#linens-verse

[sarishim]

rudimentary tag drop, i'll add more as i think of them!

— the man dressed in linen‚ who was standing above the river; visage. — hebrew nonsense (affectionate); ooc / jewish stuff. — always some kind of fucking temperature; ooc / misc. — how will you hear my words and pleas; ooc / psa. — the current hyperfixation; ooc / research. — adinah's ramblings; ooc / tbd. — my sword has been sharpened since the sixth day of creation; muse study. — i have stretched out my hand‚ and no one regards; psyche. — from endless lights‚ I come back to thee; dash games. — i was born to pave the way‚ to let the masses hear; prompts / memes. — i am the spark that sets the flame of truth alight; prompts / opens. — i am the prince of fire‚ i will perform a miracle within a miracle; musings. — through fire and water‚ i shall walk with thee; aesthetics. — i shall be with thee through good and bad; verse / main. — g-d grant me the serenity to know i had to do it to 'em; pinned / DNI. — on all levels except physical‚ i am hugging you / promos. — take my hand and let us walk for miles / playlist. — the golden wine follows through my veins‚ i know the holy words; threads. — thy empty words shall avail thee not; headcanons.

[thanosscross]

Fake girlfriend, Fake boyfriend, silly! - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader

Summary: After your manager plotted a fake relationship between his two biggest signed rappers, you and Seung get very close, as best friends, but tell me this...would friends treat friends like how Seung Hyun treats you?

Warnings: None :)

Whenever you were first asked by your manager to start a fake relationship with a guy from one of his boy groups you were complexed, Not recognizing any K-pop idol named Seung Hyun. The first time met him was out at a meeting with your shared boss, Seung Hyun was secretly excited about meeting you, while he found it irritating that his boss felt the need to fake a girlfriend for him, he liked the idea of having someone as cool as you around.

"Seung Hyun, this is Y/n, she's going to your show girl, Y/n, this is Seung Hyun, also known as T.o.p, he'll be your show boy" You manager stated, after that you two became close, using the excuse of having to make it believable to spend almost every minute you could with each other. While you were close with all of BigBang, you and Seung Hyun just clicked together, often sharing a hotel room whenever you'd tour with him for your collaborated shows or songs. It didn't take long after the announcement of your fake relationship for people to immediately either hate or love it, you weren't a rapper like your fake boyfriend, but you did rap in some of your songs, even having a few verses with him where you rapped together, but your manager liked to utilize your voice more, liking the way it wasn't too high pitched but still feminine and calming. You had been 'together' now for almost a year, getting ready for your first full tour with BigBang, you were nervous but also excited, this was big for you, hopefully.

Waking up in your hotel bed you groaned, stretching your body as much as you could before slowly crawling out of your bed before slipping on one of Seung Hyun's hoodies, you weren't sure what time it was, but the sun wasn't up yet, so you knew it was sometime in the middle of the night. You attempted to fall back asleep, but everything was making you uncomfortable, the airport lost your luggage, so nothing in the room made you feel like home, no pillow, blanket, nothing, just the smell of the half ass detergent the hotel used to wash the linens, standing up for the second time you slowly made you way to the connecting you, knowing beyond the door all four guys were most likely asleep, you contemplated on going on, not wanting to risk waking anybody up, but right as you started to turn around Seung Hyun's words echoed in your head 'Don't worry about some silly pillow, if you need something that reminds you of back home, we're all a door away' Turning to face the door again you slowly twisted the knob, watching as it slowly opened into their dark room, all the lights were off and from the faint glow from your bathroom light you could faintly see where everybody was. Ji-Yong and Seung Hyun shared a bed, and Dae-Sung and Tae-Yang shared the other. You pressed Seung Hyun's hoodie to your lips slowly making your way over to whom you hoped to be your fake boyfriend and best friend "Seung hyun" You whispered, feeling your anxiety start to creep up inside of you as he turned his back to you, forcing Ji-yong to stir as well. It wasn't that you were scared or scared of the dark, but ever since you were a teenager you would have severe anxiety in the dark if you sat too long, so standing in the basically pitch-black room wasn't helping your anxiety with not wanting to wake anybody or being in a new weird place.

Trying to stifle your whimpered you felt your hands start to shake as you tried to wake your friend up again "Seung Hyun please...I really need you" You whimpered quietly, instead of your intended target, Ji-Yong slowly sat up, turning his head around confused letting his eyes focus on you "What's up, y/n? Are you okay?" He asked, you bit your lip, trying to swallow the lump in your throat in your throat, sitting up more due to your silence, Ji-yong grabbed his cell phone using the screen brightness to see your face. Seeing your upset state he frowned, catching on to what you were trying to do, he tried to help you, and eventually after about five more minutes, you finally woke Seung Hyun up. As he woke up he shot you both a nasty glare, not wiping it off of his face until his eyes focused and he saw your shaking frame slightly in the dark, without saying anything Seung Hyun just motioned for you to go back to your bed, following behind you with his pillow under his arm. "I-I'm sorry" You whimpered, holding onto the cuffs of the hoodie sleeves, trying any way possible to calm your raging anxiety "Don't. Just lay down, dalkomi" He whispered tiredly, as he pulled the blanket back for you, for a moment you thought he was going to go back to his bed, but instead he just shut the connecting door before laying down next to you "Don't steal all of the blankets again" He warned before wrapping his arm around you pulling you close to where your head laid on his chest, his fingers caressing your spine as you rested your hand on his chest, the more he moved his hand on your back the more you could feel the anxiety slipping away and the tiredness starting to slip in. It didn't take long before Seung Hyun felt your slow relaxed breaths, and the way your hand barely rested on his chest anymore.

You both woke up with a startle, your bandmates standing in your room cooing with their phones out "Sooo cute!" Dae-sung cheered as Seung Hyun groaned slamming his head under the pillow, you just shot them all a tired confused look "Come on Lovers! We have an hour until rehearsals!" Tae-yang reminded as he placed two coffees down on the table, before ushering the others out. Tiredly you turned to look at Seung Hyun who was still hiding under the pillow, you absent-mindedly traced your nails up his back "Aein...handsome, come on" You called sweetly, it wasn't odd for you to call each other pet names, you were actually quite flirty with each other even outside of pretending to be together, you weren't sure about Seung Hyun, but you just liked the way you clicked with him, and you liked the way he'd blush anytime you'd call him into another room by calling him Aein. You watched as he slowly lifted his head "Do we have to?..I'm comfortable" He complained, you just laughed offering him a sympathetic smile as you patted his back "Yep, we have to, now come on, handsome" You replied before climbing off of the bed going towards the large costume bag your manager had dropped off earlier "ooo We're going to look hot, Aein" You cooed as you opened the black bag, seeing the deep red fabrics of a suit and dress, on top of other things, giggling as every outfit was coordinated together, Seung Hyun moved to where you stood smiling "You're going to look amazing" He agreed, you blushed slightly as you pulled out your first outfits, handing the suit to Seung Hyun before you disappeared into the bathroom. After a few moments you both called out "Aein?.." "Dalkomi?" Giggling you opened the bathroom door stepping out "Zip me up?" You asked playfully, he walked over, carefully placing his hands above your waist to hold the fabric of the dress, zipping the zipper up and clasping the small latch he smiled "Tie this damn thing for me?" Seung Hyun asked, playfully pouting as he motioned to the black tie "Of course, handsome" You teased tying the tie effortlessly. As you pulled away you both stopped, staring into each other's eyes before hesitantly pulling away, what was that?

As the show started you stood in the center of the boys, the smoke machines layering a thick smoke over the floor of the stage, as you all dispersed you waited for your cue to start singing. You were having fun, completely forgetting all about your moment with Seung Hyun until Fantastic Baby, you had sat down more to the back of the stage to watch considering you weren't singing and weren't required to preform currently, As soon as Seung Hyun started his first verse he made his way to you pulling you to your feet as he rapped, bringing you close to him before finishing, nodding his head along to Ji-Yong, smiling as he followed to chorography facing you, you just laughed at him starting to mimic his movements, he brought the microphone close to his mouth cheering into the mic before moving back to the center of the stage to continue his second verse.

After the song came to an end you smirked hearing you voice layover theirs, the song transitioning into one of your favorites of yours. As you rapped along to it you took notice of Seung Hyun nodding his head along to your words, throwing some of his own chorography in, Seung Hyun rushed over to you, spinning you around before shaking his hips as he jumped around you, obviously having fun with his free time. As the song ended you panting attempting to catch your breath, Ji-yong circling the stage talking to the crowd as you regrouped with Seung Hyun and the others "Fuck it is next, ready for it?" Tae-yang asked, knowing that was the song that required the most interaction and movement between you and Seung Hyun other than Bae Bae and your back dancing with Seung Hyun for Zutter. "I'm already so tired" You mumbled as the track started to play, Seung Hyun just smiled, kissing your cheek as he rushed past, grouping with the guys for the beginning of the song. Other than your small verse towards the end, your main focus during this song was moving with Seung Hyun and the boys, basically bouncing between them all as a long interest.

Whenever the boys preformed If you, you used your opportunity to take a break, sitting down and taking a drink of your water you smiled in awe. You never heard Seung Hyun actually sing often, but you always loved it, you thought it sounded exactly how you manager described your voice. Whenever Zutter came on came on you were proud of yourself, hitting every move and mark perfectly with the music, and even whenever you'd throw you own little moves in with Seung Hyun, he still always knew what to do somehow, you watched as he pointed at you while rapping, you just rolled your eyes as you danced, giggling whenever you felt Seung Hyun press his hips against yours from behind, bouncing his hips with the beat of the music, your face immediately broke out in a blush as you smacked his chest in shock.

Whenever it came to your last song you purposely saved the most sexual and vulgar for last, you liked the chorography a lot, liking how confident it made you feel as you slid on to your knees at the end of the stage, bouncing on your knees for a moment as you sang, letting yourself slowly fall back you slid back arching your back away from the cold stage surface, silently thanking the spandex shorts under your dress, your head arched just enough to see Seun Hyun running his hands up his body and neck, mimicking your song from his spot at the far with the other boys. As the song ended you stayed were you were, waiting a moment for Seung Hyun to make his way helping you to your feet "That move was new" He stated on your walk back "You think the boss is going to like it?" He teased, you just rolled your eyes "I don't care, I did it for you, Aein" You smiled teasingly watching his face go red, as you all made your way to the end of the stage you smiled, standing on your mark on the platform waiting for the boys to reach theirs before you posed, you immediately kneeled down, using your hands to stabilize yourself Seung Hyun moved forward, pressing his fingers to your cheeks for you, causing you to giggle as the bass to Fantastic Baby played one last time before you all made your way towards the exit of the stage. As you approached the mark you slowed down, blushing brightly whenever Seung Hyun's hand quickly touched your ass, you turned around pretending to storm off stage, Seung Hyun looked towards the ground one last time before winking and running after you.

As you got off stage you were a blushing mess, Seung Hyun quick to find you, a bright smile on his face "I knew you'd be amazing! That's why you're T.O.P Best friend" He said proudly, never noticing your face falling as he called out your real title.

Right..Best friend

---

Ooo we love a slow burn with a fake relationship concept PLUS a clueless but cocky Choi Seung Hyun AND the rest of the band loving you? I dunno about you lovelies, but this gal likes a lot.

--

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@heartz4rubyy

[wandasaura]

TWO PEOPLE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER

summary — in an attempt to get wanda’s attention, you end up warming the strap you hoped she’d fuck you with.

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, strap-on usage, mommy kink, brief daddy kink, cockwarming, holding/accidental wetting, degradation, praise, aftercare, oral fixation, subspace, humiliation, ¿nursing?, idk you suck on wanda’s tits, domestic fluff, men/minors dni

authors note — if you’re familiar with the song peace, i thought the lyrics from the second verse fit this little moment so perfectly! mommy wanda lovers this one is for you, it was heavily requested so nobody look at me! there’s also some soft daddy nat for those that wanted to see more of her

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

You should have learned a long time ago that acting out with Wanda never ended the way you wanted it to. Natasha was easy to get what you wanted out of, a few bats of your eyelashes and a whispered cry of Daddy had her backtracking in seconds, but Wanda was unforgiving and found pride in that fact. You’d gained your footing in this new dynamic rather easily, and on some days, the three of you worked so perfectly together that it felt like you’d been a couple for your entire life, not merely a few weeks.  Wanda and Natasha had fallen into a healthy balance of being your girlfriends and being your dominants. There were days that passed without an ounce of tension, but other days feel like a battlefield. You still weren’t sure how to ask for what you needed from them, which is how you found yourself in the position you’re in now. With summer still lingering through the streets of Westview, you slept between warm bodies every night. There was no indication of what mood you woke up in when daylight painted the sky, but Natasha and Wanda had learned to wait for your not-so-subtle tells. When your eyes peeled open, it was easiest to gauge what side of you they were dealing with. When you wanted to spend the day, or at least a couple hours of your morning, as just their girlfriend, they gave you that without hesitance. Wanda giggled with you in the kitchen and Natasha tackled you onto the couch demanding cuddles, and it always felt easy and real. Other days, when you weren’t so willing to harbor full control of your life, you woke up clinging to your Daddy. It was always Natasha you sought out first thing in the morning, but Wanda can’t complain when she’s the one being smothered throughout the night. They were happy to be whoever you wanted them to be, but they’d slowly been working you up to asking for yourself. 

This morning was one of those days where Wanda decided that if you wanted something from her, you needed to ask and not just with your actions, but with your words. Natasha had gone into the office to oversee a development in a new high-profile case, leaving you to follow the Sokovian around the house like a little lost duckling. Where Wanda went you went, simple as that, well, unless of course she managed to close the door before you could get behind it. That had led to a series of whines and angrily stomped feet, but even then she hadn’t budged then. She hadn’t budged until you had wandered into her office with your hands clasped behind your back. She’d gone to ask what you needed, attempted to give you yet another chance to tell her that you needed your Mommy, but you’d dropped an all black strap-on into her lap and pouted at her with needy eyes before she could get the words out. When she’d pulled her linen shorts down her thighs and attached the harness around her hips, you’d thought you had won. When she told you to get into her lap and take the strap down to the hilt, you were sure that you had won. 

In case it wasn’t clear, you hadn’t won. It had been an hour since she’d asked you to come settle onto her lap and take the strap into your dripping pussy. You’d complied easily, sank down on the toy without her help, and had started grinded your hips against hers in a manner that forced the base to rock against her core perfectly. That pleasure hadn’t lasted long, barely three minutes, and just as your hips had found a comfortable pace, Wanda placed a bruising grip on your hips and completely stilled your movements.  Her lips had been wet when they kissed at the side of her neck, and a pleased hum reached your ears as she used a single slender finger to point your chin toward the ceiling. The full expanse of your neck had been both visible and biteable in that moment, and it hadn’t taken any convincing for her teeth to settle firmly into your skin. You found it laughable that at the start of your contract with Natasha, you’d likened her to a vampire, but Wanda was truly the vampire in your relationship. She possessed an incessant need to dig her teeth into any part of you that she could touch, and you allowed her to eagerly. She’d cooed at your whine when it tumbled from your lips, but there hadn’t been an ounce of sympathy in her face when she asked you, “What do you do to get what you want?” 

“Ask.” You had responded with bated breath, your eyes murky with lust that had been ignored for hours. If Natasha were here she’d have already fucked you raw, but Wanda wasn’t afraid of the long game. She’d never been shy about making you work for what you wanted, and even months into your dynamic with her, not as a couple but as a dominant and her submissive, it never failed to fluster you. Wanda was softer when you shared intimate moments outside of your dynamic. She still never let you top, but she was more lenient in giving in. Her being so firm with you had only cemented in your mind that she knew what you wanted, and the entire day leading up to you warming her strap had been merely a game to her. 

“Mmhm.” She had hummed haphazardly in response, and her hands had still been settled roughly on your hips but her eyes had left yours to trail over the documents that splayed across her desk in messy highlighted piles. You hadn’t had the slightest clue as to what she was really doing, but the rare sight of her so disorganized had felt serious. “And since you didn’t use your words, what happens?” 

You had whined and shook your head in a pleading protest, not wanting to lose your voice when you knew exactly what you wanted. Wanda hadn’t folded at your soft whine, she’d done the exact opposite. The tips of her fingers had pulled your hips down harder against the toy buried deep within your weeping walls, and the head of the dildo had nudged against your softest spot and made your torso fall slack against her chest. “Y-You decide what happens.” You’d finally forced the words into the space between your bodies, and it was rewarded with a sharp thrust of her hips that drove the strap-on further into your pussy. 

“That’s right. What should I decide, hm? I think I’d like to have my pretty little girl warm my strap for a while. What do you think about that idea?” She hadn’t really been asking you. You would’ve been condemned to the same fate even if you’d said no, but you found yourself nodding your head at her question despite how horrible it sounded to sit with your aching cunt filled with pleasure it couldn’t fully claim. “Good girl. Now settle down, Mommy has work to do that little girls shouldn't even be in here to see.” She had guided your head down onto her shoulder, forcing you into near complete darkness before her hands left your hips and returned to the stacks of important documents on her desk. 

You’d tried to remain still, knowing it was what she wanted and she’d have to reward your good behavior at some point, but as the minutes ticked by slower and slower not only did your core demand attention, your bladder demanded relief. The wiggling of your hips hadn’t been reprimanded when the movements started. Wanda had only hummed and shifted beneath you, easing the strap-on into a new position that did nothing for your desperate need to pee. She’d been keeping good on her promise of getting you to drink more water, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the exact predicament she had wanted you in when she forced you to finish an entire glass in the kitchen. Surely it wasn’t. Surely she didn’t want you squirming on her lap from sensations that weren’t caused by her, that wouldn’t make any sense. 

When your wiggling became more frantic and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to moan out in ecstasy or sob in frustration, Wanda sighed and dropped her pen onto the stack of papers that she’d very nearly gotten through completely. Your full and sensitive bladder made the strap-on drenched with arousal feel so much better. Every time Wanda inhaled too deeply or exhaled too sharply, you felt every grove of the cock rub against your walls. The sensation was sharp, fleeting, but embarrassingly addicting and you found yourself trying to replicate little actions that provoked it. Wanda wasn’t as unaware of your intentions as you’d hoped, and when you wiggled a bit too harshly in her lap, finally being rewarded with the quick burst of pleasure, her fingers found your hips again and stilled them just as quickly as she did the first time. 

“Keep still.” She sighed her demand, keeping her tone unbothered which only further provoked your desperation. It was always particularly hot when she acted as though your body writhing against hers had no effect on her. Despite leaving her pen to sit abandoned on the desk, you hadn’t felt her eyes burn into your skin throughout the entire exchange. Your face was still pressed into her neck, hiding in the darkness that you hoped would make this situation less humiliating. 

When you finally had the courage to look up at her, unable to keep yourself still any longer, you cupped her cheeks and directed her attention onto you. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You whispered softly, beyond humiliated with the reluctant admission. Your face turned a flush shade of pink that Wanda thought complemented your eyes perfectly, and you knew you had her full attention when her pupils dilated just the farthest bit more. There was hardly any green left in her stare, but you clung to what little color remained. 

“What was that, little one? Mommy couldn’t hear you.” Wanda pouted her lips, her eyes filled with innocent confusion that wasn’t at all authentic. She’d heard you perfectly clear, you were too close to her face for the words to have fallen short before they met her ears, but she wasn’t letting go of your hips without a further explanation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold yourself together for. 

“I have to pee.” You said just the faintest bit louder, hoping your pleading eyes would be enough to convey the desperation you felt within your weeping core and taut bladder. You felt so incredibly full, and every time you took a breath that feeling only intensified. 

“Oh, well you can hold it just a little bit longer I’m sure. Mommy’s almost done.” Wanda smiled a sweet sympathetic smile, the grip on your hips slowly becoming softer as she let the pads of her thumb soothe the aching skin with tight soft circles you wished would land somewhere else. 

“I can’t.” You pleaded with her to understand just how badly you had to go, you’d already been holding it for so long trying to make her proud. Wanda frowned at your plea, her cherry tinted lips the only thing you could focus on. 

“Well that’s too bad, milaya.” She said simply, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant manner that made your walls clench and your clit throb. “Try harder for Mommy, I’m sure you can do it.” She conceded when your frown didn’t waver, and ever so softly she pecked your lips before things went back to how they were before you’d interrupted her. Your head was guided back down onto her shoulder, and her hands went back to work shuffling through documents that you could only assume she was annotating. 

Another half hour had passed before you couldn’t hold yourself together anymore. You’d lasted longer than you’d anticipated with her full you felt, but the end was in sight as the muscles in your belly fought vicious wars to keep your dignity. You were so close to the edge that even Wanda’s gentle breathing felt like pin pricks against your spine. As your need to relieve yourself grew more intense, so did the coil in your belly that seemed to find fuel in your desperation. A soft cry tumbled past your lips before the dam broke and the coil snapped. You dampened her lap with more than just arousal, and the wet feeling that spread across hers and your thighs only made you cry harder. Moans tumbled past your lips when your cries fell short, and it became a desperate attempt to both seek harder pressure against your clit and get completely away from the wetness that was quickly becoming cold against yours and her naked skin. 

“Oh baby, did you have an accident?” Wanda cooed sympathetically, not even having to look down at your glazed over eyes to know what headspace you’d tumbled into. Your cries weren’t one of pain, nor were they really ones of frustration either. You weeped with humiliation and the desperate need to finally be spoken to. She’d been merely answering you all day, no ounce of elaboration in the short sentences shared. You needed your Mommy, and Wanda wasn’t going to deny you that any longer when you’d been so good for her. Granted, the accident hadn’t been a part of her plan. She’d only intended to make you hold yourself, but she couldn’t deny that it was hot, though a little uncomfortable to be sitting in a cold and wet chair. Despite wanting to get away from the mess, Wanda remained in her chair and devoted her attention to you. In truth, she’d finished her paperwork twenty minutes ago, she’d just been waiting for you to finally break. “Why didn’t you tell Mommy you needed to go potty, silly girl?” 

