be the best at watching a demon." Sanemi: "I'm not watching over the demon fuck- I hate him! There's no way that I'll be taking care of him-!"

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

Giyuu watches as the door shuts when the last Hashira leaves, leaving him and a fuming Sanemi in a room alone, after the Master commanded Sanemi to stay with Giyuu. It's quiet for a minute, when Giyuu finally speaks.

Giyuu: "Do you have a certain type of tea you like? I can make a pot-" Sanemi: "Shut the fuck up, this is all your fault." Giyuu: " ...... I'll just make myself one then.." He says as he stands up and walks out.

Sanemi eventually joins Giyuu, because he has nothing else to do, and he's stuck with the damn idiot, so why not have some tea while he's at it. The two sit in silence, drinking tea, until Giyuu speaks.

Giyuu: "I don't have much set up in my estate, so we can live together in yours." Sanemi: "Excuse me?" Giyuu: "Well the Master said we had to stay together, so you can watch me- so I presume we'll be staying in the same estate?" Sanemi: Loudly sighs. "Whatever you dumb shit, sure. My estate or whatever. Just don't make a mess, you hear me?" Giyuu: "Of course."

Giyuu goes quiet again, just drinking his tea, but he has a small smile. He doesn't know how to explain it, or why he's feeling it, but he's really happy that he gets to hang out with Sanemi now.

When tea is over, they pack up some of Giyuu's clothes, and they go to Sanemi's Estate before the sun rises. While Giyuu is putting his stuff in the guest bedroom, Sanemi goes around his Estate, making sure all the windows are shut and covered with curtains. There's no way he'd let Giyuu see him doing something nice or caring for him like that, so he rushes to get it all done before Giyuu is done unpacking.

Later Sanemi goes to bed, as does Giyuu, as they had been up all night dealing with demon nonsense. The next night, they go on their first mission together.

As they are now eating meals together, going on missions together, and living together, the two start growing closer together. The animosity and tension is still there, but it has become to change. Rather hating Giyuu's whole dumb face, Sanemi specifically hates that dumb, stupid, disgustingly pretty smile. Giyuu's opinion on Sanemi's anger has shifted from one of irritation to a minor annoyance with a small hint of fondness to it; it's what makes Sanemi, Sanemi.

One night, Giyuu is calmly sitting in his room, reading something, when he hears a yell and a crash from Sanemi's room. He gets up and goes to Sanemi's room, finding him freshly woken from a nightmare.

Rather asking questions, Giyuu just sits down, gently taking the shaking Sanemi's hand. He's quiet, and just sits there, being a comforting presence as Sanemi's racing heart rate slowly lowers. Sanemi squeezes and relaxes his hold on Giyuu's hand many times, Giyuu's presence grounding him.

After a few minutes, Sanemi does something surprising. He hugs Giyuu. Giyuu is shocked at first, but doesn't fight against it, hugging Sanemi. They sit like that for a few minutes, until Sanemi mumbles a quiet "Thank you."

That night, Giyuu lays back down with Sanemi, holding him in that hug, his hands wrapped around Sanemi's waist. The two fall asleep together as the sun rises, and they are still holding each other when they awake in the evening.

They have a meal together, acting like nothing happened, then go on the night's mission. When they return they do their usual routine of a meal, getting ready for bed, etc. But this night, Giyuu follows Sanemi to his room for sleep. Sanemi, although confused at first, doesn't argue, letting Giyuu lay down with him. He would never admit it, but last night was the best he'd slept in years.

This routine continues, neither man willing to bring up the developing intimate relationship between them. It's easier to stay quiet and let it happen. But over the next month, they grow even closer. Hugging and hand holding around the house is becoming common. They pick food off each other's plates. They cook their meals together in the kitchen, or over a fire on missions. They spar together at night when they don't have a mission.

A few times when the two are talking and are close together, there is a want for more, when the two's faces are only a foot or so apart. Sometimes when they hug, the hands trail a little lower than they're supposed to.

Sanemi is pissed at these feelings. Giyuu is a man- and he's not even a human man. He's a demon. A relationship like that would be an abomination on two levels. They'd be executed for this shit, Giyuu much more instantly than Sanemi would. Sure, they could run, but neither of them want that, do they?