The words weren’t fully registering in your head, every noise felt miles away and muffled by thick cotton on your ears. If you’d been in a sounder mind, you would have snapped your gaze up to her so quickly that your neck would’ve broken, but that never came. You’d warned her as well as you could that if she didn’t let you up this would happen, but she had taken her chances and the outcome had been exactly what you’d expected. Wanda hummed soothingly when you burrowed your face into her shoulder and your mouth went to work on the little bits of skin that were available beside the collar of her t-shirt. The cock still in your pussy was the farthest thing from your mind, but when Wanda shifted you into her arms so she could finally stand and move away from your accident, you whined at the sensation of your full cunt being empty for the first time in hours. 

“Shh, it’s okay, malen’kaya. You’re okay.” Even in Natasha’s absence the Sokovian spoke Russian. She had no real connection to her native language that had died when her brother did, and whatever she said to you in this moment would fall upon deaf ears anyway. It didn’t matter what language she let fall past her lips, all that you could comprehend in this state was that your Mommy’s arms were wrapped tightly around you and she was so cruelly pulling something away the only thing that had been with you for hours. “We’re gonna get you all cleaned up. Just be patient with Mommy.” Leaving her office chair to be handled at a different time, she honestly might just order a new one, having no intense attachment to the black swivel chair that’s only purpose was to sit on, Wanda carried you back into the master bedroom.

She made quick work of undressing you, soothing your whines of protest when the cold air ambushed your flush and warm skin. Your shorts and panties had been discarded on the floor of her office, so all she had to strip you out of was one of Natasha’s old t-shirts that you had found in the back of the closet and adamantly adored. You reached for her throughout the entire process, a far away look in your eyes as you barely even registered her face coming so close to yours that her breath splayed across your lips. She kissed you softly, capturing your full attention as you returned the embrace, all the while her hands were pulling the piss soaked strap-on off of her hips and away from her core that throbbed to be dealt with, but she could handle the unsatisfied ache. Unlike you, Wanda was particularly fond of edging, the only problem that came with her interest was she never relinquished control for long enough to ever have it be done to her. 

You huffed when she pulled away from your lips in favor of throwing her t-shirt onto the floor with the already existing pile of your own clothes. She left you laying alone in the center of the bed, making a mental note to throw the comforter in the washer before any of you tried to sleep beneath them later on, and walked into the en-suite bathroom. She drew a nice bath, taking the extra minutes to add your favorite bath bomb into the warm water and light the few candles that remained around the edge of the tub. Bubbles were a must, you demanded them every time either of the redheads even suggested taking a bath, so while the water was still running Wanda added them to the tub as well. You didn’t like a hot bath, a fact that you had been sure to tell Natasha when she’d first tried to lower you into an aftercare session with one, so Wanda figured she had plenty of time to go back and collect you while the water cooled down some more. She could already see the bath bomb coloring the water pink as she left, and she knew both yours and her skin would smell like strawberries and vanilla once you crawled out and dried off. 

You had come back to yourself the faintest bit when Wanda re-entered the bedroom. You’d curled up onto your side, your head resting on one of your arms as you let your eyes remain closed. At the sound of her gentle footsteps, wide eyes still glassy shot open and searched for her. Unlike the state you’d been in when she left to run the bath, you were able to recognize her presence now and you made that very clear. “Mommy!” You cried, a fresh set of tears brimming your eyes as you reached a single hand out to her. Wanda kneeled down in front of the bed, gently taking your hand in hers and kissing it softly.

The hand that wasn’t occupied reach out to brush strands of fallen hair away from your face, and as expected, when she ran the pad of her thumb over your bottom lip, your tongue shot out to lick at it before soft lips claimed it entirely. Wanda smiled fondly, her other fingers gently stroking against your cheek. “Privet, moya milaya devochka.” 

You were still too far gone to comprehend the Russian sentence that you had become familiar with, but that didn’t bother Wanda who hadn’t been expecting a response in the first place. You were falling out of your head fairly quickly, and she worried that your humiliation was the leading factor in your unwillingness to let the fog linger fully. 

“Left.” You croaked pitifully around the soft weight of her thumb in your mouth, your wide eyes desperate for her to understand the message you were trying to convey and not let it happen again. 

“I didn’t leave.” Wanda shook her head firmly, placing another kiss to the top of your hand that curled around hers tightly, unwilling to let go for even a single second. You were always clingy when she got you in this state, and she adored every second of it. “Mommy ran us a bath. We’ve gotta get cleaned up.” She promised you, and at the mention of one of your favorite activities, your torso shot up from the bed and her hand fell away from your face. You wobbled in your disoriented and fuzzy state, leaning into her touch when she reached out to stabilize you. “Come on, sweetheart. There are bubbles waiting for you!” 

Wanda helped you into the bathroom, easing herself into the tub before she helped you over the edge and into her arms. You didn’t go for her fingers like she’d anticipated, merely wiggling your way down in her embrace until your head fell onto the swell of her breast. Not wanting to question you when you were so sensitive, Wanda merely dragged her hand across the inside of your thigh as you sat sideways in her lap, transfixed on the sharp edge of her jaw that clenched when you got too far into her head. She’d have to remember to thank Natasha for pushing to get the bigger tub when they’d remodeled the bathroom years ago, it was certainly coming in handy now. Your body was washed with tender touches, the loofa used a light blue color and saturated in Wanda’s own body wash. She didn’t know why you continued to buy your own, when the only one who ended up using it was her after you’d taken the last of hers. 

It was a comfortable silence that fell over the both of you as the bath water slowly became colder and colder, and with each minute that passed in combination with Wanda’s gentle stroking of your hip or your cheeks, you fell firmly beneath the blanket of fuzzy emptiness that you’d been fighting off before. You felt so loved and so cared for, there wasn’t a single thought in your mind beside her. The humiliation of your accident had waned away, replaced by only flourishing warmth. 

Eventually, your lips began to root around for something to suckle on. Wanda’s fingers hadn’t moved to your mouth quick enough, and your tongue sought out the first soft thing that it could find. A gasp fell from Wanda’s lips when you took her sensitive nipple into your mouth, a sharp sensation shooting through her body that was in no way sexual. She’d always had her speculations about this kind of contact, but now that she had it for herself to experience, she understood. She had all of your mind in her hands at this moment, but you had all of her body. It was a delicate balance that further emphasized how your relationship could only thrive if all parties were equal and respected. Wanda trailed a soft finger over the bridge of your nose, her own scrunching up in admiration. 

“Find something you like, little one?” She teased, but there was no bite behind her words as she gently adjusted your latch to be more comfortable for the both of you. The bath water was officially cold, no longer able to be passed off as warm, but Wanda would allow you to sit in it just this once. She was always such a stickler for crawling out of the tub when the water went cold, but even she didn’t want to leave the intimacy of this moment as your eyes fluttered closed and your tongue made gentle sweeps across her nipple. “You did so good for me. So so good. Mommy’s so proud of you. My good girl.” She whispered delicate praise into the otherwise quiet bathroom, her eyes appreciating how the dim candle light made your glassy eyes glow like a fire had been placed behind them. 

She could faintly hear the front door open downstairs and she smiled knowing that Natasha had finally made it home. It wasn’t often that the Russian went into the office alone, but today had worked out weirdly and Wanda wouldn’t trade it for anything. Natasha had noticed how quiet the house was upon entering, and she tried her best not to disturb the stillness that you and Wanda had created. She took the stairs one at a time, peeking into Wanda’s office when she noticed the door was oddly ajar. Wanda either had the door firmly closed or entirely open, it was never left in the half-opened state it was now. Two pairs of shorts and the puddle on the floor told her everything she needed to know about what had happened while she was away at work. Anticipating your blissed out headspace and Wanda’s full hands, Natasha cleaned the scene, still dressed in business slacks and an off-white satin blouse. The chair had been scrubbed and sanitized, and the floor had been given the same treatment in only a matter of minutes. There was no need to buy a new chair now, and memories of this afternoon would linger in the room anytime either one of you set your sight on it. 

Natasha carried yours and Wanda’s shorts back into the bedroom. She picked up the pile of clothes that had been left on the floor, adding them to the laundry basket they kept hidden away in the closet before her own clothes were thrown on top. She dressed quickly, able to hear the one-sided conversation that was happening on the other side of the wall. 

“Daddy’s home.” Wanda cooed sweetly to you, her eyes filled with gentle love and admiration that felt so full she wanted to cry. You barely heard her words, and if you did, you didn’t fully comprehend them, but she didn’t expect you to. “She’ll be so proud of how good you were for Mommy. The best little duckling.” 

Natasha had decided then to make her presence known, two big and cozy towels in her hands. The initial sight of you and Wanda together had shocked her, her eyes transfixed on where her wife’s nipple was in your mouth, but she didn’t make it a big deal. Lowering herself onto the tile floor beside the tub, placing the towels just out of what she deemed the splash zone, the Russian reached out gently to caress your still flush cheeks. 

“How did this happen?” Natasha questioned Wanda, keeping her voice soft so as to not disturb you when you looked so content and fulfilled. The scent of strawberry and vanilla clung to the air in the bathroom, enough for Natasha to know that one of your favorite bath bombs had been thrown into the tub. 

“She’s down deep.” Wanda merely hummed, leaning over the edge of the tub to lay her lips against Natasha’s. “It was the first thing she found when she decided she needed something in her mouth.” Wanda laughed softly, the vibrations jostling her breasts much to your displeasure. Your hand fell onto the swell of her breast, keeping it still as you suckled contently despite the near interruption. 

“I can’t say I blame her.” Natasha teasingly pinched at Wanda’s nipple, not missing the way the Sokovian’s eyes fluttered closed and she chased the sensation when it was pulled away. Wanda had sensitive nipples, it was a known fact that Natasha loved to abuse, but something about this moment with you just felt entirely pure and wholesome. “Let me be the bad guy and get her out. You’re freezing.” Natasha frowned when she noticed just how cold to the touch Wanda’s skin was. She grabbed at you instantly, noticing that the sections of your skin that had been submerged in the water were just as cold as Wanda’s. 

You whined in protest when you were pulled away from Wanda’s chest and wrapped up like a little bug in the towel that Natasha had brought into the bathroom for you. Natasha didn’t bat an eye at your pitiful whimpering, carrying out of the bathroom and toward the guest bedroom when she gathered the hint that the comforter needed to be washed before any of you laid beneath it that night. It was scary how in tune she and Wanda could be at times, but you weren’t fully present enough to comment on their freaky telepathy. 

Natasha got you dressed into a pair of summer pajamas that still occupied the guest room from when you’d first started spending the night. Your clothes occupied nearly every room at this point, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She adored the little traces of your presence that popped up at random moments, which might be the reason why she no longer scolds you for leaving your shoes in every corner of the house despite the large collection at the front door. By the time you're beneath the blankets in the guest bed, Wanda’s coming into the room in a pair of pajama shorts, though she’s still void of a shirt. 

“Giving in so easily, moya lyubov’? And here I thought you were the strict one.” Natasha teased, knowing fully what Wanda had intended on when she purposefully left the matching top in the drawer where the shorts used to lay. 

“I introduced her to a lot today. I’m not going to try and get her to take my fingers when I know that’s not what she wants.” Wanda merely shrugged, allowing her soft heart to bleed into her words for the briefest minute before she was slipping back into the headspace you craved. “Come here, my little duckling. Let’s get you all comfy.” Wanda pulled your body into hers, guiding your lips down to her chest. Her nipple was sensitive, sore from the earlier abuse, but she didn’t mind the sting of pain that came when your lips wrapped firmly around her skin. “You did so good today, milaya. So good.” 

Natasha curled herself around Wanda, keeping you close between the both of them. It wasn’t long before your lips fell slack around Wanda’s nipple and your breathing evened out. Wanda and Natasha smiled down at you endearingly, deciding there was no harm in taking a little nap after the day that they'd had.

[reallyromealone]

Title: Oh Look a mate(s)

Chapter 3

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: omega verse, nsfw, male reader, gay, smut, attempted assassination, drugging, biting, torture

Notes:

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

It was tomorrow.

The wedding was tomorrow.

(Name) Was quiet as he waited in the altar room, candles circling the room as marble carved murals surrounded him, the ceiling glass and the moon directly above him.

He sat in silence as the moon reached its peak before shadows flooded around him, a cold smoke that strangely didn't strike him with fear but instead filled him with warmth and safety. "Good Omega" one of the voices whispered as shadowy hands grabbed at him, gently touching and smoothing over the linen nightgown he wore before a long finger sliced it down the middle "Shhh" he could hear Satan's voice whisper in his ear as the seven men materialized and kissed various parts of his now exposed flesh "beautiful..." Mammon whispered breathlessly before biting into (name) 's flesh, the others doing the same.

Each scent gland was claimed as a tattoo manifested onto their soulmate tattoos, the demons licking and kissing their soulmate marks "You're bonded to us forever... Whenever you need us, call for us..." Beelzebub said as his blackened eyes gently kissed (name) 's lips as the fire of the candles burned brighter "Alphas...." (Name) Babbled as he leaned into someone's shoulders, Levi he believed... "So beautiful..." Asmodeus whispered as his hand crept down to the other's abdomen and began whispering enchantments, hand glowing as a tattoo formed on his stomach "Your first heat will be in less than 24 hours, this will help keep it from hurting so badly"

Never would he be denied a heat again.

The men scented and kissed (name), they could smell the slick flowing from him but knew better and to wait, wait till it was time.

When morning came, (name) was kept from his alphas all morning as he was polished to perfection, traditional white robes and gold accessories set aside as they painted swirls on his body, apparently matching the marks that would be on his alphas.

He looked at himself in the mirror, the makeup, the paint, and the clothes... He hardly recognized himself.

But it was him.

All him.

Lucifer made sure the guards were on high alert as he and his brothers got dressed, in their traditional robes that were the color of their omegas eyes, as is tradition in the kingdom, they already had two people sneak in after all.

"Your Majesty?" A meek voice spoke out as the demon turned to see an Omega maid look nervous, his eyes sharp and calculating "What is it?" He said simply and the maid straightened her back a bit before speaking once more "His Highness... He's extremely stressed and I thought it would be best if one of his--" Lucifer was already darting out of the room for his mate, he didn't care if he wasn't supposed to see him till the wedding.

His mate needed him.

(Name) Was freaking out as his omega decided Kw was an excellent time to freak out over the lack of alphas.

To be fair he got scented every morning but today, was a very high-stress day.

"My, aren't you beautiful" (name) snapped his head up as the maids left the room with haste and (name) whined and ran towards him, shoving his face into the alpha's chest and whining "My, can't go a day without your alphas?" He teased and lifted (name) 's face to look at it "None of that, you will ruin your pretty makeup" he was only soft for his omega, gentle kisses "We have a wedding, right? We will dance and party and then when the moon is high we will take you back here" he promised and kissed (name), scenting him lovingly.

"Now be good for alpha" he commanded, a slight alpha tone that they found calms (name). He liked not being in control all the time, instinctually.

"Ok alpha" he whispered hazily as the maids came back in and Lucifer left to finish getting ready, confident that he calmed his mate.

(Name) Looked nervous as he was ushered into a beautiful fabric and mahogany palanquin, the finest silks used for it "To walk you to the temple, your Highness" a soldier said calmly and (name) nodded as the soldiers in celebratory costume lifted it and (name) tried not to yelp.

He walked through the city, a grand parade to show the people the next queen, and (name) shyly waved at them as the people cheered in joy and some looked in envy at him. He could hear screaming in the distance, too focused on the slight shake with each step the guards took and the loud sounds around him to figure out what direction it came from exactly but the bullet that flew past his nose as a man was pinned down by guards have his answer, the omegas palanquin lowering as the guards checked on him "oh thank goodness... Are you alright your Highness?" The general that was a bit ahead rushed to check on him and (name) though stunned and Shellshocked, nodded slowly the Alpha nodded with a sigh of relief "We will get there soon your Highness"

The parade continued and (name) tried to regulate his breathing as he lifted his sleeves and took in the smell of Lucifer that clung to him, too close to his heat to be able to properly handle this.

God, he was so tired...

"We're here your Highness" Had that much time passed?

(Name) Was helped out by his maids, dressed in floral traditional outfits, darker colors as to highlight (name) 's snow white robes that dragged behind him, gold accents matching his accessories "You got this, your Highness" (name) 's closest maid, the one in charge of his maids smiled and (name) nodded before walking up the steps of the temple as people cheered.

Traditional fan dancers danced in front of him, a beautiful display as the guests of the wedding sat and watched in awe as (name) locked eyes with his alphas and had to suppress a chirp. The dancers moved their fans away to make an entrance for (name) to walk closer to them, Asmodeus taking his hands and kissing them gently as the others looked fond at the sight of their beloved, even Belphegor awake and focused on (name).

(Name) Looked at the guests, from countless kingdoms the Royals down to the mayors from cities including the village he was from, and looked in awe at the realization of how large this temple was, it seemed so small in the darkness.

(Name) Barely focused on the priestess as he looked at his mates, shadowy magic binding them together as (name) agreed to the contract of marriage "bound by the fates and the demon king himself, his Highness (name) Morningstar is granted a gift from his majesty of immortality, may his heart beat so long as his alphas" the demon king sat in the distance, watching his younger sons fondly, leaving hell to witness such an event as a red-haired demon stood beside him while staring intently.

(Name) Felt warm as he was brought close by his alphas and danced with them, a grand party that was sure to go on for the next week as guests watched and the city partied and after brought around to be introduced to guests "This is our elder brother, the next king" Lucifer introduced the Omega to his elder brother, next king of hell and intimidating to say the least but the large grin that broke out on his face said otherwise "my, a pleasure to meet you! My apologies that it took me so long to be able to meet you! Let me know if they act up all right. It will be nice to not have a little brother that will get on my nerves!" He teased as he hugged (name) and seemed so warm and understanding to him.

"My mate couldn't make it sadly, they're too far along to make the trip but hopefully after you two can meet!" Lucifer felt warm that his elder brother and a mate got along so well as the other brothers were dragged to talk to guests and eventually Lucifer and (name) went to speak to others, the Omega passed from alpha to alpha to not hog.

"An hour and you don't greet your parents?" (Name) Froze under Asmodeus' gentle hold as he turned to see the mayor of his village and his parents... And sister.

How did they get here?

"Not even an invite, thankfully our dear mayor invited us as his plus ones as his wife and sons couldn't make it," she said casually as his sister altered between glaring at him and swooning over Asmodeus, the beta looking flirty and showing her bust at him but the demon didn't even acknowledge her as he tilted his head at his mate's parents with a cold smile (name) didn't recognize but the gentle thumb rubbing his hip told him he was safe "my~ isn't this a surprise, (name) darling... Why don't you go make sure Beelzie doesn't eat everything, yes?" He urged his hesitant Omega who looked so precious and watched him walk away.

"E-excuse me!" The dad tried barking out and Asmodeus smiled coldly, a beta demanding not just an alpha but a supernatural alpha. Laughable really "I will allow you to continue to enjoy this celebration but if I hear even a whisper of my mate's name from any of your lips that isn't shining adoration I will remind you of your place," Asmodeus said barely above a whisper as he towered over the stumpy beta and his family, he read the letter.

All seven brothers read the letter.

And despite not being wrath, Asmodeus was the most upset.

No flirting, no banter.

Just a thinly veiled threat.

"Now you best behave"

You would think this Would deter (sister), make her behave... But no no.

She was hell-bent on having them.

Breaking this farce is a marriage.

It was expensive getting rut enhancer drugs but it was worth it in her eyes she looked around and saw that (name) was moved to Belphegor who sat in a corner quietly and (name) said worthless words to him and saw that Beelzebub was enjoying his food.

Perfect.

The drug was a fine powder, easy to mask on the powdered cream puffs that the demon was gorging on, slipping past when he went for some ribs and sprinkling on.

She just had to be available when the drugs kicked in.

It was not too long before the demon returned his attention to the cream puffs... But other people took them as well.

Like servants bringing them to their kings.

Oh well, she thought as she focused on Beelzebub and deemed everyone else as a stepping stone to her happiness.

Beelzebub froze after ten minutes, eyes dilating as he stood and looked around "Are you alright?" She tried to seduce the Alpha, pressing against him but like her brother, she didn't quite understand how mating worked and believed he would go to the first willing hole.

But in reality, he sought out (name) who was talking to Diavolos butler, the two fondly chatting about something or another.

"Move," he said coldly as he locked onto (name) marched to him, and lifted him, the other brothers looked concerned as Diavolo decided to start a ring dance and nodded at Lucifer, they all seemed to understand what was happening. (Name) Was confused as he was held close by his alpha who left the temple gardens and spread his wings before taking off, (name) shoving his face in Beelzebub's neck and that's when he smelt the rut. He couldn't help but whine, he was trying so hard not to go into heat but fuck...

He closed his eyes and felt himself sink further, sounds distorting and he felt his clothes removed carefully as voices spoke around him "he will be upset if we ruin this" Asmodeus...? Or is that Satan? "Alpha?" He slurred as the alphas kissed his flesh, cold to the touch and he felt something hard press against his back before he was pushed into his back, he couldn't even formulate a feeling of shame or worry as Belphegor traced the body paint that was on (name)s flesh "pretty..." The sleep demon murmured as he touched the womb tattoo a wave of pleasure washed through (name) and a low moan broke through him "Any pain he feels will feel like absolute pleasure... We may be dealing with a very horny Omega" Asmodeus teased, they didn't have an incantation to make him feel no pain during heat or pregnancy so it was the best option.

Especially because he kept moaning and crying, without it he would be writhing in pain.

"Why don't you spread your legs for us? Hmm? Show us how an Omega presents?" Lucifer spoke low and deep to the Omega who spread his legs on the bed and yelped when Beelzebub shoved his face between his legs and gave a long lick, pushing his legs over his shoulders as half his body was pulled nearly off the bed, Beelzebub on his knees before the bed. "O-oh! Alpha!" He cried out as Beelzebub ate his ass, licking around the rim before pushing in ever so slightly as the smell of slick was heavy in the room "wanna make alpha feel good? Why don't you show Levi here how much you want his cock?" Asmodeus took the initiative with getting (name) to pleasure them as they pleasured him, the Omega opening his mouth so prettily as the shy alpha fed him his cock, (name) licking the underside as he sucked. "H-how did he get so good?!" Levi gasped as he felt (name) hollow his cheeks with a vice force "I have been teaching him how to be a good little cock whore~" Asmodeus teased as Belphegor sucked on one of (name)s nipples as Asmodeus and Lucifer got hand jobs, the two assisting (name) a bit as his body shook.

Satan kissed his navel before moving to the omegas cock and sucking on it, the pre-cum leaking like crazy as (name) struggled to comprehend all the pleasure he felt, hips being held down as Beelzebub inserted a finger, curving it upwards against his prostate as he ate his ass like a final meal and added another finger "you're gonna be-- fuck! Taking a lot tonight baby ~" Asmodeus stammered as Levi came down (name)s throat, the Omega choking slightly but managing "fuck..? Shit.." Levi was already babbling as (name) 's body shook and a climax rolled through, Satan drinking it all "You want more?" Lucifer asked the Omega who whined "Nest!" Beelzebub wasting no time, feral and horny As the other alphas slowly went into a rut from being around a heat-stricken Omega, their demon forms were on full display. (Name) Was settled into his nest as they let Beelzebub enter first his large and heavy cock pressing against (name)s ass as (name) made out with Lucifer, pretty little sounds as Beelzebub pushed in slowly.

Each inch made for louder and prettier sounds from (name) as his body glistened with sweat, another climax rolling through him as Beelzebub was halfway through bottoming out before his hips snapped forward and his pelvic bone was pressed against (name)s ass cheeks "oh! Big...!" He cried out and pushed against him as Belphegor went behind him and held him up, kissing his neck as the others watched hungrily.

Beelzebub wasted no time pistoning his hips as (name) clawed at his skin, body shaking and writhing in pleasure as he poured slick "puppy up!" He cried out as he begged to be bread, owned and full... Belphegor moved around to Sroke (name)s cock and kiss his neck before biting into its neck watching (name) unfold as Beelzebub rolled his hips at the tightness and his grip so tight it was going to leave dark bruises on his hips come morning.

"Please please! Pup!" (Name) Begged for cum, pulling Beelzebub for a kiss and tasting his slick as the alpha's hips slammed one last time and cum poured into him, hot and sticky.

Beelzebub felt some sanity return to him as he looked at a fucked out (name) who couldn't even form words but babbled nonsense as Belphegor kissed him and coddled him "Let's get water and food into him then the next round starts" Lucifer instructed as they already prepared the necessary things that morning, food tested by the demons along with the water before feeding it to (name).

(Name) May have immortality but they still didn't want anything to happen to him.

Though poison pains right now would probably give him six earth-shattering orgasms.

No! No! Bad!

They washed the sweat and paint off his body as (name) recovered slightly but soon grew whiny as he was placed on top of Asmodeus, cock pushing in with ease and crying as Asmodeus gave harsh and slow thrusts.

"Come now, you got more to take ~"

Mammon was furious, absolutely livid as he slammed his fist against the assassin's skull, not wanting this vermin alive as his mate struggled with his heat and six cocks currently "You are taking my precious time with my mate, who the fuck sent you?" He was bordering feral as the assassin finally gave in "The sister! She wanted him dead!"

Oh?

Interesting.

Mammon left swiftly, telling the guards to find her, she couldn't have gotten far after all.

For now, the greedy demon needed to sink his cock into (name)s cute little ass.

And maybe bite it.

Bite it.

When he walked into the heated room, already nude he was met with (name) being railed by Asmodeus and Satan, cocks moving in his hole at vigorous paces as (name) sucked Lucifer's cock like he would die "(name), look whose here" Lucifer pulled him off his cock to look at mammon and the whine and moan that left his lips as he cried for the silver-haired demon, hands reaching for him, and who was mammon to deny something like this?

Mammon shoved his tongue in (name) 's mouth and relished as the Omega tugged at his hair "Wanna make me feel good?" He didn't even have to show his erect cock as (name) moved and took it in his mouth, mammon sighing at the tightness of his throat "he's a natural" Satan slapped (name)s ass as he pounded as Asmodeus sucked on his chest, the omegas hands going back to work as everyone slowly found a spot for them, the Omega cumming again in the process.

(Name) Was unconscious with Belphegor, needing a heavy rest before the next wave and thoroughly fucked out, the other alphas getting their turns after as Mammon reported findings and what the assassin admitted "She most definitely drugged Bee, our ruts not till winter" Asmodeus said thoughtfully, he should have just let Satan do what he originally wanted to do but that was (name)s choice, not theirs.

But now it was treason that they were talking about.

An attempted assassination against (name).

You see when Diavolo was the next king of hell, they were given rule of the overworld and essentially made (name) queen as they were to be overworld kings come coronation granted by their eldest brother.

And after this, (name) would be carrying their heir.

God, they were half erect at the thought of (name) pregnant.

"I have a manhunt for them, a bounty will be put up as well"

For now, they would care for (name).

When (name) woke, he couldn't feel his legs and his head felt foggy as he was placed into a warm bath "Good morning, lamb" Satan caressed his cheek "Alpha?" He said weakly, voice hoarse from their activities as Mammon gently massaged oils into him, the alphas already washing the cum and sweat off him "Hello pretty baby~ you took us so well, we are so proud of you" (name) chirped at the praise as he received loving kisses "after this was gonna feed you" Lucifer promised and (name) felt a slight sense of clarity "cuddle? Before heat comes back?" He asked as the others smiled, unable to resist the request.

(Name) Was naked and dried off as he cuddled the others who doted on him "You did so well, absolutely beautiful my love" Asmodeus cooed, and (name) let him kiss and love him "My garden?" He asked softly, why that was his worry beyond anyone but Lucifer eased his worries with the promise of the gardeners taking care of it.

For now, he was to relax.

[verbenaa]

air so deep and sweet

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: “You’re just utterly shameless, aren’t you?’ He tsks, “Seducing me away from my work like this.”

Astarion’s eyes rove your form laying beneath him in reverence, the silken strands of your hair spread like a halo around your face and your dress a mess around your waist.

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𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Astarion/Reader 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut, fluff, slice of life! 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 7.1k 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: body worship, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, hand jobs, vampire bites, mentions/discussions of anal, vaginal sex, vampire sex, soft dom astarion

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

𝑎/𝑛: This is my first ever fanfiction despite a literal 20 years of reading them LOL i truly have lost the plot. Find me on ao3 too, my username is leadii 💕

ao3 here

masterlist

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Dim candlelight plays along the walls of Astarion’s studio, illuminating the discarded bolts of fabric leaning against the wall with haphazard grace, the threads of linens, silks, and cottons a riot of color against the muted walls. Spools of silken thread and tangles of ribbon lay sprawling across the work table, interspersed with pincushions and stray needles waiting to be threaded.

The studio itself is small, humble in its nature. Set aside on a small street within the city walls it wasn’t a far walk from your shared home, making it an easy decision to join him on the nights he decided to work.

Lush velvet draperies hang heavily across several leaded windows, while multicolored rugs layered themselves over the floor. Fat pillars of candle wax sit haphazardly upon several surfaces, filling the room with moving pockets of light, their dance helped along by the light summer breeze blowing through the open windows. It was undeniably one of your favorite places to be.

Despite Astarion’s initial claims to the contrary (if you could even call his half-hearted condescension to the concept such a thing), he was decidedly well suited for a life of domesticity. Much like a spoiled cat, he very much enjoyed his luxuries. Vials of scented oils, a soft bed covered with blankets and quilts, piles of books in the corners of rooms waiting to be read at his decision. You were very quick to learn that Astarion was nothing if not a creature of comfort. And he made it so very easy to spoil him, accepting your love and affection with open arms.

You nestle deeper into the nest of pillows that made up the corner you had decided to call your own, novel discarded beside you and your goblet of wine long emptied of its contents resting against the floorboards. With a small huff your attention turns from your surroundings to said owner of the studio, watching him weave the needle in and out of the fabric in his hands, focus intent on his art.

He had such beautiful hands, you couldn’t help but think. Hands as well-versed in sowing chaos as easily as they could thread a needle to create the tiniest of embellishments upon a single piece of silk. Hands as intimately versed in the art of death as they were in the art of drawing pleasure. Sometimes, you think, he is secretly desperate to prove that his hands no longer have to steal, cheat, or seduce for others and instead were capable to creating something soft and vulnerable for himself instead.

With a small stretch you sit yourself upright, adjusting the lovingly embroidered straps of the light linen dress you wore to compensate for the overbearing warmth of summer. You were always content to accept any creation Astarion made for you and your dress was no exception, tailored to perfection to sit on your curves perfectly with small decorations of lace and embroidery as he saw fit.

As though drawn by your thoughts, his carmine gaze glances up to meet your own. Astarion’s eyes linger upon your form as you slowly stand and stretch your arms high above your head, back arching slightly with the motion before you step to the nearest open window. A light breeze ruffles your hair as you rest your elbows on the sill, careful of the several plants currently residing there as your eyes move to watch the people below weave through the streets in the darkness.

“Dearest, do you mind lending me those ever-so-lovely eyes of yours for a moment?” His voice is a casual drawl. “I wish to seek your opinion on this particular color scheme.” 

You turn to face him from your spot at the window as he gestures to the work in his hand with a small movement of his wrist, and quickly step across the floor to stop at his side. You glance down to see the wooden embroidery hoop he holds with measured regard in one hand, the other carefully grasping a small, sharp needle. You lean in slightly to see better, your breasts adding the barest of pressure against his arm.

You focus your vision upon the delicate pattern of his needlework, the threads weaving together to create an intricate pattern of scrolling vines and abundant spring blossoms in a warm milky white adorning the collar of a cream colored linen shirt, the colors almost ethereal together in their similarity. 

“I hate to break this to you, but…I do believe it is simply cream upon cream,” you say with a small smile gracing your lips. “What ever is there for me to even give my opinion on?” 

“It’s called monochrome, my dear.” Astarion gives you a look of affectionate exasperation before continuing, “Despite what everyone seems to think, I am capable of subtlety when the occasion permits.” You briefly turn to look at him, an elegant eyebrow arching in amusement. 

He rolls his eyes and scoffs slightly before murmuring, “Certainly those pretty eyes of yours can see the differences despite the similarity of color?”

Sure enough, upon further inspection you could pick out the slightest hint of metallic gold threaded throughout the creamy colored delicate flowers and surrounding vines, the only detail differentiating the colors from one another. The subtle shine of the golden threads were mesmerizing to follow with your eyes, the candlelight bouncing off of them creating fiery highlights on the raised embroidery. Like everything Astarion touched, it was undeniably beautiful.

“I suppose it looks decent.” You tease, pressing your chest further into his arm while your attention shifts to the elegant planes of his face. He was simply so easy to admire, the way his hair always seemed to fall so perfectly into place, his mouth held soft in concentration looked so inviting.

A noise of protest leaves his lips at the mere thought his creation was only ‘decent’, and you can’t help but laugh at the reaction while leaning in to press a soft kiss to his pale cheek.

“It must be so hard to have such artistic merit, Astarion. I’m afraid such a talentless individual as myself can’t fully appreciate such craft and workmanship.” You playfully lean your body back and throw a hand up your forehead in mock distress, earning a short laugh from him. 

“Despite such questionable opinions, you are far my talentless, my dear.” Astarion sets aside the hoop and needle to the far edge of the worktable and turns in his chair, settling his full attention on you.

“In fact, I would be more than willing to remind you of the several of the talents you possess.”

Slowly, he draws his eyes from your features to glance down at the twin pinprick scars decorating your neck before slowly continuing lower to finally rest on a spot above your breasts. He brings his fingertips to brush lightly against the skin, pressing against the delicate lace trim of the neckline, sweeping slowly and softly back and forth against the swells. He watches the sudden intake of your breath with interest before his eyes glide up to meet your own again. 

A slow, feline smile graces his lips. “Such a distraction, dearest. Especially when you press these lovely breasts of yours into me.” 

You match his smile with a sly one of your own.

“Can you blame me?” You give a half-hearted shrug, hardly caring that you had been caught in your so-called crime. “It’s quite hard to not want to be close to such a beautiful individual like yourself.”

“Ah yes, there it is. Talent number one: flattery.” 

He moves the hand tracing patterns against your skin upward, glancing touches against your neck, before curling his fingers underneath your chin to bring your face closer to his own. 

You knew he could easily see the effects of his relatively innocent ministrations, could view the inevitable pink beginning to decorate your cheeks. 

Could smell it in the blood beginning to race through your veins. 

Astarion had always known exactly what to say made you breathless and had never held back on using that knowledge to his advantage to make you weak to his whims. 

“Now be a good girl and take a seat.” His voice is low, hungry; he leans forward and both his hands find your waist and pull. 

You feel your body relax easily into his touch, letting him smooth your skirts out of the way as he brings you towards his waiting lap. Your hips instantly connect together, fabric the only barrier between you. You feel a telltale twitch beneath you, signaling his pleasure at the slight friction created by the connection and your hips grind against his own instinctually, the friction and pressure adding to the growing warmth deep in your belly. 

Astarion leans forward, connecting his mouth with your own in a scalding kiss, moaning into your mouth as his hips roll against your own, his growing erection pressing closer to your covered center. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself even closer to him as your hands card through the silver curls sitting at the back of his neck. Opening your mouth, you lick against his lips hoping he will open them for you. Astarion obliges, meeting your tongue halfway. 

Your tongue brushes against a sensitive fang, drawing another moan out of him and he slowly pulls away from the kiss, lightly nipping at your bottom lip as he leaves before moving to press small, sweet kisses across your jaw. 

“Would you indulge me a snack, dearest?” He presses a quick kiss followed by a small lick to the skin behind your ear, sending a shiver of pleasure down your skin.

“I suppose I could be convinced…” Breathy sighs fall from your lips as he peppers kisses down the elegant column of your neck. “Quite easily perhaps, too.”

“Will you give me a small taste, my dear?” he mouths the words against your skin, lips hot.

Your eyes fall closed at his kisses. “You know you don’t even have to ask to have my blood. I give it to you, freely, and I always will.” With a tilt of your head you grant him more access to continue his search.

“I don’t deserve you.” “Absolutely false. You deserve everything.” The words roll off your tongue with quick ease, certain you’ve never spoken truer words.

As Astarion moves the straps of your dress aside to hang off your shoulders and free the expanse of your neck and collar he finds the spot he had been looking for, laving the area with his tongue briefly before he bites down.

A split second of burning heat as his fangs dig into the flesh of your neck with as much delicacy as he can manage before he finally begins to suck, the pull of the blood leaving your body as he drinks brings a decidedly indecent moan to your lips, the heat of your core growing wetter with every draw of his mouth.

As Astarion drinks in your lifeblood in slow gulps, you feel his hands moving to the neckline of your dress and he grabs at it, pulling the fabric down across your chest, exposing more and more of you with every pull of the fabric. You had forgone a corset today in an attempt at comfort in an unending battle against humidity, trusting the bodice of your dress to instead keep your (somewhat questionable) modesty in tact. 

The rush of cold air combined with the sudden brush of his chilled hands against your breasts as he lets the dress fall to hang freely around your waist draws a surprised gasp from your lips. You move your arms out of the straps before burying them again in his silver locks.

He quickly brings a free hand up to grasp a breast, brushing his thumb over a newly hardened nipple. Extricating his fangs from your neck, his tongue moves to lick up the blood tracing down from the wound, not letting a single drop go to waste.  

“Such a delightful little treat,” he murmurs against your skin, lips brushing with every movement as your hips grind downward against his growing erection in slow rolls. 

His lips move further down your chest, no longer following the trail of fresh blood but that of the blood in your veins leading to your heart. 

Astarion presses a chaste kiss over the place where your heart beats, your back arching with the movement of his lips as he moves lower to capture a hardened peak. A soft cry at the touch of his mouth falls from your lips, the motion of his tongue drawing circles around the bud sending a flash of heat straight to your core. 

He laves at the bud, alternating licks and soft bites in a bid to stoke the fire inside you even higher, his free hand coming up to massage its twin with delicate motions.

Astarion cants his hips up into yours as he sucks hard at your breast, his prominent erection pressing into your growing wetness before his mouth moves to your other breast, continuing his ministrations.

“Astarion, please, I need more.” You whine, attempting to press harder against his erection in hopes the touch will grant a reprieve from the building heat between your thighs.

“As you wish, my love.” He grants your request with a whisper, his hands falling on your thighs to support you as he moves to stand, bringing you with him. Chair pushing back with the movement, he places you on the desk in front of him as his hips spread your thighs. 

Desperate to keep the connection between the two of your bodies, Astarion stands between your legs, pressing close. His hands skate up your body to land on your cheeks, tilting your face to look up at his own as a thumb brushes absentmindedly against your bottom lip. He leans down to press his lips to your forehead, your eyes, cheeks, nose, and finally your lips. 

“Lay back, love,” His words are a whisper as one hand makes it way from your cheek to rest on the back of your head. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

His eyes never leave your own as your body relaxes, trusting him, and he leans you back onto the tabletop with care until your body meets the wood. 

Barely breathing, you watch as his hands made their way teasingly downwards, skating over your bared breasts to find the skirt of your dress, moving to push the thin fabric tantalizingly up your thighs to settle around your waist and out of the way. Astarion’s eyes settle upon a tiny, lacy pair of panties, the fabric the only thing keeping you from being completely bared to him. 

“You’re just utterly shameless, aren’t you?’ He tsks, “Seducing me away from my work like this.” Astarion’s eyes rove your form laying beneath him in reverence, the silken strands of your hair spread like a halo around your face and your dress a mess around your waist.

He was so beautiful it made your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

With bated breath, you raise a hand to draw your fingers softly over his cheek, capturing his attention. 

“Promise me that you will tell me if this gets to be too much for you,” Your eyes meet his as you watch his expression fill with sudden affection at your request. 

“What a sweet thing you are,” Astarion brings a hand to cover the one you had placed over his cheek. “Thank you for always taking care of me so.” With a small movement, he turns his head to bring his lips to press against your palm. 

“I promise you that anything and everything I do with you is my choice.” Astarion moves the hand that covers yours to flit down your body, teasing touches over your peaked nipples, down your belly, before brushing against the line of your underwear. A sudden intake of breath escapes your lungs as he watches your stomach jump with the touch. 

A smirk graces his face as he moves those same fingers lower, brushing lightly against the gusset of your underwear before pressing harder against the growing damp of the lace. His touch creates a sweet friction, your wetness mixed with the texture of the lace and the pressure of his fingers drawing a soft moan from you.

You whine as his fingers pull your underwear to the side, Astarion moving to slide his fingertips up and down your exposed slit, spreading your wetness. He makes teasing passes around the small pearl that rests above; close but never quite touching where you need him, your arousal aiding the smooth glide of his motions.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet for me, darling?”

“You know I always aim to please.”  The words are hard won but you manage to  give him a haughty smile nonetheless, trying to maintain the last shred of willpower you have left to pretend to be unaffected.

He moves to pump a finger shallowly inside you, not nearly deep enough to provide any relief. You gasp at feeling, attempting to roll your hips in hopes to bring his finger deeper. But just as quickly as he enters he leaves, eliciting a noise of frustration from you.

“Patience, patience.” He tuts, hands moving to your hips to tug at the lace resting over them. He yanks at the fabric, and you raise you bottom to aid him in finally removing them. Astarion pockets the pair with a smug look as his hands move to spread your thighs further apart.

With every push of your thighs Astarion bares you to him, your arousal glistening against your center in the low light.

“You know, dearest, I think I would maybe like to have a taste of something else as well.” You feel your cunt clench at the prospect, adding to the building heat deep inside you. 

“Consider me at your mercy, then.” A smirk from him at your blessing as he slowly lowers himself to his knees before your spread legs.

Astarion is supplicant before you as he rests his head on your upper thigh, unfairly close to where you want him most. Your hips jump in anticipation as he begins pressing tantalizingly soft kisses into the crease where your hip meets your thigh.

You feel his fingers touch you finally, delicately spreading your folds as he watches your most intimate place open for him. His thumb comes to rest against your clit, rubbing lightly at the small bud and you release a contented hum at the warmth of the pleasure inside your body growing with the movement of his fingers.

Your eyes fall shut at the sheer relief of his attention, his expertise in knowing exactly how and where to touch to drive you wild drawing a moan from you. Your hand falls from its place in his hair to land beside your head, jostling errant sewing supplies from their resting place next to you.

“Careful, darling. Watch those lovely hands of yours to not catch on a needle. I would so hate for you to bleed so needlessly.” A roguish smile alights his lips as he lowers his mouth to lick a slow stripe up your center, intent to collect as much of your wetness on his tongue as he can.

Your hand immediately finds its way back to his hair, gripping his silver curls mindlessly as he begins to work his tongue up and down your center, tracing patterns against your sex as he goes.

His tongue moves to finally circle your clit with small movements, intent to drive your pleasure higher and higher with every pass. His mouth moves lower, licking across your folds as he finds your entrance, tracing around it with agonizingly slow motions.

Astarion is quick to move a hand to rest over your belly as your hips jut up, applying soft pressure as he grows bold in his motions and his tongue moves to push inside of you. Your grip on his curls grows harder with every thrust of his tongue inside your body, head thrown back and moans growing louder as he brings you closer and closer to completion.