Giyuu on the other hand, is less mad that he likes a man, but that that man is Sanemi. Because he knows why its Sanemi specifically. Sanemi... Sabito... The aggressive personality, the purple eyes with so much emotion behind them, the scars formed in battle from strength and courage. He fell for the same person all over again. And just like all of the other people Giyuu loved, Giyuu is scared that something drastic will happen to Sanemi.

The two continue their "friendship," while both holding these feelings inside of them, refusing to speak to each other, too scared of how the other will feel, and how the world will react.

Some of the Hashiras started noticing the shift in the two's relationship. Iguro notices that Sanemi isn't irritated by the mere thought of Giyuu anymore. Shinobu notices that Giyuu's fascination over Sanemi has only increased into a shared friendship; she is very happy for Giyuu. Mitsuri is happy that there is less tension in Hashira meetings now, because they are getting along.

The only Hashira who really notices that the two men long for more, is Tengen. And he's pretty sure he is more accepting of that idea, than the two men infront of him are.

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

Ubuyashiki: "I trust Giyuu to be by himself now. He has been a demon for about 5 months now, and has proven that he is safe to be around, and safe to be on missions by himself." Looking at Sanemi and Giyuu "Sanemi does not need to watch over Giyuu constantly anymore." He pauses then smiles. "If the two of you.. wish to separate, Giyuu can return to his own estate."

Ubuyashiki says that with a certain tone, and a soft smile on his face, suggesting that he knows the two will most likely not want to separate. He makes it clear that this is an option, not a requirement. He dismisses the meeting, and Sanemi and Giyuu return to the Wind Estate.

Sanemi: "So? Are you staying or going?" Giyuu: "Well.. I mean, all my belongings are here anyway.." Sanemi: Nods a little "Yeah, they are.. but.. you want to stay here still?" Giyuu: "Do you want me to leave?" He says with a slightly sad tone Sanemi: "No!" Realizes he was way too quick and loud with his answer. "I mean, you make my life easier, help with cooking and cleaning shit.." Giyuu: Smiles a little. "Well, I'll go get started.. I'll make sure there's some ohagi for dessert.." Sanemi: "Yeah whatever, I'm getting a shower.." He walks off, not letting Giyuu see the smile on his face, now knowing that Giyuu wants to stay. After living together, fully on their own choice, for a few weeks, Giyuu decides that it's finally time to talk about what the two of them are. On a night without a mission, Giyuu takes Sanemi outside to the backyard of the Wind Estate, at around 11:50 pm. They're sitting quietly looking at the scenery under a full moon, when Giyuu speaks up.

Giyuu: "Sanemi, what are we?" Sanemi: Confused. "What do you mean?" Giyuu: "Well.. we've been living together for a few months. We go on almost every mission together. We eat meals together. We hug and hold hands. We sleep in the same bed. Is it wrong of me to assume there is something more than friendship between us? We are acting like a couple." Sanemi: He freezes up for a minute, not responding. His first instinct is to tell Giyuu off, 'How dare you think of me as a fag.' 'What on earth are you talking about.' But he doesn't. Instead he thinks about his words, before responding. "What do you think of our relationship? How would you react if a name was put on it?" Giyuu: He's quiet while he considers, then sighs. "I.. I wouldn't mind the title.. But if you do mind the title, then I think we should try to distance ourselves into a normal platonic relationship, because that is not where we are at right now." Sanemi: He considers Giyuu's words, then softly whispers. "I wouldn't mind the title.. saying we're.. together" Giyuu: He finally looks at Sanemi, then takes Sanemi's hand in his own. "Well, can I say 'I love you' then, Sanemi?" Sanemi: Laughs a little as he turns red in the cheeks. "Maybe give it a day, but sure.." He smiles, still avoiding eye contact with Giyuu; if he met his gaze, he would probably explode. Giyuu: "Alright.." He stands up, letting go of Sanemi's hand as he does, then turns to the door. "I'll be in bed. Take as long as you need." Looks inside and sees as the clock strikes as midnight. "And, I love you.." He says as he walks inside. Sanemi: Laughs "You're a fucking dick, Tomioka!" He smiles fondly at Giyuu's antics, before quietly whispering once Giyuu leaves. "I love you too.."