The hand resting on your stomach moves to press lightly at your clit, once again resuming the small circles round and around as his tongue continues its exploration deep in your core, eating you out with fervor. 

Astarion continues to lave inside you, his soft tongue whorling against your walls as his fingers expertly work your clit in tandem with your cries as your hips ride his face, thighs shaking as your orgasm barrels towards you. 

And it’s just like that when you cry out and finally come, his tongue moving deep inside as his finger strums your clit with practiced motions and the feeling is white-hot as you plunge into your ecstasy. He licks up your come greedily, tongue never stopping its endeavor as you ride the wave of your orgasm, breathy cries leaving your lips and hips rolling until your body finally relaxes. 

Shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, your hand falls from Astarion’s hair to rest over your eyes as your breathing begins to even out and you finally come down from the high, Astarion cleaning up your cum until you can take it no longer, hips jerking in overstimulation away from his mouth.

Astarion places a light kiss over your clit before raising up from his knees back to his full height, your slick glistening on his chin and lips in the light of the candles as his still clothed cock brushes against your empty center.

Astarion leans forward, arms caging your head as he leans down to nuzzle your cheek whispering ardent words, “Out of all the beautiful things in this room, you are by far the most gorgeous.”

His admission momentarily stuns you. Astarion had never been shy in his admirations of your beauty and while you had grown more used to them during your time together he still managed to catch you off guard with such compliments from time to time.

“Can I please touch you? Taste you?” You pant, desperation coloring your words in the wake of his earlier admission as you begin to push yourself up onto your elbows. Astarion’s hand comes down and gently presses on your chest instead, and you lower yourself back down at the gentle command in the gleaming red of his eyes. 

“You can put that clever mouth of yours to use later, my dear. I have other plans for you, I think.” His eye rove your features before pressing his mouth upon yours in a fevered kiss, his tongue licking against your lips asking for entry. You can taste the essence of yourself on his lips and groan at the taste, opening yours to tangle his tongue with your own.

Astarion deepens the kiss as his hands find your own and grasping them gently, he brings them down his body to rest upon his still-clothed cock. 

“You said you wanted to touch. Indulge me, lover.” His lips never leave your own as he speaks the words, tongue sneaking out to lick at your bottom lip.

Your hands spring to action immediately to palm his cock through his leather pants before you find the laces holding him and undo them with deft fingers familiar with the task.

Astarion’s thick cock springs free of the confines of the pants and your fingers find the beads of precum decorating the tip and spread the wetness down his length. your fingers glide from top to bottom in smooth motions over the veined velvet of him, his essence aiding your ministrations as his mouth falls open from the sheer indulgence of your touch. His head falls heavily onto your shoulder and his lips move over the spot he fed from earlier, kissing and licking the area as your hands work him closer to closer to the edge. 

Lifting a hand from him you bring your fingers to your own wetness, drawing your fingertips through your slick before pumping two of them inside yourself in an imitation of his own motions earlier as you moan at the feeling.

Astarion glances down to see your fingers buried in your own cunt, the sight making him go impossibly harder as he watches you briefly pleasure the both of you. With a whine, your fingers leave your body to return to Astarion, a mixture of your arousal and come coating your fingers as your spread it onto his waiting cock, increasing your rhythm to rub him faster.

“Gods Above, you really are something else.” His pupils are blown out in lust as he groans at both the sight and feel of your hands working his shaft, one hand massaging the crown of his cock while the other works him closer to the base in quick motions.

A wicked thought strikes your mind, and you almost feel badly for even entertaining the idea. Almost.

You can feel his breath fanning your neck with every pass of your hands, his moans growing more unrestrained as your ministrations draw him to edge of completion. Without warning you withdraw your hands from his weeping cock, cruelly denying him the climax he was so close to.

Astarion’s head flies up from where it rests on your shoulder as a noise of disbelief leaves his lips and he shoots you a look of pure shock. The knowledge you caught him so unaware has you riding another kind of high, one you rarely had the privilege of reveling in.

“You little minx! Who knew you were capable of such cruelty. You’re going to pay for that, you know.”

Mischief settles on your features. “Maybe that was the goal.”

“Ask and you shall receive, little love. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His lips curve with a devilish grin, eyes glinting in the candlelight as his hands move to grip your waist, fingertips pressing hard into the soft skin.

“How should I make you pay for it, then?” He muses. “Should I shove my cock into that tight, sweet cunt of yours and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to stand? Or maybe I should make good use of that wicked little mouth of yours and fill it instead?”

His darkening eyes bore into your own, your cheeks heating at his suggestions as you shift under his contemplation.

“You do look quite beautiful like that, you know. Mouth stretched around me as I fuck your throat. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You give an enthusiastic nod at the prospect, excited for whatever punishment he deems appropriate to hand out.

Without warning, you feel the hands upon your waist move to lift you up and flip you over, your stomach making contact with the table as your bare breasts press tight against the wood grain. His hand comes to rest in the center of your back, pushing you further into the surface. You move your head to rest your cheek upon the table, the coolness of the wood a welcome sensation to the quickly rebuilding heat inside you as your eyes glance up to meet his own in curiosity. 

“Too bad. I have another idea instead.” His voice is deep with promise.

Such trouble you had gotten yourself into, it seems. 

Cool hands move from your back to the forgotten skirt of your dress to flip it upward to rest around your waist once more, exposing your ass and glistening center to the warm air. 

Astarion brings his hand down hard against one of your cheeks, the sharpness of the spank making you cry out as surprise and pleasure mingle into one. He rubs the growing red mark left on your skin before bending down to press a his lips to it, soothing the area with barely-there kisses. 

He brings both hands to your ass now, rubbing soothing circles over the area before moving to pull your rear cheeks apart, allowing Astarion to see absolutely everything.

A wave of embarrassment hits you to be put on such display for his vision despite his knowledge of your body, and you fidget slightly under his intent gaze of your most intimate areas. 

“Astarion…” you let out a moan and he is quick to shush you as he moves a hand off your asscheek to brush his thumb in light circles over your asshole. 

“Maybe I should take you here instead, I know how much you love when I play with your pretty ass.” His voice is deep, eyes impossibly dark. 

“Oh fuck,” His words draw a ragged moan from your lips at the mere thought, setting your neglected pussy on fire with need.

“Prove to me you can be a good girl.” His thumb applies soft pressure before it leaves you to be replaced by his lips. He presses a soft kiss to the tight hole before kissing downwards and licking deep into your cunt without warning, lapping at your waiting wetness.

“Gods, Astarion…” your hips press backwards towards his waiting mouth. “Whatever you want, wherever you want, my love. I’ll do anything. I just want you inside of me.” Your voice is hoarse with need, no longer caring to win this little game you had started.

You feel Astarion’s mouth leave your pussy and whine at the loss, but he is quick replace your empty cunt with two of his elegant fingers instead, sliding them in and out at slow, measured pace. 

“Do you think I should let you come one more time before I fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk properly?” You are helpless to do anything other than nod your head in insistence, hoping he won’t rob you of your orgasm the way you had done to him. “I don’t know if you deserve it yet.”

Astarion slowly pulls his fingers out of your body only to add a third finger on the plunge back in, drawing a cry from your lips at the sudden fullness. 

His fingers push deep and curl inside of you pressing against that special spot over and over again, driving you to new heights as the lightest veil of tears begins to dust your lashes at the sheer bliss of the feeling.

Noticing the tears, you feel Astarion immediately stop his ministrations and lean over your back to look into your eyes with concern, a noise of protest at the lack of motion falls from your mouth as his fingers slowly leave your body to rest on your hip, brushing calming circles on your skin.

“Is this too much, love?” Any trace of his teasing dominance is gone from his voice as he speaks the words to you clearly, looking intently for any indication you needed him to step back from the scene the two of you had created. “We can stop, darling, if you need to. I don’t want you to push yourself too far to please me.”

You smile at genuine concern evident on his face, blinking away the sheen of tears. 

Pushing your hips back into him with as much motion as you can manage in your prone position against the table, you lean your body up in hopes to press a kiss to his lips. Astarion leans in, mouth quick to meet you halfway in a kiss as his spare hand moves to cup your cheek.

“The only thing you are pushing is my patience, love. Please don’t stop.” You beg, hoping he will acquiesce to your desire to continue as you lower your body back down onto the table. “The only thing I want in this moment is to come so hard I can’t think straight and then to have that beautiful cock of yours inside of me in whatever way you wish to give it to me.”

“Insatiable. Who taught you such language?” His body follows yours down, back pressing against your own as his lips brush against yours as he speaks the words, the concern leaving his eyes replaced with mounting desire.

“Believe me, there is nothing I want more than to be buried deep inside you,” The hand on your hip makes its way back towards your center. “Make me the same promise I made you earlier.”

The words come to your mouth effortlessly.

“I promise you that anything and everything I do with you is my choice.” You recite the words softly, with ease. 

Quieter now, you whisper. “I trust you, Astarion.”

You know how much your words and trust mean to him, can see it in his unguarded expression. Astarion didn’t put much trust in the Gods, but he would never stop thanking whichever one it was that brought your paths together. His fingers gently graze your pussy, ringing around your entrance with soft, teasing touches.

“I love you.” Astarion says before pressing his lips firmly to your own, those same three fingers finally slipping back inside.

Astarion renews the pace of his fingers right away, pressing and curling with precise motions meant to bring you to the brink.

You give into the sensation of every movement of his fingers, mouth open and eyes falling shut at the feeling and it’s not long before he has you once again close to your orgasm. 

“Please, don’t stop,” you whimper as your thighs begin to shake.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Astarion brings his other hand down your body to brush lightly against your clit. He sounds as lost in desire as you feel. “Want to feel you come on my hand. Can you do that for me, sweet thing?”

His words have you clenching hard on his fingers, the pressure of them against your insides combined with the fingers of his other hand brushing light, concentric circles over your clit have you coming within moments of his request.

“Such a good girl to give me what I want so easily.” You barely hear the words that fall from his lips through the haze of your ongoing orgasm, the feeling of his breath on the skin of your ear serving to only enhancing the moment.

Your body spasms around his fingers and cries of ecstasy fall from your lips as he continues, working you through your orgasm while his lips press soothing kisses anywhere his lips can reach—your face, your neck, the tip of your ear. 

“That’s it. You always look so beautiful when you come for me.”

Slowly, finally you feel your body begin to relax through the haze of your orgasm. Your mind comes back to you and you release a small laugh as your breath starts to even out, feeling him leave your body. Without breaking eye contact, he brings the fingers that had filled you so deeply to his mouth and licks them clean. The sight of it sends a wave of heat right back to your cunt, a shudder of anticipation running through you.

“I think you already succeeded in your wish to make me unable to stand.” You pant.

“And to think I haven’t even fucked you yet.” His cock is hard as his eyes scan your form from the flesh of your core to the flush of your cheeks, your eyes glassy with a haze of lust.

“I think I want to fuck you just like this.” He whispers into your ear as his hands run soothingly over your back. “I like you this, on display as you wait for me.” You desperately attempt to push your hips back to brush against his uncovered cock, looking for any bit of friction.

You watch him from your place on the table, the lithe way his body moves as he takes off his luxurious silk shirt to expose his chest.

His beauty was almost otherworldly as the dancing candlelight illuminates the carved marble of his skin, light and shadow creating a moving chiaroscuro upon the planes of his body.

He looked like a god.

“You are so beautiful.” Your words are a mere whisper as he moves his thick cock to finally brush against your center, slicking himself in your spend as the tip catches against your clit, drawing twin moans from you both.

Grabbing your hips, Astarion positions himself at your entrance and begins to slowly push inside, so familiar with your body he barely needs to guide his cock.

His head drops to press a kiss to your shoulder before righting himself again, hissing in pleasure at the feeling of your walls closing around him as he slides in, your wetness aiding him as he bottoms out and his hips press hard against your own. 

Low moans escape you at the sheer feeling of his cock stretching and sliding home and your hands move grasp for purchase on the desk as he slowly begins to rock back and forth. 

“If only you could see yourself now,” His voice is deep as he watches himself pull his cock out of your body almost completely, only the head left resting shallowly inside you before pushing forward with a hard thrust, hitting a place so deep you let out a ragged cry at the feeling.

“Gods, Astarion, just like that.” He fucks you hard, the force of his thrusts pushing you back and forth with small motions, breasts pressing hard against the wood of the table as one of your hands finds his own still holding your hips. You grab at his wrist in hopes he will take it, needing to touch more of him. Sensing your need Astarion takes your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss on the back of it before resting your joined hands on your lower back. 

“No one takes my cock like you,” He pants through his thrusting. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” 

Supplications fall from his lips as he moves in and out of your body, showering you with worship as if you were his own private deity. His words further kindle the rising flame inside your belly, every touch of his cock against your walls serving to push you closer and closer to your third orgasm. 

“Only you,” you pant, hips canting back into his own to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “No one else.”

You feel so incredibly full with your body positioned like this, every movement of his cock has him pressing hard against your sweet spot, the feeling like heaven as cries fall from your lips.

“I love how wet you get for me, darling,” Astarion can feel you tighten around him as you grow nearer to your orgasm, your body trembling and cunt pulsing with pleasure as your hips drive back into his own. The feeling of you so close to your orgasm has hips losing their rhythm, his eagerness at the two of you reaching your end together driving him to move harder with every press inside you.

You love seeing him, feeling him like this. His hips finally moving with wild abandon, chasing pure instinct as he moves fast and deep inside your body. A hand comes up to settle in your unbound hair, softly gripping the silk-like strands in his fingers and in his passion he pulls softly, the motion lifting your head. His lips lower to your ear as his back presses fully against your own, the feeling of his cock moving even deeper inside you unmatched. Between his chest against your back and his cock moving so deep he was practically rutting inside, you were almost certain your cunt had never felt so full. Breathless whimpers escape your mouth at the feeling, eyes closing in complete ecstasy as the sound of his own moans against your ear leaves your cunt clenching hard as he hits your g-spot over and over again with each deep thrust.

“Beg for it. Beg for me to let you cum.”

And beg you do.

“Please, Astarion!” A chorus of pleas rise from your throat voicing your desperation as his tongue licks the shell of your ear, the hand in your hair tightening slightly with every word and moan that falls from your lips. 

You can barely think as you feel your orgasm careen towards you, unintelligible in your words as you lose yourself in the feeling of your bodies. Astarion’s cock hits that deep inside spot at your front wall once more, and you finally let go, orgasm taking over your body, stars behind your eyes in all-consuming pleasure. You recognize Astarion nearing his own end, his hips rutting into yours as you ride out your orgasm on his cock, cunt squeezing him in a vice. He comes with a drawn-out moan as he paints your insides with his cum, hips shuttering until his thrusts slow down.

Astarion stays inside you, cock softening as he rubs his hands up and down your sides as you both come down from your high, his cold cheek pressed against your shoulder. With deep breaths you take air so heavy and sweet with your shared lust into your lungs, the weight of Astarion on your back an anchor to the world.

With one final pump Astarion pulls himself from your body, watching as your empty cunt weeps with a mixture of his and your own cum. Before he can stop himself, he reaches two fingers up to catch the cum on his fingertips, gently pushing it back inside you before it can fall out onto the table resting below your hips. 

“Wouldn’t want you to waste a single drop, my love.”

You whine and buck your hips, overstimulated after coming so many times in a row. With one last press of his fingers, he leaves your cunt, leaning forward to place a kiss on the small of your back.

Astarion grabs a discarded piece of silk off the table beside your head and he gently wipes at the mess that threatens to leave your body before cleaning his own spent cock. As your breathing returns to its normal pace, you push yourself up slightly. 

“Silk. Really, Astarion?”

“Only the best for you, my love.” Astarion is quick to help you off the table, steadying you as you sway slightly after being in the same position for so long. He presses a kiss to your lips as he helps pull your dress back up over your breasts and into place. 

“I would ask if I was too rough, but I know you better than that.” His remark makes you laugh as you lean into him, throwing your arms around his neck with a wide smile.

“You know, I think I’m missing a tiny piece of my clothing,” Your eyebrows raise as you gesture to his pocket where a tiny piece of darkened lace sticks out from. "You wouldn’t happen to know where it is, would you?”

“Why bother?” Astarion gives a casual shrug as he waves off your query. “I’m just going to take them off of you again when we get home.” 

He stuffs the underwear in question deeper into his pocket, patting it securely before flashing you a crafty smile.

“After all, I haven’t even had my dinner yet.” He leans in, setting your heart aflame with a passionate kiss before grabbing your hand to lead you out the door and into the waiting night.

[after-witch]

Biological Function [Yandere Knives x Reader]

Title: Biological Function [Yandere Knives x Reader]

Synopsis: You get your period. At least it means you're getting enough to get. Trigun Maximum-verse.

Word count: 2082

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, reader gets their period, mentions of starvation and murder

The red smear on your underwear that greets you in the morning, a wisp of deep red against the simple white linen, is not entirely an unwelcome sight.

After all, on Gunsmoke, menstruation means that you’re actually getting enough food to eat. It wasn’t uncommon for women to skip periods or see them come and go so half-heartedly that they might as well have never been there. Deprivation does awful things to the body, and you--like most--had your fair share of it. 

Yet here it was now, in all its horrible glory. A sign that you were healthy enough to bleed, a sign that your body was functioning, a sign that you were functioning. 

Physically, at least. It seems your body did not account for the fact that you were only getting enough food to eat because of the inhuman being keeping you captive.

Being, yes, that’s what he was. Not a man, not a human; and if you ever said so, he might just kill you for it.

Should you tell him about this? The thought made you feel sick, on top of the low cramps aching in your guts. You didn’t tell him anything unless he asked--he rarely did--and even then, it wasn’t like you told him anything important. Anything personal. 

The redness in your underwear was definitely personal. It was your body, wasn’t it? You should be allowed to keep something to yourself, if you couldn’t have your freedom. 

The thought comes, unbidden: did your mother ever tell your father about her monthlies?

Perhaps he knew when she withdrew from him in bed. Your memories of them both are fuzzy, vague; he drank himself sick one night and never came home from the bar (a fight, your mother said, that ended with a gunshot) and she wasted away some years later from a disease no one bothered to diagnose.

You couldn’t afford a proper doctor, even if one might have helped, and the local woman called upon when people had fevers simply tsked and gave her something to sleep away the pain. 

But on the subject of periods, your mother hadn’t spoken much outside of that first frenzied conversation when you’d told her that something was wrong with you, you were bleeding, you were dying, you were--

And her eyebrows had raised and then a slow, dimpled smile had crossed her lips, and she pulled you aside for a conversation about how you were a woman now and what to do and how to ease the pain and how you must never ever let a man touch you unless he was your husband.

She didn’t say if that husband would share in the knowledge of this red secret between your thighs.

Not that Knives was your husband. Perish the thought. Or that he’d ever touched you like one, or touched you at all. Except when you were thrown over his shoulder like a sack of coveted flour or on the rare occasions that he gripped your wrist with an unrelenting strength and dragged you somewhere. 

He would probably find menstruation disgusting. He found anything human disgusting. It would be a sign of your base nature, or something as ridiculous as that. The thought of dealing with more insults made you want to curl up--perhaps that was the cramps, too--and so, yes. You would keep it a secret from him, then. For as long as you could, however you could. 

But you didn’t have much privacy, here or anywhere that he took you. The airships, the bases, the abandoned houses. Sometimes, they had to be emptied of any occupants first--it was worse, when they had to be emptied. 

Mornings are the exception, which is why it is an unwelcome surprise when Knives saunters into the sparse space serving as your bedroom, eyebrows furrowed, no doubt some command on his lips--

Only to spot you staring down at your underwear, nightgown hawked up above your thighs. Your eyes meet for a fraction before you yank the underwear up and shove your gown down, but it’s too late. He’s seen you--he’s seen the red mess--and something awful and static seems to hover between you.

A moment or two or three. Your fingers clench into the fabric of your night dress. Humiliation burns but dread burns hotter, and it’s dread that makes you tremble. 

“Clean yourself up,” he says, finally, with an air of quiet, low disdain.

He pivots, whatever he had come to say earlier forgotten or unimportant, and leaves the room.

The cramps in your stomach feel hollow. It could have gone worse. It could have gone better--if he hadn’t come in at all--but there’s no fixing it now.

Clean yourself up.

A command to be obeyed, but how? 

Easy enough to head into the bathroom and wash up for the moment. (Access to clean running water, to hot showers and baths, is another benefit of your captive life.) But afterwards? 

You don’t suppose he has any sanitary napkins on hand--or one of those complicated contraptions your mother wore now and then, with a belt to hold everything in place. It’s not something you’ll be asking him about. If you must--if the bleeding continues every month, well-fed captive that you are--you’ll ask the doctor that Knives has at his beck and call.  

For now, you’ll have to settle for finding some rags to stuff into your underwear and hope for the best.

--

Knives does not typically sit down for meals. Certainly not with you, although you sometimes wonder if he and the doctor drink wine and discuss the doctor’s findings together.

Yet here he is, sitting at the table in this abandoned house, drinking a glass of water and actually eating the simple meal the doctor prepared that afternoon. Some kind of meat, vegetables, grains, all mixed together for a fortifying meal that you might have eaten up heartily yesterday. 

But today it makes you feel sick. The smell, maybe, or just the fact that your insides felt like they were rearranging themselves in the most awful way.

Nausea claws its way up your throat, and you set the fork down. Another bite would be impossible.

“Finish your meal.” Knives speaks to you for the first time since this morning. It is no more pleasant than his earlier clipped command, and no less authoritative. 

Your hands instinctively pick up the fork--obedience has been drilled into you--but your stomach rebels. 

“I can’t,” you say, clearing your throat. “My stomach hurts.” 

No flicker of sympathy or understanding in his face, but it doesn’t surprise you. He had no sympathy for the countless people he’s killed, or had killed with a simple word, so why should something as miniscule as your stomach pains bother him? 

"Be grateful,” he says, low, “that you have something to eat at all.” 

“I am grateful,” you spit, and it’s the truth, however bitterly said. You hate being here, you hate him, but it’s been so long since you’ve been hungry that the memories of half-starvation are simply that--memories. The body appreciates what the mind doesn’t, at least. 

His eyebrows raise a bit at that and you regret speaking at all. A little too much honesty, from your end. You don’t want him to know that your mind sometimes fights over enjoying the comforts of your captivity. Food, water, knowing that bandits won’t come in the night to plunder, knowing you won’t wind up in some shootout at your lunch break at the bar. 

If only it didn’t take being the restricted--pet? Captive? Whatever you are to him--of a plant to get those things. 

But as quick as the moment comes, it’s over, and there’s no insight to be given on how he took your words. His gaze slides away from you, and he gestures his chin at Conrad. “She needs more iron,” he says, simply. “On account of her menstruation.”

You choke on your spit, and Conrad chokes on his meal.

Is it possible to die from embarrassment? 

“Do you have supplements?” Knives asks casually. 

Conrad swallows, clears his throat, and dabs at his mouth with a napkin with a delicate gesture. Before Knives had taken him, he’d been living a comfortable life in some mansion, squirreled away with trinkets and good food. Or so Elendira had told you, and you could never be sure if she was telling you the truth. 

“No,” Conrad says, slowly. “But they aren’t too difficult to come by. We can pick them up in the next city.”

The words come, muttered, without thought.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Knives doesn’t acknowledge it, nor does Conrad. Your part in the conversation is done.

"I'd also like you to monitor her menstrual periods," Knives continues, and if there was a way to sink into the floor, you would do it into a heartbeat. "To make sure they're regular."

Stomach rolling back and forth, you pick up a forkful of food and force it down. 

--

“I’ve had to delay my plans for an entire day.”

Curled up on your bed, a pillow shoved against your aching lower body, you don’t respond. You merely squeeze your eyes shut and will the pain--and Knives--away.

Neither leaves. 

“You’re incredibly inconvenient. A nuisance.”

Yes, yes, yes, I know, and I don’t give a damn. It takes every ounce of self-preservation left in your body not to snap these words at him. Your fingers dig hard into the pillow as another wave of cramps rolls through you. 

Dinner had been hastily shoved down to no avail; it was currently resting in the trash can of the bathroom. You had been on the toilet, willing your awful cramps to disappear, when the nausea came again with such force that you had no choice but to heave it all back up into the bin.

Now, the cramps throb and squeeze and you curl up tighter, but it doesn’t help.

Fuck. Were they always this bad?

They’re awful enough that you make a noise, despite Knives hovering next to your bed, admonishing you like a child for daring to be sick. A whimper, pitiful, low, stupid.

You hear him huff. You expect to hear the sound of him turning around, his boots against the hard floor as he leaves you to your mistery.

Instead--

His hand is on your stomach, slightly cool to the touch, and you jerk, eyes wide and afraid as the words stutter out--

“What are you--”

There’s no time to finish the words before a strange feeling surges through you. Something humming and light, almost like a low tickle. It’s--pleasant. A word you had never associated with Knives before, and certainly not a word you ever expected to associate with his touch. 

“I’m making you less of a burden,” he murmurs, and it’s a wonder venom doesn’t actually drip from his lips. “I won’t be delayed again tomorrow.”

If you were stronger, you might argue back. You might tell him that you’ll delay him as much as you want, that he can go fuck himself.

But you’re not any of those things. You’re bleeding and tired and the awful nausea-inducing cramps that were keeping you bedridden are gone, eased away by that blossoming feeling induced by his fingertips.

Is this what plants could do, when they weren’t trapped in those bulbs? Heal? (And hurt--and kill?) 

Knives’ hand is still resting on your stomach, pressing lightly into the flesh. When you glance up at him, he doesn’t match your gaze. Instead, he stares down at his hand, quiet, clearly thinking. But of what? 

It’s hard to care, now that you don’t feel like your body wants to tear itself apart from the inside. You could sleep, now. Rest easily and wake up ready to take on another day of this strange life you’ve been forced into; it’s enough to make you close your eyes, exhausted, fluttering.

Knives’ fingers remove themselves from your stomach slowly. He doesn’t leave yet. He’s still there, and part of you wants to open your eyes and take a guess at what he’s thinking; to see if he’s staring at you, or through you, or if he’s not even bothering to watch you curled up on the bed. The other part of you is terrified of finding out. 

Just when you might actually open your eyes, you hear him scoff. It’s a surprisingly comforting sound. Familiar territory once again. 

“Ungrateful,” he murmurs. “I should kill you to spare myself this annoyance.”

He could kill you. Easily. In a second. Without mercy or compassion or regret, you think, considering how many have fallen under his orders. 

Instead, he lets you fall asleep without another word.

You don’t hear him walk away before sleep takes you.

[eroselless]

TOA’ LA NOCHE 

Summary: You meet Carlos at a nightclub and spend toda la noche with him [2.1k]

[carlos sainz x reader ]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, Spanish (might be a mix between Spain Spanish and Colombian Spanish, which is what I speak lol)

 If there's any I missed let me know!

note: This was inspired by this TikTok that I’ve been obsessed with recently. I’ve been absolutely obsessed with this man. Also, I’m not very versed in writing smut and I’ve only written it a few times so I apologize in advance if it sounds a little confusing lmao. 

here’s the playlist that I listened to while writing

Your skin is starting to feel sticky as find yourself surrounded by mountains of people, all seemingly moving in unison with you. Sweat seems to be beading at the back of your neck and on your hairline. The sultry voices of Feid and Rauw Alejandro echo in your ears, the bass reverberating in your chest. The lights are bright, creating a halo around you. Your hips sway to the beat as you drunkenly and loosely gyrate them against one of your girlfriends. You're a giggling mess as she wraps her arms around and twirls. You let yourself go and give in to the music. The beat is almost intoxicating as you throw your head back and let out a breath.

You feel your friend tug on a strand of your hair before pointing out a group of guys standing just a few feet from you. They're standing in a half circle, dancing with each other, singing along and pumping their fists into the air. A brown-haired one whispers into another’s ear, almost exactly mirroring the interaction you just had with your friend. Your eyes wander over to the dark-haired man next to him and you feel your breath hitch in your throat at your eyes meet. He stands only slightly taller than the other man. He’s wearing a linen shirt, the buttons only done up halfway, exposing his hard chest. His hair is slightly wet, a sign that he combed his fingers through it far too many times. You feel your cheeks warm up, though you weren't sure they could get any hotter under the light, and you let out a shy smirk. 

There are people separating your two groups but between bodies, Carlos can clearly see as you continue moving against your friend, meeting your eyes in fleeting glances. Your friend lets go of you for a second, but you continue moving on your own, hands going up over your head and eyes closed. He weaves through the crowd and towards you, hands finding home on your hips. You tense up slightly before realizing it's him and relaxing in his arms. You feel his hands wander over your hips, threading his fingers in your belt loops. The song ends and another begins, the tempo slowing. You half expect him to let go and move back to his friends but he stays, moving with you. His head falls to your shoulder and you can feel a smile on his lips as he presses them to your skin. His fingers tighten their hold on you, lips now moving higher on the column of your neck. You let out a squeal as he nips lightly at your ear. He presses his hips hard against your bum, letting out a soft hmm as you find yourself burrowing ever more into his chest. He brings his lips to your ear and just over the music you hear him ask:

“quieres salir de aquí y encontrar un lugar un poco más privado?” (do you wanna get out of here and find a place that’s a little more private?)

You look up at him, nodding as his grip leaves you briefly. You see him yell out to his friends and you signal to yours where you're going and you make your way through the crowd and out the doors of the club. Your hands are intertwined as you make your way to his hotel across the street. Between wet kisses and wandering hands, you manage to catch his name as he mutters it out.  You likewise tell him yours as he’s pulling you through the door and into his room.

He doesn’t give you much time to think, pressing you to the door, lips finding their way back to yours. He licks into your mouth as your hands wander over each other’s skin. The pace is fast and needy as you reach into the front of his pants, undoing his belt and giving his hardening length a squeeze. He moans in your mouth, the sound sending a chill down your back and between your legs. His hands pull your shirt over your head, tossing it behind you. 

He pushes off the door, maneuvering you to the bed, sending you crashing onto the sheets. His arms cage you to the bed as his lips wander over your exposed skin. His fingers pull the lace cups of your bra down, pulling the fabric tight under your breast. His lips latch onto your pebbled nipple, the hand not supporting him above you, going to squeeze at the other. You bite your lip, stifling a moan as it tries to make its way passed your lips. 

“dejame escucharte, gatito.” (let me hear you, kitten) he says as his lips travel even further down your body. He licks down the valley between your breasts, blowing on the skin, goosebumps appearing over the area. You let out a shaky breath as he trails his fingers over your navel and down to your ever-moistening panties. He looks up at you with his honey-coloured eyes as if asking your permission to pull your panties off of you. As soon as you give him the green light, he’s prying them from you, hands dragging down your legs as he does so. 

“ay, mor, no seas asi,” (ay, love, don’t be like that) you say as he bites gently into the fat of your thighs, fingers gripping tightly, making sure you stayed wide open for him. His smile is teasing, eyes hooded with desire as he continues to move around the area where you need him most. His tongue is gentle and soft as it finally slides over your slit, his thick bottom lip following quickly behind. He takes his time tasting you, tongue prodding at your hole. He goes slowly, sensually as he eats like a man starved. He pulls away completely, lips and nose coated in your slick. You whine at the loss of contact. He chuckles, pressing more gently kisses to the inner part of your thigh.

“carlos…” 

“dime.” (tell me.) he says, resting his cheek on your thigh, a smirk on his lips. You let out a whine.

“quiero más,” (i want more.) you beg, voice almost broken and dripping with want. He raises an eyebrow, tongue going over his teeth.

“como qué?” (like what?) he asks, an innocent look painted over his face. You let out a huff and he shakes his head gently.

“tranquilla, amor. yo te dare todo lo que tu quieras.” (it’s ok, love. i’ll give you everything you want.)

His pointer and middle fingers trace over your lips, pulling them apart before pushing them into the pink flesh of your cunt. The air gets caught in your throat as his lips return to your clit, pulling it between his lips. Your hand goes to his silky hair, pulling on it. He let out a soft hum, a dull vibration caressing your sensitive skin. He curls his fingers, almost as if he were reaching for a button deep within you. You feel yourself shatter, your eyes squeezed shut as an orgasm crashes over you. Your chest is heaving as Carlos works you through it, gently scissoring his fingers out of your aching core. 

He pulls away, standing at his full height as he seems to catch his breath as well. His hair is sticking up and messy from your hands and there is a pink hue scattered over his cheeks. He’s smirking as he looks down at you, admiring his dishevelled work of art. He peels off his shirt, dropping it at his feet. You push yourself up, hands going to his unbuckled belt and zipper. 

“no es nada justo que todavía tienes esto puesto,” (it’s not fair at all that you’re still wearing all of this) you say, hands going over his tight abdomen. You let your fingers trace over his v-line, moving to right beneath his navel. You press your lips there, letting your tongue wet his skin. Carlos wraps his hand around your jaw, stopping you from going any further.

“por lo mucho que me gusta verte así, ahorita solo quiero esta dentro de ti.” (as much as i love seeing you like this, right now i just want to be inside you) You let out a quiet ok and lean back on your elbows and watch as he fully undressed his lower half. Your gaze wanders down, widening just slightly as you take all of him in. You can’t help but feel your core wetten at the sight. There’s a dark look in his eyes as he crawls over to you.

For a second it’s as if the world slows down. The sounds of traffic outside fade away and it’s just the two of you, enveloped in one another. His eyes meet yours as he holds himself above you. You can see the freckles littered over his nose and the faint mole on his cheek. You drag a finger over his bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. You lick into each other’s mouths, both letting out a long breath. He lines himself up with your sopping cunt and lets out a whine as he fills you to the hilt.

The stretch is delicious, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your legs are loosely wrapped around his waist. You're a moaning mess underneath Carlos as he starts to gently push in and out of you. Your hands wander over the smooth skin of his shoulders, fingernails digging crescent moon into his flesh. His nose nudges yours as you breathe in each other’s pants. His eyes are glazed over with lust as he loses himself in you. Your scent, the tremble in your voice, the taste of your skin. He falls to his elbows, using one hand to push your left knee up to your chest. It allows him to fuck deeper into you and you feel him bang into your g-spot.  You let out a gasp and he takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth, swallowing your noise.

His breathing is hard, grunting with every thrust, chest heaving with every breath he takes. The sounds of skin colliding and your moans are the only thing you can hear. His whimpers sound like music to your ears as he tucks his face into your neck. You move one of your hands and grip his asscheek, pushing it as close as you could to yourself. 

“joder, me podria perder en esta cosita aqui.” (fuck, I could get lost in this little thing here) he groans out. He pulls out quickly and instructs you to turn around. You get on your hands and knees as he grips your hips from behind. He swiftly pushes into you again, knocking you down to your elbows, ass now high in the air. You let out a cry as his hand rubs over your bundle of nerves. You feel as if you are teetering on the edge of a chasm, only held up by a string that’s ready to break. His growls only grow louder as he continues to pound into you and his pace becomes sloppy.  

“vamos, nena,” (come on baby,) he says into the soft skin of your back. “yo sé que puedes.” (i know you can do it) You let out a cry, letting the string snap and you fall. You feel Carlos pull your arms out and over your head, forcing your face into the soft duvet. He interlaces his finger with yours and holding on tightly he spills into you. After a few seconds, he lets his body weight lay over you, unable to hold himself up any longer. You both hiss as he pulls himself out, revelling in his cum dripping down your thighs. He wraps his hand around you turning you over slowly. He lays behind you as your breaths regain their normal rhythm.

He presses his lips and nose to your back, inhaling the smell of sex and scent on your skin. You let out a giggle as the breeze coming from his lips tickles over your skin. You fiddle with his fingers and slowly turn over to look at him. His skin glistens with sweat but it makes him look more like an oiled-up Greek god as opposed to a man coming down from the highs of sex. 

“fuck, eres extraordinaria, mi amor.” (you are extraordinary, my love)

a/n: oh geez I definitely had too much fun writing this. some of the translations aren’t 100% exact, it just sounds similar and better to me like that lol. let me know what y'all think! comments and reblogs are always welcomed <3

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Sep 12th

~*~

1. In the mood for wangxian fics where:

A) Mo Xuanyu and We Wuxian are siblings/besties or any platonic relationship which makes them very close a la siblings (anything goes except fics set in CQL verse)

B) Dragonji AND dragonxian fics (if smutty then bottomxian AND non cql only)

C) werewolf wangxian (if smutty then bottomxian AND non-cql only)

D) childhood friends to lovers/growing up together/wei wuxian grows up in gusu [any AU/universe] (if smutty then bottomxian AND non cql only)

E) Soulmate AU's where elements like soulmate marks, strings, etc or any other obvious signs of having a soulmate exist (if smutty then bottomxian AND non cql only)

F) wangxian age difference fics...how much or less the age difference is doesnt matter (older lwj, if smutty then bottomxian AND non cql only)

G) what if/no war canonverse AUs (if smutty then bottomxian AND non cql only)

Thank you for all you do Mods!! <3 @stellatosparkle

1A)

what builds a home by Stratisphyre (T, 45k, WangXian, MY & WWX, Canon Divergence, Adopted WWX, POV Multiple, warning for JGS behaving exactly as expected, child endangerment, Brother Feels, Minor Character Death, [Podfic] Cold read of "what builds a home" by Stratisphyre by KeriArentikaiPods (KeriArentikai))

1D)

soft-hearted by sarahyyy (G, 6k, wangxian, alternate universe, childhood friends, hurt/comfort, getting together, first kiss, wedding fluff)

When we were small by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 7k, LXC & LQR & LWJ, LQR & WWX, WangXian, LQR & JFM, Modern, Kid Fic, Good Uncle LQR, Neurodivergent LWJ, Baby LWJ, Baby WWX, Parenthood, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV LQR, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort)

1E)

🔒 Bright the Day We Met by ereshai (G, 1k, WangXian, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, POV Outsider, Fluff, Supportive LXC, Soulmates)

Bleachwhite Linen by MonocerosRex (T, 44k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, JYL & WWX, JC & WWX, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, Modern, Soulmates, not the traditional kind of soulmates exactly, Hospitals, Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Touch-Starved, lwj and wwx are the softest husbands and they aren’t even together yet, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Sibling Bonding, handwaving medical procedure and magical systems, worldbuilding is for chumps i’m here for the sugar, Sickfic, or more like convalescence fic but that isn’t a tag, POV Multiple, Family Feels, Family Fluff, lxc is a troll and he ships wangxian so hard, wwx deserves and gets gets hugs, Sharing a Bed, Hair Washing, Sleepy Cuddles, Hugs, JYL is a queen)

it goes like this by moonsteps (T, 15k, WangXian, College/University, Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Humor, Fluff, Oblivious WWX, in which wwx is jealous… of himself, some drunken LWJ shenanigans, someone pls save JC, two idiots in love)

leading tone by silencemostofall (G, 32k, WangXian, Modern AU, Soulmates, with a lil twist, Eventual Happy Ending, Music, Orchestra, [Podfic] Leading Tone by silencemostofall by Beria1021)

pastel by antebunny (G, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Soulmates, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Self-Esteem Issues, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unrequited Love, but not actually, no courtesy names)

(( 💖 nothing you confess by PorcupineGirl (T, 31k, WangXian, Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, POV Alternating, Golden Core Reveal, Depressed WWX, WWX Has PTSD, JC & LWJ Friendship, friendship may be too strong a word more like allies who are gonna love the shit outta post-burial-mounds WWX whether he likes it or not, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery) It is cql only tho, I didn't realize before adding the rec, that said I'll let it there because I know other people might find the fanfic interesting 😓 ))

1F)

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Suicide of a Parent, References to Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, References to Anti-Depressant Medications, Escort Service, Loneliness, Everybody’s Abandonment Issues, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Moving In Together, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Hopeful Ending, Recovery, References to Escorting/Sex Work but No Actual Escorting/Sex Work)

Wangji's Beautiful Stranger by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 47k, WIP, WangXian Modern AU, Soulmates, older lwj, younger wwx, Minor NieLan, LWJ is So Whipped, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Modern: No Powers, Not Jiang Family Friendly)

Like stones on an unseen board by Vir_Abelasan (Not rated, 11k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Dark LWJ, Older LWJ, Teacher LWJ, dark twin jades, Age Difference, Manipulation, Protective LWJ, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Relatively canon-typical abusive Jiangs, WWX Get a Happy Ending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Clan Friendly)

1G)

For you by 10thNoNamePerson (T, 16k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Canon Divergence, No War AU, Teen Wangxian, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Jealous WWX, Soft WangXian, No Sunshot Campaign)

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) What if the Wen clan is too busy to attack anyone & WWX has time to think about his place in the Jiang sect

Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing) What if WWX doesn't attend the Wen indoctrination

Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear (G, 21k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, no one dies, LQR finds out about WWX’s core, WWX and LQR are friends??, In My Fic?, its more likely than you think, LWJ in the bg like whats happening?, Fluff, WWX goes to Gusu, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal) What if LQR finds out about WWX's missing core (note: this one is tagged as both mdzs & cql, but I don't recall any specific cql stuff in there

the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships (M, 40k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending) What if WWX realises who the mysterious 'maiden' who kissed him is (also tagged as both mdzs & cql, but I don't recall if there's any cql stuff in there)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts) What if WWX doesn't take WN with him to Lanling (also tagged as both mdzs & cql, but I don't recall if there's any cql stuff in there)

~*~

2. Hi is there any fic about wwx sleepwalking?

Mud on Your Feet by AvoOwO (Not Rated, 59k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Nightmares, Sentient Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds, Possession, Panic Attacks, Night Terrors, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Good Sibling JC, Hurt WWX, Soft WangXian, Feels, Blood and Injury, Hallucinations, Delusions, JC Loves WWX, Insomnia, Good Sibling WWX, Sleepwalking, Sleeptalking, LWJ just wants to sleep with his husband, Protective JC, WWX Sees Dead People, LJY pulls through, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses, PTSD, Post-Canon, YLLZ WWX, resentful energy, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Thirteen Years of WWX’s Death, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, WWX is tired, LWJ literally just wants to sleep with WWX again is that too much to ask for??, Soft JC, Yunmeng Siblings Feels) THE wwx sleepwalking ff

who could stay? you could stay by martyrsdaughter (G, 12k, WangXian, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, Fluff, Sleepwalking, Literal Sleeping Together, Crush at First Sight, Neighbors)

~*~

3. I'm In The Mood For a fic that embraces how much of an exquisite bitch Lan Wangji can be. "You are not qualified to speak to me", etc. Please and thank you! @aralintheobsessive

the only way out by cafecliche (T, 12k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Post-Canon, this is one part character study, one part comedy of errors, and one part fix-it, WWX is a people pleaser in this essay I will, my event planning experience rearing its head again, Podfic Available)

🔒 The Second Jade of Lan’s late but incendiary sexual awakening by KizuKatana (E, 41k, wangxian, First Time, LWJ’s Horny Grip, LWJ does not know what hit him, and yet somehow he still realizes it before WWX, canon wangxian dynamics, college AU, LWJ starts off annoyed at WWX, But quickly discovers both his competency kink and a caretaking kink, Genius WWX)

🔒 Revenge is a Side Dish Best Served With Tea by merakily (G, 7k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Protective LWJ, Petty LWJ, Fluff and Humor)

💖 Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 11k, wangxian, protective LWJ, genius LWJ, post-canon, fluff & humor, getting together, chief cultivator LWJ)