#sanemi x giyuu #giyuu x sanemi #sanegiyuu #giyuusane #sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #giyuu tomioka #tomioka giyuu #minor sabigiyuu #sabigiyuu #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #alternate universe #demon giyuu au #fanfiction

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billthedrake · 2 days ago

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LINEAGE (PART SIX)

We hit a rough patch. I guess it happens in every marriage. Braden and I made sure not to fight in front of the boys, but we were arguing more. Some of the usual stuff, about me being a workaholic and not doing enough parenting duties for our youngest, Evan and Keith. It was like me and my eldest son's earlier dynamic was coming back in a different way.

But behind it all was Brade still wasn't pregnant. He and I had decided to have a fourth son, and it just wasn't taking. We'd come back from our belated honeymoon fucking like bunnies, but after a year, the sexual intensity had faded. We still had sex once a week, but maybe that wasn't enough.

I'd talked to the younger Dr. Fiedler about it, and Todd said that fertility starts to decline in a man's mid-30s. He said he could write a script for some fertility pills, if Braden and I wanted to try them. But I figured I'd hold off on that. I didn't want Braden to feel I was putting pressure on him to conceive. For all we knew, my swimmers weren't doing the job.

Todd Fiedler was the one man who I could unload my problems to and I knew he'd keep them private. I suspect one part of the marital issues was that Braden didn't have a close confidante when it came to incest marriage. And my husband was starting to resent the Saturday tee times with my golf buddy.

Still, I wasn't going to give them up. Junior had taken to golfing, in a big way, and at 14 was pretty damn good. It helped that the Fiedlers had a son Junior's age, Sam, so we became a regular foursome.

"He's gonna beat you today, Bill," Todd said with a grin as he slid his club into the bag. The boys were walking ahead of us.

"Seems that way," I said. "Guess my game is off."

Todd patted my shoulder. He could be flirty with me, in an understated way though Brade and I never fooled around with the Fiedlers like with did with the Connors men. "Maybe. But your son's a natural." He got a playful look in his eye. "Took Adam a lot longer to beat me." Adam is the oldest Fiedler son, just then starting college. "But I'll tell ya, the sex was fuckin incredible that day."

Todd's eyes fixed on me as he dropped that bombshell.

"You mean...?" I asked.

He nodded. "I figure I can tell you and Braden. But yeah, that's developed and it's pretty incredible."

I was trying my best not to get hard in my golf shorts, but it was probably going to be a losing battle. "Jesus, Todd... we're gonna have to talk more about this."

He smiled. "You got it. Dad and I still have to pinch ourselves that it's happening." I sort of resented we didn't have the time or full privacy for him to share the full story.

We walked along. "I've been meaning to bring this up, Bill... but a friend of mine is doing a study of incest families... it's all confidential... I told him I'd see if you were interested in being part of it, too."

"What kind of study?" I asked. From anyone else the request would have seemed far-fetched but I trusted the Fiedlers.

"Psychology, mostly interviews with me, Dad, and our sons. I'll just say Mark is, um, sympathetic to our kind of families."

I chuckled. "Is that right? It's funny how I spent years thinking Brade and I were the only ones, and gradually we find more sympathetic family men."

"Besides the Connors?" Todd asked.

I had never told him about the Newcombs, the father and son we'd met in the Caribbean. I'd half forgotten about them myself. Only..

"Braden and I met these guys on our honeymoon. We drew them out of their shell a bit.""

"Yeah?" Todd's eyes gleamed. He knew Braden and I were open to playing with the Connors and suspected that was the case here.

I didn't spell it out though. "They kind of freaked out on us, but I just got a LinkedIn message from the dad."

Todd was listening with rapt attention.

"It was all coded, but basically he was thanking me," I continued.

"Seems like we both have some stuff to talk about," Fiedler said. We were now catching up to the where the boys were already setting up their tees on the next hole.

Sam hit a good shot, but Junior's was the incredible drive right down the fairway. Yep, my son was gonna beat me that day, for sure.

***

The next couple of weeks were busy. That's why the news came out of the blue for me.

"Dad... can you come in here?" I heard from the master bathroom one morning. It was a weekend, and I was putting away folded laundry.

"What is is, buddy?" I asked, stepping into the bathroom. Braden was still in his pyjama pants and a worn T-shirt that hugged his ex-Marine muscle body. If we hadn't had sex first thing that morning, I would have been initiating something right then.

He had a nervous look. "Shut the door... " he said softly. "I just have this feeling, call it a daddy's intuition."

I'd barely shut it, when my son pulled down the flannel pants and hauled out his soft dong. He grabbed the stick of the pregnancy test and let his piss stream hit it for a few seconds.

"You mean...?" I asked excitedly.

Braden looked at me with nervous hopefulness. I realized then how much he really wanted this. Wanted to be impregnated with our fourth.

I was getting hard just waiting for the result, and I could see Brade chub up. I stepped up close and placed my hand on his shoulder as we both watched in anticipation. Then, clear as day, a plus appeared on the stick.

"God, Dad..." Braden said. He was 38 years old now, but he had almost the innocent enthusiasm he showed when he was 18.

We kissed. I'd missed this romantic connection, but it was like riding a bike. Braden was the best kisser I'd ever known, and his tongue dancing against my own, sucking me into his mouth before nudging back, was driving me wild.

"I need you inside me, Dad," he hissed. Already he was pushing those pyjama pants down.

"The boys..." I warned. We had to be restrained with even a quickie during these weekends.

"The door's shut," Brade hissed. He was turning away and leaning over the bathroom vanity slightly. Ready to be taken.

The lube was in the bedroom, but I opened the medicine cabinet and found the petroleum jelly, which we'd used a couple of times before. I smeared my breeder cock and got into position.

"Ooff!" Braden grunted at the sudden penetration. Then, "fuck me, Dad." He braced his hands on the sink ledge. "Fuck your son."

"My oldest son," I hissed. While Braden and I had kept up at least some regular sex life, it had been WAY too long since we'd indulged the verbal.

"Oldest of four... now five... oh fuck!"

I was thrusting now, and Braden was opening up for me. Our eyes locked on the mirror. At the vision of me mounting and fucking his newly pregnant muscle body.

"I love fucking breeding you, Brade... knocking you up."

"My hot fucking dad. Fucking stud patriarch."

God, Braden was gonna get me off quick. That and the pregnancy news.

"My hot fucking pregnant son." My hips were piledriving harder. We might not be able to get this hard later in Braden's pregnancy so I felt an urgency to take him like this while I could.

"Gonna keep barefoot and pregnant, Dad?"

Fuck, I was cumming, my hips locking and my dick spurting a heavy load inside Braden. His eyes watched my O face in the mirror as he stroked off to a heavy cum himself.

I gave my son a playful pat to his muscle ass when I withdrew and we kissed softly once more. "If you wanna clean up, Son, I'll go check on the boys."

"Yeah. Thanks, Dad."

"For what?" I laughed.

He laughed back. "For being my father. For giving me another kid. For that fuck. I don't know."

We kissed again then Brade started the shower.

I made myself presentable and went to the family room. There was inevitably the emotional whiplash of going from sex and romance time with Braden back to parenting mode. I had an intuition and sure enough Evan and Keith were fighting over the iPad.

"Dad! Keith is hogging it" The two brothers were just a year and a half apart in age. That meant they could get along famously one minute and be at each other's throat the next.

I had to play stern dad. "I'll take away both your screen time, fellas. Don't think I won't."

Junior's attention was on his phone but even in my peripheral vision I saw him smirk.

***

We did that study. Or at least we started. Fiedler's psychologist friend Mark said it was a long term study, though we could drop out any time. He assured us he'd only ask the boys general questions, whereas Brade and I would each be asked more probing questions.

It felt freeing to talk about my sex life and what incest meant to me in the privacy of his office. I had to hide my boner, but then realized it probably didn't matter.

"Do you feel normal?" the man finally asked me.

I had to think. "I know I'm not the norm," I said. "But deep down, what I have with Brade, our family, feels normal to me."

"What's been the hardest part for you?"

I didn't have to think, I knew right away. "The secrecy. Pretending I'm a coparent rather than Braden's husband."

The shrink wrote in his pad, then set it down. "That should be enough, Bill. I really appreciate you taking the time and opening up about your family."

It was weird being studied this way, but I liked the doctor's nonjudgmental approach. Reading between the lines of what Todd Fiedler told me, I wondered if Mark had an incest history of his own, or if it was something that turned him on. I almost asked.

Braden seemed in a quiet mood when I got home. But we enjoyed family time, watching a movie until it was time for Evan and Keith to go to bed. I'd had to lay down the law about a reasonable bedtime, and I could see Braden amused as I dealt with their pleading to stay up late this time.

But finally they went to brush their teeth and get ready for bed. I checked on them and when I came back, Braden was talking to Junior about starting up high school in a couple of weeks. It was the most animated I'd seen our eldest be in a while.