🔒Here With Me by iamwish (T, 58k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, wwx turns this into a no war!au, Canon-Typical Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Bad Parent YZY, POV WWX, POV LWJ, POV JC, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Has PTSD, and also depression sometimes, Unreliable Narrator, (all of them)) It's a small part of the fic, but time traveller LWJ decides to befriend JC & JYL for the sake of his future husband & his thoughts on this are hilarious

~*~

4. Hi I have an itmf request! Favorite fusion-style aus? For example wangxian fic in an AtLA setting, but more obscure crossovers are fine too

To Prepare for a Hidden Knife by liverbiver9 (T, 103k, WN/WWX/LWJ, Inspired by Mr. Queen (TV), Emperor WN, Empress WWX, Trans WWX, Gender Non-Conforming WWX, Political Intrigue, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Isekai and Transmigration, Gender Identity, Slow Burn, chapter 11 rated E but entirely skippable!, Gender Exploration, Gender Changes, Female JGY, Female NHS, Scheming NHS, Scheming JGY, Trans Female JZX, JZX & LWJ Friendship, Polyamory, BAMF WN, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Romantic Comedy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Out of character WN, I mean I don’t think he’s ooc but he certainly doesn’t follow the fanon characterization)

🔒 Season of Resurrection by Pyrrti (G, 1k, WangXian, Sky: Children of the Light Fusion, POV Multiple, Pre-Relationship, Reunions, POV LSZ, POV LWJ, POV WWX)

The Weight of the World by KouriArashi (T, 67k, WangXian, XiYao, XuanLi, Pacific Rim Fusion, Robots, Monsters, robots fighting monsters, Family, Romance, Developing Relationship, Angst, (but not about the romances), Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Happy Ending)

Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern AU, unleashed au Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist, Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx’s biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending)

So You Accidentally Kidnapped A Qilin by Mikkeneko (T, 83k, WangXian, Juuni Kokki | Twelve Kingdoms Fusion, mdm yu’s a+ parenting, Identity Issues, Cultivator Politics, Yin Iron Poisoning, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, WWX Needs a Hug, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Getting Together, Temporary Character Death, Happy Ending, Pacifist WWX, MXTX Big Bang 2021)

our reflections as seen (when the water stills) by chatonnerie (E, 121k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Modern, Tokyo Ghoul Fusion, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, This is a ghoul au, but everyone is also in university, so dumb energy is peak, Gore, Body Horror, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Biting, both the goryand the horny, WWX's inability to Shut Up)

Stars bring us apart (Stars pull us together) by Sixlayerhouse (sixlayerhouse) (E, 124k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, (Vaguely) Star Trek AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Psychological Trauma, PTSD, Body modifications, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Recovery, married!wangxian)

🔒 some lovely, perilous thing by varnes (E, 24k, WangXian, Inception Fusion, Criminal Associates To Lovers, Heist, Case Fic)

🔒 and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They’re Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending, podfic of and having a marvellous time by varnes by Spinifex)

Castle in the Wastes by ailuridae (abigailnicole) (T, 41k, wangxian, Howl’s Moving Castle fusion, personified Chenqing, canon typical violence)

🔒 Half Agony, Half Hope by queenklu (T, 105k, WangXian, LXC/JGY, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, Jane Austen Fusion, persuasion au, Pining, Broken Engagement, Secrets, Espionage, Child Injury, Terrible Parents (YZY & JFM), Past Child Neglect)

🧡 The World We Made by updatebug (T, 80k, WangXian, Modern AU, The Old Guard fusion, Immortals, Immortal LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Junior Quartet is the best Quartet, JYL is the best, NMJ Lives, Reincarnation, The Old Guard AU, Temporary Character Death)

🔒 the red dark shifting by typefortydeductions (E, 15k, WangXian, Star Trek Fusion, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Ambiguous/Open Ending, But it will be ok, PTSD, Nightmares, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Mild Gore, Tarsus IV, mentions of medical procedures, attempting to accept the love you deserve, pangs!)

Beneath The Skin by daltoneering (E, 40k, WangXian, Fairytale Retelling, Canon Adjacent, Beauty and the Beast AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, farmer LWJ, he has a braid and the fact that everyone knows this is very important to me, Chronic Illness, (not any of the MCS), sad LWJ, LQR is in this purely as a plot device, vague background nielan, One-Sided XiYao, JGY is a real creep in this im sorry but someone had to be gaston, Dark WWX, WWX: master of crows agenda, self-worth issues like woah, Blood, Body Horror, Crows galore, this is incredibly gothic and melancholic don't @ me, Drugging, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, Anal Sex, Some questionable worldbuilding, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, (or in wwx's case), (loved), LWJ POV, please read a/n for further warnings)

I will be chasing a starlight by feyburner, sundiscus (E, 71k, WangXian, Star Trek Fusion, Vulcan LWJ, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pon Farr, Mind Meld, Fuck Or Die, Anal Sex, Hurt/Comfort)

~*~

5. hii this is for itmf!

I'm sure someone has already asked for this before 😅

fics which focus on, or significantly mention, lwj raising a-yuan after he gets whipped, like while being heavily injured (no wips if possible 😅)

ty! @bunnycoffeeumcat

🔒 the map of days by everythingispoetry (M, 20k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Permanent Injury, Recovery, Disability, Parenthood, Character Study, Thirteen Years of WWX’s Death)

Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Not Rated, 19k, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian, dad wangji, LWJ’s Questionable Parenting Skills, Grief/Mourning, Recovery, Injury Recovery, Hopeful Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

Inquiry by incendir (G, 10k, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian)

🔒 no new age Series by everythingispoetry (M/T, 145k, WangXian, XiYao, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Permanent Injury, Recovery, Disability, Parenthood, Character Study, Thirteen Years of WWX's Death, Growing Up, Family Dynamics, Self-Discovery, Mental Health Issues, Grief/Mourning, Families of Choice, Developing Relationship)

Meet you at a different place by tawaen (M, 57k, WangXian, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Canon Divergence, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ) It's not a major part, but as soon as LWJ finds out WQ is trying to help piece together the fragments of WWX's soul, he insists on tagging along on the quest with LSZ, despite his injuries

~*~

6. In the mood for: I wonder if there is some fic where Lan Zhan dies at that cliff battle instead of Wei Wuxian. Or maybe if they both die there together. And then someone would ressurect them both. That would be really interesting to read.

💖 Regrets by antebunny (G, 37k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Time Travel, Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Angst, Explicit Descriptions of Love, and other squishy feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending) LWJ accidentally kills WWX during the fight & they both find themselves back in time during CRSA

🔒 Turnabout and Start Again by runningondreams (T, 34k, WIP, WangXian, Temporary Character Death, Role Reversal, Soulmates, Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, SuicideI, mprisonment, Violence, Minor Character Death, Mild Gore, Pining, Identity Issues, Getting Together, Happy Ending) this is similar, LWJ isn't present for the First Siege of the Burial Mounds but due to a soulmate bond, he dies instead of WWX. 13 years later, he's resurrected. (It's a WIP and hasn't been updated since 2020, but well worth reading anyway IMO)

~*~

7. Hi! Do you have wwx and nhs friendship in comp fic? If not, i think you could consider adding that to the upcoming comp fic list (We can add it but I'll also add it here in a Itmf for you ^^ - Mod C)

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that’s spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh)

while covered in mud by merthurlin (T, 12k, NHS & WWX, NHS & NMJ, NHS & Wen remnants, mentioned wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, NHS goes farming and Hates It)

I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 82k, WIP, WangXian, Lan protective team, Time Travel, Past, LWJ oriented, Arranged Marriage, Boys In Love, Soulmates, Fix-It, Jiang siblings, not jiang parents friendly, Soft LWJ, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX)

Gone Shopping by nirejseki (G, 2k, NHS & WWX, WangXian, Crack, Post-Canon, Mad Scientist WWX, Too Clever For His Own Good NHS, WWX is High INT Low Attention Span, WWX Joins the Nie Sect, Sort Of)

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence) WWX reaches out to NHS while living in the Burial Mounds

IF by Remma3760 (Not Rated, 94k, WangXian, QingJue, Aftermath of Violence, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Fix-It of Sorts, BAMF LWJ, Golden Core Reveal) NMJ decides to give sanctuary to the Wen Remnants, so WWX & LWJ stay in the Unclean Realm & spend a lot of time with NHS

~*~

8. Hi! This is for ITMF

A) Age reversal. Like nhs is the older sibling or jyl is the youngest, etc

B) Role reversal. Like sect leader jyl, wwx is a weak cultivator, instead of jyl and jzx it was wwx and lwj who are in arrange marriage, etc

C) Personality swap. Like between yunmeng trio, etc

Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

8A)

Role Reversal series by Cosmic_Biscuit (T, 13k, NHS & NMJ, JGY/NHS, JGY & XY, NHS/WRH, Major Character Death, Age Swap, Dysfunctional Family, Murder, Necromancy, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Nightmares, Mixed Adaptation, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, One-Sided Attraction, NMJ Is This Close To Committing Murder, Assassination Plot(s), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Gallows Humor, Character Undeath, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Family Dynamics, NHS Stress Cooks, Pre-Relationship, Developing Relationship Protective Siblings Terminal Illnesses Implied/Referenced, Euthenasia, Angst and Feels, Murder Implications, Canonical Character Death, Politics, In Which Everything Goes To Hell, Verbal Abuse, Reunions, Assassination, Wakes & Funerals, Intrigue, Undead, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Family Issues, Sibling Rivalry, Of The One-Sided Sort, Period Typical Attitudes, Implied Favoritism, Family Drama, Baby Steps To Reconciliation, Sibling Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Sick Character)

🔒 Wooden Sabers and Paintbrushes series by East_Of_Akkala (T, 11k, NHS & NMJ, NHS & LXC, NHS & Sect Leaser Nie, Age Changes, Age Swap, Sect Leader NHS, NHS is da-ge, Onesided XiSang, Fluff, Light Angst, Brotherly Love, POV LXC, NMJ gets a birth name as a treat, Humor, Canon Divergence, Light XiSang, Light NieYao, POV NMJ, NHS gets a birth name as a treat, Nie Siblings Feels, Nie Siblings Dynamics, Scheming NHS, POV NHS, NHS-centric, Violence, Qi-Deviations, Mental Instability, Character Death)

Three Figures on Your Heart (all of them will be me) by MarsDiogenes (M, 6k, LXC/NHS, slight LWJ/NHS, WangXian, WIP, Age Swap, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

🔒 Nie Huaisang's Guide to Political Nonsense by Tavina (M, 58k, NHS & NMJ, NHS & WX, NHS & JGY, NHS & WQ, NHS & WRH, NHS/WX/OFC, Sect Leader Nie & NHS, NHS & LQR, Canon Divergence, NHS-centric, BAMF NHS, Scheming NHS, Nie Brothers Age Swap AU, NHS Needs a Hug, NMJ Needs a Hug, Intergenerational Trauma, Politics, Poison, Medical Conditions, Hiding Medical Issues, Chronic Pain, The Da-ge!NHS Agenda, there’s a Nie-zongzhu loose in the jianghu, NMJ & JZX Friendship Agenda, Wildly Inaccurate Qi Deviation Lore, Unconventional Relationship, Polyamory Negotiations, Age Swap, Mental Health Issues, Entire Nie Sect Needs a Hug, LQR Needs a Pay Raise and a Spa Day, JGY is a Mess, JGY is deeply long suffering, Pray for WX, WRH is his own warning tbh, Everyone's Obsessive Sibling Feelings, NHS Jianghu Goose Agenda, POV Outsider)

~*~

9. Can I submit an I'm in the mood for? Fem Wei Wuxian and fem Lan Wangji? @starrie-amethyst

A Touch To Calm This Aching Heart by Multifacetedinterests (E, 12k, wangxian, F/F, fox WWX, dragon LWJ, fem!wangxian, not YZY friendly, face slapping, touchstarved, emotional manipulation, enemies to lovers, miscommunication, hurt/comfort, non-con collar usage, smut)

~*~

10. Hii, this is an ITMF req/question:

Do you know any fics that address wangji’s punishment after wuxian has been cleared of crimes and/or the elders realizing they were wrong all those years ago

~*~

11. Heloooooo can you please give me badass mafia fics where everyone EVERYONE except Wei Ying is mafia/ gangster/ underworld person. I don't mind Jiang bashing, but I'd like reading good Jiang fics too ✨✨ @constellationdks

~*~

12. Hi! This is for ITMF. An aftermath of sunshot campign where wwx is not in sunshot side. Like he is a hostage/a wen weapon/a wen soldier. Something like Make Me Your Villain by YilingSani or At the end of the winter, I met you who became the spring by abCEE

Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

burning camellias by AvoOwO (M, 284k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Prisoner of War, Genius WWX, Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Violence, Blood and Injury, BAMF WQ, BAMF WWX, BAMF WN, POV WWX, Hurt WWX, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Sentient Burial Mounds, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX Has No Golden Core, Golden Core Destruction | Golden Core Melting, Poisoning, Protective WQ, Medical Torture, Cannibalism, PTSD, Dubious Consent Consent Issues, Heavy Angst, MIND THE TAGS) please mind the tags

~*~

13. Hello! I have a request for the next itmf.

I'm in the mood for

A) longer omegaverse wangxian that explores politics of the cultivation world

B) preferably longer (20k and above) post-Sunshot Campaign fic that focuses on Wei Wuxian and his mental health, his relationships with other people (can be the Jiangs, Nie Huaisang, Wen sibling or others) and Lan Wangji. It would be awesome if the Lans or the Nies found out about his golden core.

Thank you so much for all your hard work! @broodyelii

13A)

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow by izanyas (E, 321k, WIP, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Rape Recovery, Unplanned Pregnancy, Discrimination, Slow Burn, the slowest burn imaginable, Violence/Gore, Child Abuse, Suicide, post-partum depression, a painful but gentle journey into the intricacies of bodily autonomy) mind the tags

13B)

Field Trips with Wei Wuxian by antebunny (G, 42k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, NMJ & WWX, JZX & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, protective Jiang siblings, Unreliable Narrator, due to WWX assuming ppl hate him, JYL is gonna dropkick her baby bro into having friends)

Practical Considerations by teawater, the_anthropologist (E, 97k, WangXian, JC & WWX, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Spouses to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Politics, Scheming, Lán Elders are assholes, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, eventually BAMF LXC, learning to make decisions, Learning Self-worth, Self-Esteem Issues, Sweet Wangxian, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, JC is a big asshole, he improves somewhat but it's open-ended, WWX learns to stand up for himself, Quote: Come Back to Gusu With Me, POV wwx, POV LWJ, POV JC, Golden Core Reveal, Teacher wwx, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post-Sunshot Campaign, WWX Protection Squad, Feelings Realization, WWX protector of the twin jades, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Protective LQR, Demonic Cultivator WWX, WWX is Loved, Married WangXian, Genius WWX, Everybody Lives)

Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 59k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Canon Divergence, Fix-it fic, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions, LWJ’s emotional repression, WWX giving everything as always, LXC realising sympathy is not support, LQR Being an Asshole)

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek, the breaking of your soul (upon my lips), The Core Issue, & IF that I've linked above for other requests probably also work for this request (links in 1G & 7)

~*~

14. I'm looking for fanfics where Wei Ying dies in Guanyin Temple

~*~

15. Hiiii, how are y’all doing? Today itmf three things, hopefully at least one already exists:

A) jfm makes wwx sect heir right before indoctrination so he has to go and jc can stay behind

B) jyl confronts her brother for the position of sect leader with the support of the sect

C) jc is the one who pushes wwx away from danger in nightless city

I hope your day/night is going great. Tyvm!

~*~

16. Hello, Itmf works, where Wei Ying is living in extreme poverty in his adulthood and his brilliant mind can't provide him with means, because government is blocking all the ways for his case or he is an invalid ( permanent injury or severe chronic illness). Second option in modern settings is preferable.

I've already read the one where he stock counts the warehouse with lan zhan and the one where he lives in school and lqr finds him and the one where he is living in the veteran house.

Any other suggestions are welcome 🤗 Thank you!

~*~

17. I’m itmf something where wwx or lwj can read the others mind in some way- either thru like a cherry magic au or a curse or anything, just something where one or both is aware of the others thoughts and they work thru their communication issues lmao

beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 12k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, Confessions, Curses, Embarrassment, Vulnerability, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Honesty, Communication, beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot [podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea) )

🔒 the language of flowers and silent things series by Reverie (cl410) (M, 107k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, LWJ & Madam Lan, NHS & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, LWJ & NMJ, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the YZY warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric, Politics, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, Cultivation Sect Politics, Protective WWX)

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by thunderwear (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Truth Spells, Curses, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Post CQL, Getting Together)

So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend (E, 13k, wangxian, Hurt/Comfort, Curses, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Confessions, Drunkenness)

Too Beautiful For Words, Will My Thoughts Suffice? by Watermelonsmellinfellon (T, 8k, wangxian, fluff, crushes, flirting, telepathy, falling in love, LWJ pov, drama, golden core reveal)

My Heart is Yours to Fill or Burst by anancites (E, 67k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Inspired By Cherry Magic, Telepathy, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Major Character Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Cherry Magic AU)

💖 Blossom by triedunture (E, 26k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Curses, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, virgin LWJ, Touch-Starved, Telepathy, Cherry Magic AU, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, sad masturbation, First Time, canon typical self harm, Bisexual Disaster WWX)

i'm the one for your fire by occultings (microcomets) (E, 43k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mind Reading, Enemies to Lovers, it's only enemies to lovers in WWX's one braincell, Misunderstandings, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Whump, brief illness/injury, Pining, light bdsm in the first chap, Cherry Magic AU, Getting Together, Podfic Available)

~*~

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[noircheols]

˗ˏˋ  AS THE SUN HITS ; l. seokmin ´ˎ˗

she'll be waiting, with her cool things, and her heaven. (7.6k+)

⋆ SYNOPSIS. ― you were his muse, the motivation behind every note he strummed on his lyre, and every verse he sang. but now the air that would rush through his lungs as he'd sing could only be pried from your cold dead hands.

⋆ INFO. ― angst, fluff, ancient greece!au, historical fantasy!au, greek mythology!au, hurt no comfort

⋆ PAIRING. ― orpheus!dokyeom x eurydice!reader

⋆ PRNS. ― they / them

⋆ CW. ― MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood, seokmin can carry the reader, seokmin is afraid of dying cus of hubris, hades!minghao and persephone!jun take on gender fluid-esque forms for my sake (dont question it), mentions of starving, s3xu4l 4ssault mention (verbal), alcohol, food, kissing, pet names (my love, darling), possible historical/mythological inaccuracies, mentions of a beheading, mentions of poisoning, mentions of vomitting, light smut mention (if u blink u probs won't notice)

⋆ 💬.  ― special thanks to @seokmn for proof-reading!! inspired by a post which quite literally stated "orpheus seokmin x eurydice reader" BUT I LOST IT I WANT TO CRYYY. basically op wanted somebody to write something along those premises so i done just that (not shocked if somebody else got to it first tbh...) IF SO THIS WAS NOT COPIED FROM ANYBODY INTENTIONALLY THIS CAME OUT OF MY TINY BRAIN. i forgot who the original poster is but if anybody figures it out PLEASE TELL ME IMMIDIETALLY !!! this idea isnt mine i just wanted to bring it to life :(

Seokmin's favourite pastime was to have you running your hands through his hair. He loved the way your fingers gently brushed through his scalp, as you coaxed him with sweet nothings after a long day. It's what kept Seokmin going, his knees buckling as the musician climbed the hill to your cottage. Every day followed a very specific routine, you would be diligently looking over your garden, and he would wrap his arms around your waist from behind. It was your voice that renewed his love for music. Every word you spoke perfectly pieced together like a song. The way the corners of your mouth curled into a cheeky smile, the shape reminiscent of his lyre. Everything about you sounded right. It's why you made so much sense as his fiance.

Domestic life, despite his rich imagination, was something Seokmin never envisioned. He had travelled across the globe, seeing all that grew upon Gaia's skin. Kings had discovered his talent from messengers, and out of curiosity, invited him to perform. Everybody that heard his voice was bewitched, with rumours spreading that he was Apollo, the God of the Sun and Music taking on a mortal disguise! For his performances, Seokmin had been offered sparkling gems from the King of the Sea, pearlescent ivory from foreign lands in the South, and olive oil that flowed like honey from the finest of orchards. But Seokmin believed the best gift he had received was the gift of song. The gift of your song. With your song came his most stunning melodies. Melodies which tell the story of a wandering bard’s love for a valley nymph, an auloniad. The bard had only hoped the auloniad would notice him. Fortunately, Seokmin could conclude that the bard had a happy ending, because he was living it.

"You've been working too hard, Minnie."  you giggled as you gently tucked a flower behind his ear. You two sat quietly on your shared bed. Seokmin felt his body sink deeper into the linen with how gentle you were, treating him like he was made from the finest glass. Even with his eyes closed, could feel the warmth of your gaze. "You should tell the King to give you a day off, spend it with me, no?" you winked at the man, whose head rested on your lap. A blissful smile rested on his features. He looked angelic with the way the sunset cast its glow upon him.

"My love, he's invited to our wedding tomorrow! I can't afford to accidentally disrespect him. You know how these things work. There are too many stories of courtesans being beheaded; you don't want your fiance dead just before the fun starts!" he laughed. "Wait— are you planning on getting rid of me!?" his eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his sockets.

"Well, your big brother Wonwoo has been looking so good after becoming a scholar in Athens. It would help if you were out of the picture," you smirked, eager to see your fiance's reaction. Seokmin scoffed loudly, getting up from your lap.

"I'll kill Wonwoo before he can even see you!" Seokmin jokingly yelled before tackling you into the bed to be tickled mercilessly. You squealed "stop" repeatedly as your laugh filled the small house. Seokmin was pleased with your reaction, and finally released you from his grasp. He was hovering on top of you, hair falling in front of his eyes. You wanted every day to be like this. You wanted to see that same hair of his turn white and his face aged with time. You wanted to drown in his neverending love. Marriage would finally make you one being, an entity that shares a future and a past, and two breaths walking.

"I can't wait for us to get married tomorrow," Seokmin sighed, as he reached for your hand to kiss. You smiled as his lips brushed against your knuckles. You had heard from fellow nymphs that marriage was a poison that seeped into your bones, immobilizing you and keeping you trapped in a moment. Nymphs were born to be nothing more than bargain pieces, their names alone meaning "bride". However, you begged to differ.

When it came to Seokmin, you felt free. Never did you feel that you were inferior. Waking up next to him peacefully sleeping, as he spooned you. His soft pleas for you to "stay in bed a little longer". When he'd come home from a long day of performances and litter your face with the sweetest kisses, where he would thank you for "being his muse". Looking into his eyes after a long day felt like staring into the wide skies in the valleys you would live in.

You couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.

"You look good," Wonwoo chuckled as he placed a wreath of gold leaves on his younger brother's head. Seokmin took a good look at himself in the mirror, the gold illuminating the spark in his eyes. It was Wonwoo's wedding gift he brought with him from Athens. His brother supposedly enlisted the best of the best goldsmiths with the very little money he had left to his name to make the stunning crown. The gold metal felt heavy on Seokmin's head, but your love was something he would proudly wear.

It was the day of your wedding. Seokmin had invited his human friends he had met on his adventures, and you invited nymphs of every kind. It was still early in the morning, much before the ceremony would commence in the evening (a personal touch Seokmin included; he remembered how you would get up in the middle of the night to stargaze). Still, the garden was bustling with life. He could hear the joyous hollering of well-wishers from outside his thin house walls.

"Look at you, getting married before me." Wonwoo teased. "I thought you were going to die in a tavern as a spinster— thank the Gods that you found [Name] before you met your fate drunk in a random street."

"Please, I'm not THAT miserable." Seokmin pouted at his brother's remarks. Seokmin's chest heaved. He wanted to see you, he wanted to kiss the bridge of your nose and tell him he was honoured to be your companion in life. He wanted to lift your veil off your face and see your doll-like eyes stare into his.

"Do you think..." Seokmin began to trail off. "Do you think they will love me forever? I know I will love them forever, but what if they become too good for me?"

"Well, Heraclitus had famously stated 'you cannot step into the same river twice' with his Doctrine of Flux—"

"Please don't go all scholar on me! I'm going to my wedding, not to school,"

"All I'm saying is, love never remains constant. It's a dynamic entity, but then again, you and [Name] are pretty dynamic too. You match each other perfectly, it's like Aphrodite blessed you. Although, my little brother has always been loved by the Gods." Wonwoo smoothly explained.

Like Aphrodite blessed me.

Seokmin gave himself a proud smile in the mirror before putting on the rest of his wedding garments.

Brushing the blackened ash of incense over your lashes, you grinned satisfied with your reflection in your hand mirror. You didn't previously imagine marriage or starting a family because you had heard so many stories from fellow nymphs of their nightmare affairs. But once again, Seokmin was different. He had the sincerest of emotions for you, and you for him.

You took a good look outside of your window, inhaling the fresh air. The air was particularly sweet today, maybe it was from the plethora of figs and wine available. Or, maybe it was because your heart swelled so much with excitement from the wedding all your senses were being overshadowed. The cottage you and Seokmin resided in was looking exceptional today, with the bouquets of wildflowers and candles. The cottage was a gift bestowed to you and Seokmin by the King of Aeolia, who adored Seokmin's music. The orchards were bountiful, the fruit plump and sweet. The garden was your favourite place, as you were previously a follower of the nomadic forest deity, Pan. You remember vividly how you first met Seokmin.

You were stringing flowers up from the Earth when you heard a scream ripple through your valley. You chuckled softly to yourself. Humans. Still, there were many stories of them searching for greatness, ignorant to the fact that they were designated to ultimately become the dirt they walk on. Your previous lover, a minor God of trickery, would boast about his status and the inferiority of humankind. You’d laugh at his stories of luring humans to their death, but you were aware that nymphs were just as weak— if not weaker, than humans. Really, nymphs and humans were two different sides of the same coin— two entities that were used by the Gods as playthings to pass their time as immortals. However, a key difference was that humans spent their time locked away in their big marble palaces and scriptures, and nymphs would be imprisoned by the freedom of the wilderness.

What would a human be doing out here in auloniad territory?

You tracked down the origin of the sound, finding yourself deep in the forest. "STAY BACK!" the man shrieked. You peeked behind a willow tree, its long branches acting as a disguise, and you cracked a wicked smile. The man, clutching his lyre, was cornered to the back of a tree by a boar. The beast snarled, showing off its sharpened and bloodied teeth. Boars, to auloniads, were like what puppies were to humans. If this were any other human, you would have allowed the beast to have its way. But something about this man, with his big doe eyes and perfectly sculpted face made him seem... different. He held an aura— no, a glow, that made you interfere.

"Alright, Sherman, please don't eat the nice guest." you stepped out from your hiding spot, cooing at the beast. The boar stopped its hunt once it heard your voice. It trotted over to you, for you to cup its face. "Aren't you just adorable!" you gushed, ruffling with its fur.

Seokmin's eyes fell onto you, fear evaporating from his body. You were... magnificent. He had seen beautiful people before, when he was entertaining royalty. Princes and princesses would throw themselves on him, begging to take him to bed. But you were beautiful like the waterfalls he'd see on his journeys, birds chirping signalling a new day, the rocky steppes of mountainous terrains in Crete.

"His name is Sherman?" Seokmin began to laugh.

"Her." you giggled, as the beast revelled in your affection. Seokmin began to laugh to himself, wondering how the same vicious boar, who had chased him from across the forest, could resemble the same characteristics as a harmless puppy under the right touch.  You released Sherman, letting her go to run off into the wild. 

"Thank you for saving me," Seokmin spoke up, drinking in the nymph's beauty. You laughed— goodness, how could somebody be so charming? "Next time when you come into this neck of the woods, I'd advise you to not play any instruments. Boars are extremely sensitive to noise. Rather, go to the Pineios River to practice." you advised. "What were you playing, anyways?" being a nymph, curiosity bested you. It’s not always you get a human in your hand.

"Oh, just this old thing!" Seokmin brought a rather strange thing from his dilapidated satchel, a gold tubular instrument.

“And… what is it?”

“A salpinx! Its pretty loud though, soldiers use this in battles. Maybe this thing is why Sherman wanted to kill me…” Seokmin thought out loud. You giggled at the human's cuteness. He was endearing, like a fawn.

“Well, I should get going now, back to doing absolutely nothing.” you chuckled. As you began trekking up the forest, you heard Seokmin call out to you.

“Wait!— Why don’t I play something for tomorrow, just the two of us? At the Pineios River!” Seokmin offered.

He was composed when it came to playing in front of giant cyclops to convince them to let him live, at weddings of huge political significance, impressing the Goddess of Arts and Crafts, and setting wild lions to sleep with gentle lullabies. But to have you in his audience was the most nerve-wracking thing to him. To feel your eyes bore deep into him was… tantalizing. To be the object of your attention, as you spend your days together lazing in each other's company. He had never felt stage fright before. But that only motivated him to perform the best he could.

Grinning, you turned your head around. “I’d love to.”

He knew at that moment he wanted to marry you, and that feeling only grew stronger every time he played for you.

The festivities were in full swing. Guests took it upon themselves to feast on the multiple honey-flavoured sweets prepared and the platter of goat's cheese with cucumbers and figs. There was an overwhelming amount of wine available to wash it down. "Eat it all up and vomit it all out" was the Ancient world's favourite way to pass the time. Amongst all their excitement, Seokmin was oddly quiet.

"You aren't eating anything," Wonwoo observed, eyeing his brother's untouched plate.

"Something feels wrong," Seokmin responded, voice hushed so only his brother could hear.

"How?" Wonwoo asked before going for a second lamb rib.

“It feels like… my life is going to change tonight.” Seokmin solemnly spoke. “I mean— aside from the fact I’m literally getting MARRIED. But, I don’t know, something is telling me I should check in on [Name].”

"Maybe you’re just experiencing pre-wedding anxiety. It's common.” Wonwoo explained. Wonwoo was Seokmin’s polar opposite, in that he viewed convoluted situations as simple problems with logical answers. Wonwoo was reasonable, a characteristic all scholars possessed. Growing up, in difficult situations, it was Wonwoo’s brain that triumphed over Seokmin’s heart. “I'm sure [Name] is alright, they have all their friends. Just trust me on this and eat your food." Seokmin gave a weak nod before picking up a fig to eat.

Seokmin wishes he had listened to his heart before it was too late.

By evening, Seokmin was expected to have wed you already. By now, you would be dancing to his lyre with a careless smile with the stars smiling down on your union. But as Seokmin searched tirelessly for you, he could hear the stars laughing wickedly.

“My love?!!” Seokmin called out for his love. "Please, answer me!" Seokmin's eyes frantically scanned over the almost endless rolling hills. He felt like he was staring into the ocean. At first glance, the ocean was inviting and almost harmless, but the danger was in its infinite grasp over the world. But Seokmin would claw through the waves if it meant he could be with you.

"No sign of them here!" one of his wedding guests shouted.

"Over here!" one of your nymph friends called out, waving at him. Seokmin ran over to see what was happening, and his heart sank. You lay peacefully on the tall grass, as though you were just in a deep sleep. The earth was waiting for you to finally return to its arms. It had yearned for your return ever since you left the valley to travel alongside Seokmin. Now that you have returned to it, Seokmin knew better than anybody it wouldn't let you go. 

"We were all just dancing, like we normally did and—" another nymph choked on her tears, rolling down her cheeks at the same tempo of the beads of blood rolling down your ankle and staining the lush bed of grass underneath. "We were startled by an entourage of hunters, threatening us with all sorts of crude things, because that's all nymphs are good for. But [Name] wouldn't take any of it, and soon enough, it delved into an argument— and the huntsman just shoved them so hard that they stumbled onto a stupid venomous snake."

Rage.

There had never been a moment where Seokmin felt so much rage.

What was even more bitter was that your blood was trickling into the Pineios River, the same place he had given his first performance to you. The sounds of the water gently crashing against the shore did nothing to soothe him. His world, you, had just stopped. But the rest of the world still flooded past your body, reminding him that he was just another pebble in the riverbed that was life. The river, which was supposed to be a natural monument to your love, was now stained by your death. You had deliberately chosen to get married by the Pineios River and to have your cottage here, because this is where time would stand still for you and him.

"Where are those hunters?" Seokmin questioned, as he scooped you into his arms. It hurt him that you were so perfect. Even in your final moments, you chose to remain generous and protect the people you love most. How he wished you could have been more selfish.

"They ran off into the woods, laughing to themselves..." another responded.

Seokmin's fingers clung to your figure, hoping to feel your blood rush. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to bring you back and finalize his vows with you. He was supposed to carry you into your shared cottage as blushing newlyweds, staring up at the ceiling together because that was your favourite thing to do. But here he was, carrying your cold lifeless body. That same body which he spooned to sleep. Just moments ago, he woke you up with a kiss on the forehead. How did moments seem so distant?

Burying his face in your chest, Seokmin sobbed. Maybe he could hear your heart beat once more? Maybe you could feel his warmth, and then you would regain your spark and miraculously come back to life. Your eyes would flutter open, and you could spend your last moments with him in the sweet bliss of domesticity. Seokmin thought that if he wailed loudly enough, the Gods would hear his pleas and give him his greatest love. His big brother's words, "Beloved by the gods," echoed in his mind, ringing painfully in his memories.

No human could ever be loved by a god. Not the same way he loved you, at least.

He loved you. And that's what was going to be his undoing.

It had been days since the wedding. Seokmin hadn't been eating regularly. Some twisted part in his mind lashed at him for not being there to protect you. He should have been the last thing you saw. He should have held you so as you shut your eyes and left this world he could have been able to say goodbye. He wishes he could have been able to say goodbye. Or maybe, he wouldn't need to say goodbye, because he would keep you away from those hunters and you would have never tripped. It doesn't matter now, because while your breath was faltering and your heart slowed he was feasting without a care in the world.

Seokmin also stopped sleeping. It's grown to hurt him too much. Every time he would close his eyes to rest, he hoped that when he woke up, it was all a part of a cruel trick his mind was playing on him. But it never was. It then grew to become him trying to sleep forever, so that time would pass by seamlessly and he would shrivel and find himself in the Underworld with you. But it would never work. It was because he was selfish. He would wake up in the middle of the night, his chest heaving and gasping for air. As much as he was terrified of losing you, perhaps most importantly, he nursed a fear of dying. He was a coward who turned his back on death, the only time humans are treated equally. But he was not like the rest, he was a jewel amongst the rock garden of humanity, and you were supposed to adore him. He was vain, but any artist with self-respect was. Why should he be treated the same as other humans, when he was a hero of far-off kingdoms and Apollo's champion?

Rather than disappointing himself, he took to roaming the gardens you tended to so ardently. "I'm still a nymph, after all! I’m good with plants" your voice rang clearly in his head like a bell.

Staring mindlessly at the flowerbed, meddling with the strings of his lyre, singing to himself. All he could think about was how spring was treading forth on its heels, bringing flowers in their bloom. But when you died, you left him none of the bright colours that dotted your shared world. Maybe, he could catch the Goddess of Spring, Persephone, and beg her to convince her husband to bring you back to him. The Goddess of Spring, or as he likes to appear to humans, Jun.

Seokmin knelt before the once flourishing bed of flowers, singing once more. Louder. With more strength. Maybe Apollo won't fail him, and will take his golden chariot mounted by swans to pluck you back from Hades and return you back home. You would emerge from the shining beams of sunlight, and you will both laugh about this cruel dream. If Apollo could gift him his lyre, surely he could gift him his love?

Seokmin's eyes fluttered, feeling those restless nights catching up on him. His exhaustion made him mistake the dirt as a gigantic pillow. Seokmin's shoulders sank, as he lowered his head. Maybe the dirt will consume him and crush him into a fine dust that will leave nothing but his soul, free to travel between worlds and free to reunite with you. But— then he would be gone. He would be nothing more than the dirt people stepped on. He could no longer hear the music of the world he loved so much.

"No!" Seokmin shook himself awake. His eyes slowly enlarged. That once large brown pillow suddenly had flowers sprouting out of its barren surface. Soft pink blooms with thin twig-like stems, native to the craggy stony steppes of Aeolia, called evia. Your favourite flowers. There was only one possible explanation of how this could have happened.

A figure walked towards the bard, long pastel pink silk trailing to the ground and flowers from every part of the world woven into his hair. Jun. The manifestation of the Goddess of Spring.

"A nymph was sobbing in the Underworld about you, mortal." his voice echoed.

"How did you find me?" Seokmin bowed in front of the Goddess, making sure to keep his eyes glued to the ground.

"Please, enough of these formalities! I'm not going to drag you down to the Underworld." Jun chuckled, finding Seokmin amusing. The Goddess of Spring was much kinder than his husband, that's for sure. Although, that didn't mean they didn't share the same sense of gallows humour. It makes the Ancients let out a sigh of relief that it wasn't Hades allowed to crawl the service and take all who frustrated him back underneath the Earth's crust to never be seen again. "As one finds all champions of Apollo, find where the sun shines brightest and where the music sounds sweetest."

"What are you doing here, then?"

Jun merely laughed at that question. "What gall you have, mortal! Asking why spring goes where it wishes?" Jun stopped laughing, catching his breath.

"Normally, I don't care about the dead. That's Minghao's job. It's so glum, don't you think? Listening to whining brats isn't really my forte, thank goodness he's so patient." Minghao was the chosen mortal name of Hades, the malevolent ruler of the Underworld, waiting for the fall of every being from the shadows. “Patient” was certainly one way to describe him.

"But this one was special. Wailing as loud as possible so Apollo could hear them, but alas! His home is high up in the sky, he's too brilliant for us! Minghao told me that this was the soon-to-be spouse of Apollo's champion. Naturally, I was curious about them, since they had managed to capture the attention of one who is in Apollo's favour."

"I'm honoured to have caught your attention, but..." Seokmin paused, wondering what to say. "Will you please bring them back?"

"Bring out your hands, mortal." Jun sighed, reaching down to pick up an evia. Reluctantly, Seokmin laid his palm flat. "Minghao always explains to me that mortality is chained to time. The second a mortal is born, the clock never stops ticking. Second after second" Jun tears off a petal. "day after day." and another. "Year by year." and another. "Your darling was already dying. Until finally—" SNAP! Jun rips the stem in half. "The clock stopped." Jun brushed off the broken flower into Seokmin's palm. "Now if you excuse me, my curiosity has been satiated."

"Forgive me for my intrusion, but you're immortal. I don't think you should be explaining how death works to me." Seokmin spoke up without thinking. What had gotten into him!? Why was he challenging a goddess!? Guilt sunk into him. "I'm so sorry! I— I was speaking without thinking!" Seokmin got on all fours. Jun once again laughed.

"Mortal, do you think I'm enraged? On the contrary, I'm amused!" Jun smiled, kneeling to grab Seokmin's chin and make him look into his eyes, bright like flowers emerging from the cold winter snow. "I'm nothing like those old hags on Olympus! I like your attitude. I was worried that Apollo favoured idiots, but I'm glad he finally chose somebody with a mouth!"

"I— Really??" Seokmin was at a loss for words, getting back up on his feet. "All I ask is, I have a word with Hades. I'm sure he will understand my plight."

"Are you saying you want to challenge him?"

"I mean, you are his bride. You have his affections, surely he will listen to you!" Seokmin pleaded. "Please, I need to see [Name]. Every day has been worthless for me. Food has no taste, music has no rhythm." Seokmin stumbled on his words, his mouth clogged by the emotions plaguing his heart.

"You do understand, mortal, that the dead is not my kingdom. Once we head to the Underworld, I won't be able to protect you." Jun explained. Seokmin sighed, weighing the options.

"I've travelled oceans and fought monsters, talking with the King of the Underworld seems like nothing if I can have [Name] back," Seokmin answered.

Jun wryly smiled, his eyes mischievously glinting with the opportunity to witness a game, as he began his long walk back home. "Well, onwards we go then. It's a long way back." Seokmin firmly nodded, picking up his lyre, as that was all he'd need. "Seriously? That's all?" Jun quirked an eyebrow. Seokmin nodded. Jun scoffed. Maybe all of Apollo's favourites were idiots.

Finally done climbing up the stony steps, Seokmin arrived at the large entrance of Hades's palace. Dark obsidian columns with silver accents and a large door handle of bone, except large bouquets crawling down its walls (courtesy of Jun).

"Let's go over some basics before you meet him, alright?" Jun turned to Seokmin. "Number one, don't touch anything! Otherwise, you're stuck here for good. Instead, let me open this door for you." Jun leaned against the cool frame of the door. "Number two, Hades isn't nearly as cruel as you mortals make him out to be. He's actually quite fair, as death should be."

"Death wasn't fair to my love." he huffed, letting his true feelings show. Jun knew this feeling of resentment toward Minghao wasn't uncommon. So many mortals beg for his forgiveness, to make their deaths as seamless as the flow of time. But even then mortals resent death for taking their loved ones away.

"That's what they all say." Jun rolled his eyes. "Third, play by his rules. Minghao normally finds you mortals championed by the arrogant Gods of Olympus to be so prideful, so it'll be refreshing to see something opposite of that, and you'll be in his graces." Seokmin's ears perked at the last bit. Could he wager immortality, then? Could he have you and him enjoying the future without the fear of it ending?  "Number four, and most importantly. It's easier to get into the Underworld than to leave it."

"Alright so no touching, Hades is nice, listen to him, and it's hard to leave." Seokmin recounted.

"Exactly!" Jun gave a thumbs-up before the gates opened for him.  "Now put your game face on, Champion of Apollo." Seokmin quietly followed after Jun, his eyes glazing over the palace. Each wall held engraving of different stories, all stories which shared an ending in the Underworld. The final destination for all.

"Hao!" Jun called. "I brought you somebody!"

"Leave them at the front desk, the clerk will sort them out!" Minghao replied, his voice booming. Seokmin covered his ears, he forgot how loud the voices of Gods appeared to regular people. Jun opened the last gate, and into the throneroom. Seokmin's jaw dropped. He could only imagine being back at the cottage with you, composing a song of Hades and rescuing you. The large throne perched upon stairs of what looked like sizzling magma. Seokmin gulped looking at the throne, composed of skeletons, all of them belonging to those who had mocked the King of the Underworld. Most importantly, was the very king that sat comfortably on his throne. Seokmin imagined the king to be hot-tempered, like the fires which scorched wrong-doers. But it was very much the opposite. Cold. Cold like a corpse when it stops breathing.

"I bring to you, a Champion of Apollo! This is the one we were talking about earlier, the fiance of the nymph." Jun turned to Seokmin, signalling for him to follow.

"Um, uh— greetings, your... awfulness? I would say highness, but we are at the lowest part of the Earth. Would your lowness work better?" Seokmin mumbled, awkwardly, kneeling in front of Hades.

"Isn't this exciting!" Jun forced a smile, mentally face-palming.

"He isn't dead." Minghao finally spoke, a chill piercing through the room. "Stand, mortal. I want to look at the one who dares challenge me." Minghao stepped down from his throne as Seokmin's legs struggled to stand up without wobbling. Jun sighed, knowing this was where his power over Minghao ended. As Jun walked up to his own throne adorned in flowers, he turned to Seokmin and mouthed "Good luck."

"Mortal, you dare mock me? Using my bride as a bargaining piece, breaching my palace, and all while your heart still beats?" Minghao threatened, analyzing the man in front of him. Minghao was perfect. Perfect in the way all Gods are. But he was impressed with Seokmin, that even compared to a God he was able to stand proud. "It makes sense that you caught Apollo's attention, but I detest the Gods of Olympus. They keep me underground, send me humanity’s worst, and expect my generosity." he scoffed.