"I just know homework will get harder," he said.

"You're a good student, Junior," Braden said.

Our son smiled at the compliment. I didn't even have to get on his case, Junior was diligent when it came to school. "I just worry about balancing school and golf, you know?"

Already Junior was anticipating joining the golf team.

"You'll do fine," I said. "It's the dating life which might suffer," I teased.

Junior blushed but tried to be part of the grown-up conversation.

"I guess that's another good thing about high school, huh?" he said.

"It was for your dads," Braden said, leaning into my arm as we sat on the couch. I could tell he was feeling far more relaxed talking about these things with Junior.

Our son took that in and with hesitation asked. "Dad.... Daddy... how did you first start dating?"

Braden looked at me in a "should we tell him?" way.

I figured our son was old enough. I wouldn't give all the details, but I could start.

"Well, your Daddy was attracted to me, and deep down I was attracted to him, but I had to be a father first, you know. But when he was a senior, we let it happen. And pretty quickly, we knew it was serious."

"That's cool," Junior said. "I hope I find someone special like you two have."

"You will," Braden said.

Junior paused. "Dads... I haven't told you, but I'm pretty sure I'm gay."

"Pretty sure?" Braden asked.

Junior chuckled. "Well, completely sure."

I don't know why the news surprised me, but it did. "I'm proud of you, buddy... for realizing who you are. It took me a long time."

"Gosh," Junior said. Then thoughtfully, he added. "You know, I guess I worry what people with think. Having two dads, and if you made me gay."

Braden chimed in. "If your Dad and I cared what people think we wouldn't be happy."

That made Junior smile. He'd been lectured on the need of secrecy and the taboo about incest since he was young. "I guess not."

We made some more talk, mostly general stuff about dating, then Brade and I said it was time for bed.

As my husband and I got ready and stripped down, the conversation weighed heavily on us. "He's gonna be trouble," Braden said.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," my son replied. "He's a good looking kid... smart, maybe too smart." He snuggled up to me. "I wouldn't be surprised he if ends up a teen father like you."

Maybe it was the warm feel of Braden next to me, but I won't lie, my cock went rigid. Rock hard against my son's softly furred abs. That got a chuckle out of Braden.

"You like that idea," he said.

"Come on, Brade," I objected. It was an idle fantasy, not reality.

Braden didn't press me on, it though. Nor were we amping up to sex quickly. Instead my son kissed me softly. He was in a romancing mood, and I did my best to respond.

"Sorry if I was moody earlier," he said. "It was that interview with Mark."

My protective streak kicked in. "We don't have to participate, Brade," I said.

He nodded. "It's fine... only... did he make the moves on you?"

"No. Why?" Did Mark hit on Brade?

"He and I talked. The dude has SO many daddy issues. Jerks off to pictures of his dad each day. Only goes for guys who are older as a substitute."

"We didn't get personal, not like that," I said. I reflected. "Maybe it's common."

"I'm sure it is," Braden said, relieved. "I'm lucky as hell I have my actual father."

We kissed more intensely then Braden pushed me on my back. "Lie there, Dad," he said and reached over for the lube. "It's been a while since I've ridden that dad cock."

I placed my hands behind my head and grinned. "Pregnancy hormones kicking in?" We'd had sex that morning and usually didn't find time for twice in a day.

Braden smiled. "In a big way, Dad. Maybe that's why I got turned on hearing the doc talk about his father."

"Incest is really hot, isn't it?"

Braden slicked up my hardon and straddled me. "God yes." He settled back into place. I thought back to those homecoming fucks when Brade was in the Marines, coming back on leave, or home from deployment. And after our conversation with Junior, I realized how much Brade and I had almost forgotten about that phase of feeling each other out, trying to decide how much was physical transgression between father and son and how much was true love.

My dick penetrated him. Brade's hands were on my chest, feeling me up as he lowered down. "I love your cock, Dad. So much."

"I love your ass, buddy. Can't ever get enough."

"I wish more people could see us, Dad. See how a father and son mate." He settled further down. Lost in his sexual fantasy but also very much in the moment.

"Like Doug and Eric Newcomb?"

His eyes went wide. "You hear from those guys again?" I'd told Braden about

"From Doug, yeah. He and his boy want to visit sometime."

"God, I want you to fuck me in front of them... with my big pregnant gut..." OK, Brade wasn't kidding about the pregnancy hormones. His voice was getting louder.

I held onto his hips and pumped gently as we got deeper into the sex talk. But this was mostly Brade's fuck, his hips driving it like he wanted. He fucked himself on my dick to a hands-free cum. The very sight pushed me over the edge. The post-fuck kiss was amazing and we took our time to uncouple.

***

The next morning Junior had a knowing look on his face when I came into the kitchen to pour my coffee. We had one of those coffee makers with an automatic time. It took me a second to realize the pot was a little short.

"You drinking coffee?" I asked Junior.

"That's OK, Dad, right?" he asked, a combination of innocence and challenging me. Junior was a good kid but Braden was on to something. He was going to be a challenging teen to raise in his own way.

"Yeah, buddy, it's OK," I said. Pouring my own cup.

"Dad..." Junior said.

"Yeah?"

He stood up from the counter and dropped his voice to a whisper. "No disrespect. But you and Daddy might want to be quieter. I could hear you guys..."

I gulped, while trying not to act like things were out of the normal. Brade and I kept our sex life private, but we never wanted our boys to see anything unhealthy about our relationship. "Sorry, kiddo," I said. Trying to give a conspiratorial smile. "Though I guess you have something to tell that shrink next time."

At least that made Junior laugh. "Don't worry, Dad, I can keep a secret." He passed me and put his mug in the dishwasher. And he walked out to get ready for school.

***

I almost didn't make Braden's obstetrician appointment, and I was five minutes late. Everything seemed routine, until after a few tests when Doc Kennedy called us into his office.

"Braden... Bill... it turns out Braden's carrying twins."

I looked over at my son, who was stunned by the news. I, meanwhile, couldn't hide the big smile. Doc could tell and he chuckled at watching both of us.

"It'll make for a more physically exhausting pregnancy, Braden, but many men bear twins each year and have healthy young babies. Particularly since you're in your 30s still. We'll set up extra appointments to check in, and I'll give you some websites to read."

It was sinking in. "Wow, twins... " The smile was forming on Braden's face as he looked at me.

"Not the news you expected," Dr. Kennedy said with a chuckle.

"No, sir," Brade said.

The doctor explained, "It often happens when men take fertility pills."

"No fertility pills, Doctor," I said. "Just the old fashioned way."

He shrugged. "Like I say, it happens."

Braden and I couldn't wait to get home. I was supposed to go back to the office for a meeting, but I called out instead. My son and I had about forty minutes before we had to go pick up Evan and Keith from school.

"Goddamn, Dad," Braden said, excitement building in his voice as we stepped into the house. "We went right for number five, didn't stop at four sons."

"I'll be my fifth and sixth," I reminded Brade. I adjusted the hardon in my suit trousers.

"Guess I wasn't kidding about the barefoot and pregnant thing."

Brade and I kissed, hard. Our bodies connecting through our clothes, then the impatience as we stripped each other.

"Brade... Sport... I want you to go off the pills."

He didn't get it. "I'm already pregnant dad. Knocked up with twins."

I tugged his arm to guide him back to the bedroom. "I mean, once they're born. I want us to fuck unprotected from here on out... let the chips fall where they may."

"Jesus, Dad!" Brade really liked that idea.

"Your natural womb giving us a son whenever it happens."

"Yes, sir," Brade growled.

I wish I could say we consummated the news with a nice long romantic mating, but it was maybe three hot minutes of missionary sex. Brade's way. Legs wrapped around my waist, us kissing deep. Envisioning the two sons that were gonna grow inside Braden. And the future ones we gonna make.

It was hands-free for Braden, which seemed to happen more and more during his pregnancy, and I was three strokes behind, loading up my son-husband deep.

"I can't believe I'm getting two more grandkids," I said as I lay in the afterglow, stroking Braden's chest. Even those pecs would get full again, and I'd be able to milk feed from my son's bosom.

"Gonna need a bigger SUV, Dad. And we only have one car seat."

I mussed Braden's hair. "I thought I was supposed to be the practical one, Sport."

Braden laughed. "I guess you're rubbing off on me, old man." He leaned up and checked his watch. "Time for pick up duty."

"I got this, Brade," I said, sliding out of bed. I dug into my drawers and found clean underwear and a casual T shirt. "Why don't we go out as a family tonight, to celebrate? We can tell the boys the great news."

#drakestories

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