"I— I only have one wish for you." Seokmin finally spoke. Minghao raised a brow. "I suspect it has something to do with shipment #50A194. The auloniad." Minghao thought out loud.

"You assign numbers to everybody who comes here?"

"People die every day, I have to keep track somehow." the God casually shrugged. "They were nothing like other nymphs. Normally, nymphs are relieved to come to my arms, as humans and gods alike toy with them. But this one was upset. This one says you have shown them something special, something that makes my kingdom pale in comparison. I wonder what it is." Seokmin's answer of “music” hung in the air.

"All I ask from you is that you return my love to me." Seokmin blurted. A beat of silence. Seokmin felt the air around him suffocate him, his body growing numb. Another beat of silence.

Minghao stepped closer to Seokmin. "Are you afraid of dying, mortal?" Seokmin froze.

"W-what?" he tried playing it off, but Minghao knew the living just as well as the dead, and the racing of his heart gave him away.

"You champions are all the same. You lead fruitful lives, you find great loves and great riches. But you all are terrified of the end." Minghao smoothly explained. "Just because the sun bends in your favour, doesn't mean death will. You are a coward, is what you are. A coward that fears his end! You will not do what is natural and wait for death to find you. No, instead you will mock death. You will find death, and you will demand it give you what you deserve. Your love for [Name] is not true!"

"OK ENOUGH!" Seokmin roared back, tears dripping down his face. "I love [Name]. More than anything. You can call me a coward, I don't care." Seokmin spoke. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a satisfied Jun enjoying his performance. His vision began to obscure with tears falling once more from his eyes. "Yes, I'm scared of dying. I hate the idea of it. I know it is everybody's fate, but the journey has to be completed alone. I cannot bear the idea of being alone. I cannot bear the idea of being without [Name]." Seokmin looked at the god, gaze unfaltering and filled with rage, the same that filled him on the day of your death. 

"Fine. I admit, I empathize with your cause." Minghao reluctantly sighed. "I shall retrieve your love, and dress them in the finest of Underworld garments and jewels so you can have a wedding ceremony even better than the last." "Really?" Seokmin blinked.

"There is an exit out of the Underworld only Jun and I know, you two can hike up it and will be back home in the blink of an eye. However, I have a condition"

"Anything!" Seokmin grinned, already imagining how he would hold you the second you two reunite. You two will exchange stories of brushing with the Underworld and the sights. He’ll tell you about his encounter with Persephone and her husband, and you will tell him about your trip across the River Styx. 

"You by any means cannot turn around. Not even go as far as to check on the nymph that will be right behind you. You will only have one chance. If you fail, you shall be separated from each other in eternity." Minghao sternly spoke. Seokmin's smile dropped as quickly as it quirked up. "You are forbidden from communicating to them, as well as touching them. You will also be unable to hear them."

"But, how will I know they are with me!?" "Not my problem." Minghao sighed. "This is the most you're getting from me. Now, shoo." Rolling his eyes, Minghao made his way back to his throne. "The next time I see you, you better be dead. If not, I'll make sure of it."

Seokmin waved goodbye to the kind Goddess of Spring and bowed to Hades to signal his respects to the Underworld. He took a deep breath in, looking up at the glittering light seeping through the cracks. The only exit out of here, and his ticket to freedom. He could imagine the sweetness of your lips kissing him. Your voice sighs in relief that he came to rescue you from oblivion. Standing in his way was a long, steep and rocky path, its width shrinking the closer it was to the exit.

"My love, how I missed you!" you grinned. "You can't believe how abysmal it is here! God, it felt so lonely, I just– I couldn't stop crying."

As he gently stepped forward, he could feel the loose soil underneath him shift and slip. Normally, he would have no concern. You're an auloniad, for crying out loud. Rocky terrain dotted with grass is your home. But the snake bite that pierced your ankle was bound to compromise your movement. He figured he'd just move slowly, for your sake.

"Ah, I fear my leg still hurts from the bite. Could you go a little slowly?"

As Seokmin carefully climbed the rugged steps, a thought popped into his head. Hades did not specify that he was forbidden from singing to himself. It just happened to be a coincidence that you overheard him. Humming to himself (and maybe to you, as well) he strummed the strings of his lyre.

"My favourite song!" you gushed. "Do you remember the first time you performed for me, at the Pineios River? Goodness, you just get better every single day!"

Normally, his song would penetrate through the deepest of depths, and his voice would triumph above all. But it all felt hollow like the darkness of those depths was consuming him whole and slowly pushing him back into the Underworld. He wished, so desperately, to know you were listening. Seokmin couldn't hear your steps or your breathing. It was haunting, how you weren't here on this long climb, yet he could vividly remember you. Grief is strange. How you must restrain yourself from looking back on memories of loved ones corrupted by their death.

"Please, turn around so I can get a good look at you. Don't you think I deserve that, at least?"

Maybe he was doomed. How could he know that Hades wasn't mocking him? The light which had guided Persephone to him and the passion which motivated him was being waned.

"Seokmin, why are you ignoring me?" your voice grew softer. "Is it something I said? Have I upset you? Please, just answer me already. You're making me nervous." You reached out for his hand, but he moved it away.

Feeling the chill of a cold wind brush past his palm, Seokmin moved it closer to his chest, hoping the Underworld hadn’t drained him of his life. When will he get to hold your hand again?

Knees buckling, he let out a sigh of relief that he was finally halfway up, already smiling knowing Apollo was waiting for him with the way the light grew even brighter.

"Darling, please, just talk to me. Say something." you huffed. "Why can't you just turn around!?" You hobbled on your ankle, trying to keep up with your lover, watching him disappear as he moved closer to the light. "I don't understand, what is wrong with you!? Please, just turn around already!" Your eyes began welling with tears, raising your voice as much as possible.

As Seokmin treaded higher up, he noticed the crack enlarge just enough so that he could pop his head through. He let out a long sigh of relief, as cold sweat dripped down his forehead, his knees stinging from exhaustion. What would be the first thing he would do with you on the Overworld? Roll in the grass? Breathe in the fresh air? Hoist you up and listen to your heart beating in your chest? Seokmin tries to think, but the Underworld is unforgiving. The air felt thick and heavy, gravity dragging him down as he tried to tear himself away from its clutches, taunting him that your death was inevitable and that he would soon be ensnared in the Underworld’s net. It casts doubt upon him. Does his music have the strength to pierce through the darkest of moments as he prides himself on? Was his passion enough? Was Hades and Persephone lying to him? The Gods are not exactly above toying with mortals, as that is their favourite pastime. Doubt settled in his mind. 

Seokmin shook his head. He must stay firm. He mustn’t listen to the doubt in his mind and push through. He feared death. He feared the cold wind brushing behind his back, echoing how his story would end. Cold. Dark. Alone. He needed you back with him. He needed your body’s warmth, your light. He needed to die in your arms.

The grating sound of a rock falling off the ledge and into the abyss below obstructed Seokmin’s train of thought, realizing the sound could mean only one thing. “I got you!” he snapped his head back. Seokmin’s jaw dropped, realizing the horrible mistake he had made. “You finally turned around.” you weakly huffed, tears sparkling in the dark. Minghao had kept his word. You were otherworldly. Contrasting against the darkness, you were a bright star, shrouded in a bright white glow. Your beauty only made him even more upset, as his eyes grew wide with the realization he had squandered his last chance. This was easily a pardonable offence, if the spirits knew how to pardon. In their long-spent immortality, never could they empathize with Seokmin’s plight. 

“I… thought.” Seokmin slowly blinked, tears dripping down his face. Breathing heavily, he tried to calm himself down. He thought you had fallen, and your body would crash against the ground like a fallen star. It wasn’t that his love for you was small, but that it was too much. It was overflowing and reckless, just like the nature of youth. He couldn’t resist turning around to help you, especially with the knowledge of your snakebite. The same stupid thing that sent you here. You frowned, heart hurting at the sight of your lover in disarray. Stepping forward, you cupped his face, your touch still lingering with the frost of the Underworld. “Darling, what’s wrong?” You tried to make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry.” he choked on his sobs. “I wasn’t supposed to turn around… but I just got so nervous, I thought you fell,” Seokmin confessed. “I’m an idiot. I failed you. I’m so… so… stupid. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” Seokmin screwed his eyes shut, unable to muster the strength to look at what would happen to you now that he failed. Minghao hadn’t specified what would happen if he had failed. Would he send furies to tear you apart? Would he force him to drink poison?  

“No! You’re not an idiot. Don’t be so cruel.” swiping your thumb against his cheek and wiping away his tears. “You’re so brave, coming all the way to rescue me… all because you love me. You failed… because you love me. I’m happy knowing that.” You smiled, knowing the bitter end that was to come to you. They needed to kill you twice for him to let you go. But you had to be strong, for his sake. He was strong enough to challenge the Underworld, the unforgiving end. He was strong enough to face death, his greatest fear, challenging its irreversibility. He was strong enough to defy the laws of nature. The least you could do was comfort him. “I’m so… proud of you.” your touch felt feather light against the heavy mortal flesh weighing him down. “Please… just look at me.”

“But, you’ll be gone!” Seokmin wailed. “I… I’m not strong enough for this! I can’t go on!” 

“You are strong enough. So open your eyes.” your words gently coaxed him. Seokmin inhaled one last time, bracing himself for the horror he was about to witness. As his eyes fluttered open, you were gone as quickly as you had appeared before him. There was no dramatic murder, just a hazy glow left in where you were standing before him. That was how mortality worked, in the eyes of Gods. Mortals come and go on this Earth, in the span of a blink. Mortality, which feels like entering a room and just finding the exit. Mortality, which weighed Seokmin down, and held you in its clutches. It was a signal to him that it was time to wake up from the dream that was you. It was time for him to grow up and to accept mourning the loss of his muse. Falling to his knees, Seokmin sobbed, the noise drowned by the hollow abyss of the Underworld. His voice, which set him apart as a champion of Apollo, was indistinct from the rest of the wailing of the Underworld. 

Maybe you will have a greater fate than him. You will drink from the River Lethe, whose waters flowed through the God of Sleep's cave, causing one to forget the mortal world. Sure, it meant you would forget the blisses and joys you shared above the surface, but it also meant you would forget the pain and sadness. You would wake up, yawning as you ponder the strange figure in your dream named "Seokmin". You would be reborn and would carve a path through the foreign wilderness of the underworld. You would be trapped in a moment, a distant memory of a time of idealistic, passionate, youthful bliss. You would be free. Like you were destined to be. Free from mortal anguish. Free from him. Your skin could never wrinkle, your hair couldn't gray, and your health wouldn't deplete.

Who knows what would have happened if you had returned to him in the mortal realm. Would the love between you dry up? Would your love only be immortalized in a contract, and not in real life? Maybe life will ravage your happy marriage and shred the love that once existed. You would part ways and leave him behind, as you could never truly be his. When would be the last time in your unhappy married life you tell him "I love you"? Would he bar the door when you got sick of him and tried to leave? Would he welcome your newfound hatred of him and show you the way out?

The memory of you would be his prized possession, something to draw inspiration for his music, to know he had the pleasure of experiencing such a love, and to wonder the many possibilities if he were successful in bringing you back. He was fine if you could just stay. It didn't matter if you only stayed in his memory and never talked to him again. But please, stay.

mlist

@noircheols do not copy or translate

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

women in horror

wanted a sapphicnatural anthem so i wrote one <3

this is dedicated to all the women of supernatural, and especially to the people in the fandom who bring them back to life to give them their sapphic happy endings. happy @sapphicnaturalrights sapphicnatural week !!! i tried to hit as many of the prompts as possible in one go <3

lyrics under the cut!

VERSE home alone late at night cold open in the dark light bubble bath, spilling red wine her scream cues the title card

guest appearance, aren't you lucky exposition, keep it clunky mystery isn't the only thing she makes hard

PRE-CHORUS tiny top, thick makeup white and lacy linen lipstick pop, DD cup bloody in your visions oh, she's a woman in horror come and tell me you want her handcuff torn, baby born losing is a given monster turn, crash and burn i know why you're driven oh, she's a woman in horror come and

CHORUS bury your girls bury your gays you like pretty women (yum) but you love your cliches she's coming back wrong i'm making it right once i get my shovel we'll keep you up at night (oh?) we'll keep you up at night (okay)

([british accent] so basically, she- am i american or not? i can't remember. oh. um. [american accent] is this accent okay?)

VERSE bloodthirsty kiss and chase through hell's fire and heaven's grace slow panning shots up to her face (that's hot) that's a wrap on her screentime

credits rolling, she's the last name find a plot hole, give her the blame she's a hot one but it's a shame about her crimes (ew)

PRE-CHORUS tiny top, thick makeup white and lacy linen lipstick pop, DD cup bloody in your visions oh, she's a woman in horror come and tell me you want her handcuff torn, baby born losing is a given (yeah) monster turn, crash and burn i know why you're driven oh, in a fatal genre she's dead cos you (laughter into manic shriek)

CHORUS bury your girls bury your gays you like pretty women but you love your cliches she's coming back wrong i'm making it right (yeah) since i've got my shovel we'll keep you up at night we'll keep you up at night

([american accent] so his girlfriend burns to death, so he wants revenge, but then she comes back to life, like - nonono, his mom comes back to life, because she also burned to death-)

BRIDGE me and bloody mary are getting off in the back of your daddy's car stole your silver bullets, the witches and i making magic, we go so far for women in white for mothers and wives for demons and daughters resurrection time the write to survive she's coming alive for women in horror resurrection time !!!

CHORUS you bury your girls you bury your gays i love all your women and i hate your cliches she's coming back strong i'm making it right now i've got my shovel we'll bury you deep at night we bury you deep at night

[valentine-cafe]

May I order an affogato please?

(Afab)

Just imagining you knew he was coming home tonight and you wanted to surprise him, so you ran to the market and bought every rose you could find, then proceeded to strip the petals to make one of those cliche romance movie moments.

Rose petals are now scattered all over the floor in a mock trail, leading from the front door to your shared bed, where you are the centerpiece spread out in the middle, bare and waiting for him to return home and find his gift.

But it’s been hours and he’s not back yet, and you’re a little sleepy, so maybe just a small nap. You’ll just close your eyes for a second and be even more energized when he gets home.

What happens when he finally arrives home and finds you? How does he react to your gift and effort?

-🎐

˖⁺. ﹙ the charming vampire liuetenant  x gn reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . what a surprise we have here !! 🍒 :  vampire ˖ lieutenant ˖ dilf﹙ verse 781 vespasiano. ﹚

you give him a little surprise when he comes home after deployment cw: cunnilingus

Oh, his poor, sweet darling. He finds you there, in your bed of roses especially for him. All laid and perfect for him, as you usually are. Your naked body reminds him what home truly is. After weeks of deployment — the sight is heavenly.

Of course sheets himself over you like linen. Hands silk along you sides, down your hips. His lips feather upon your neck to your shoulders. How beautiful you are. How pliable.

Vespasiano deeply groans into the crook of your neck at your scent mixed with that of roses. “Tesoro. . . all this for me.” But he is a patient man. He’d rather have your eyes awake and on him. Your hands clawing at his back. While he is tempted, and you have previously consented to such, he would much rather have his darling awake while you both reunite in flesh and soul.

And so he’ll tuck you into the sheets. Drape his large, strong hands around you after chuckling over your cliche little gift.

You’ll wake up to him between your lips. Tongue and mouth worshipping your fluttered walls. Rose petals still strewn all around, only amplified by the glimmer of sun peaking through the blinds.

“Vespasiano,” you call desperately, hand ventured into his hair. In turn he groans, pushing his face closer and meeting his forest eyes to yours. All while his tongue slowly circles around your clit in greeting.

Large hands caress your thighs and he hums into your slick heat. “Mornin’ dollface. . . missed me so much huh?” A long stripe licked up your slit until you cave your head back and gasp. He halts altogether. “Uh-uh, eyes on me. Been gone for three weeks and this’s what I get?” He flicks your clit in reprimand.

You heed earnestly. Locking with his gaze while his open mouth lowers and worships your slick once more. Slow, tender. In every way that speaks the words - ‘I missed you’ right back.

[strawberrystepmom]

cw: mentions of fishing and non-violent methods of killing fish. reader is described as smaller/shorter than law and is wearing a dress. trafalgar law x fisherman f!reader. | word count: 1k, reading time: approx. 4 min.

takes place in the shifting sands verse

It’s a clear, cloudless morning above your island home. 

You’ve risen before the sun, as always. You’ve made your way to the beach, as always. You’ve packed your nets and your knives yet there’s one thing you could not have prepared to bring with you in your wildest dreams.

Trafalgar Law, the mysterious man you seem to keep bumping into no matter how hard you try to avoid him. He was walking the beach with his hands in his pockets when you arrived this morning. Briefly, you contemplated pretending you didn’t see him at all but it goes against your nature to not at least be friendly so you asked him to join expecting a no.

To your surprise, he shrugged his shoulders and gave you an unexpected “why not?”.

Now you’ve set out, two people in one small boat. The waves cause the boat to rock although it’s a gentler motion than the last few weeks have given you. Two weeks ago a monsoon blew through, a week after the lingering winds were nearly too strong to come out at all. 

At least you have a second body to weigh your boat down in case a rogue wind does appear.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

You pose the question lightly, chin digging into your shoulder while you turn your head to look at him. Each time the wooden boat bobs, your body moves in like. Hips shift and feet widen to shoulder width apart on their own after years spent braving these very waters, your beloved lucky net dangling from your forearms.

The sunrise casts just enough light over him that you can make out the faintest hint of a smile. At least you think that’s what you see before you look away, narrowing your eyes to look across the horizon. 

“Nope.”

Sunlight catches the rippling waters, making them sparkle. With a content sigh, you peek over your shoulder again to steal one more glance at him. That smile you imagined still remains. The corners of his lips are upturned just enough that the untrained eye may miss them but not you, ever astute and fixated on every move he makes.

“Then at least keep quiet and don’t distract me,” you tut. 

He rolls his eyes and shifts his position. Long legs are spread wide, feet planted firmly on the ground below him. His fingers are linked to make his hands into a singular fist that rests in the open space. You steal a glance at his forearms, bare as they are, but your bravery leaves and you don’t linger for long.

“I’m not the one taking their own sweet time here.” 

It’s difficult to argue against the truth. Laughing, you turn back toward the water and finally toss your net. The boat rocks stronger than the waves for a moment, slightly disrupting your stance and Law’s hand makes its way to the small of your back. Long, tattooed fingers spread across the linen dress you’re wearing to cover up your bathing suit, sliding from your back to hip to keep you steady.

“I can handle myself.”

The reminder that instinctively leaves your lips makes him smile though you don’t see it, keeping your face forward lest he make out the surprised expression on your face. This isn’t the first time he’s touched you but this is the most intimate, far more so than popping and replacing stitches in the meticulously kept medical ward aboard Polar Tang.

Before you can further contemplate the weight of his fingers so close to your skin, your hips, the curving swell of your backside, your net pulls and you lean forward to reel it in. He leans with you, those long arms and tall stature coming in handy in situations like this, your back cradled by his palm while you bend over. He continues to sit with his legs spread and his feet planted just as firmly as they’ve been, watching you quickly pull the sopping wet fibers into the boat. Fish flop halfheartedly through the weave and you grin excitedly, looking behind you.

For the first time you see the position he’s in, looking up at you with that dark hair blowing around his face. The breath you were taking catches in your throat and you attempt to swallow it, knitting your brows together. The length of his arm still holds you upward, fingers digging into your dress.

“You alright?” 

It feels like a loaded question but you answer it with a nod, looking away to gain some composure.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you mumble and mutter under your breath, bending your knees to squat. The new position finally forces him to drop his hand and lets it dangle while he rests his forearm across his knee. “Thought I saw another boat in the distance.”

It’s not a good lie and both of you know it. Law watched your body shift completely, your face change, your eyes dance across him. What your mouth won’t give away the rest of you always does and he picked up on it early. 

Saying one thing, doing another. Always, always, always.

“Thanks for keeping me steady.” 

Now you’re just saying one thing and meaning another. Fortunately he picks up on the thing you won’t say.

Thank you for touching me. For caring enough to do it gently, to protect me.

“Work on your sea legs and I won’t have to,” he shoots back, raising his eyebrows and groaning while he stretches out.

Laughing, you begin untangling the flopping fish from their captivity to inspect them. The smaller ones are tossed right back out amongst the shimmering seas. The larger ones are stunned using the ice pick that rattles across the floorboards each time the boat shifts while you mentally say a little prayer, thanking the sea and whatever created these gifts for giving them to you.

“Don’t overestimate your importance, doctor.”

You don’t look at him when you say it but he can feel the amusement. His mind can easily conjure the curve of your cheek. He shakes his head, folding his arms over his chest and his feet one over the other, extending them and letting his boots rest next to where your left foot is placed. 

Each of your soles, his and yours, nearly touch.

[sierrawitch]

Celtic Customs: Death

by autumn sierra

In honor of my friend who just recently lost a loved one, and my sister who witnessed a tragic death that she was helpless to prevent, I thought it the proper moment to reflect and write on some Celtic death customs and traditions of remembering passed loved ones.

Scotland

Before burial, the body of recently passed relatives were kept in the home, dressed and in their own beds. Family and friends would throw a celebration in honor of their lives. The Scots view death as an opportunity to both mourn the loss of a soul, but to laugh and be merry in their memory to find balance in contrary. All the furniture in the departed’s home—especially mirrors—would be covered with white linens and everyone would play music, dance, sing, and share stories around the hearth to keep memories alive.

A traditional custom practiced by the older members of the family and community include a plate of salt and a plate of soil laid on the chest of the deceased person. The soil represents the body as a physical vessel, and the salt represent the purity of the soul. It was thought that without this ritual, the ghost would not be able to rest, and would haunt their family.

Another custom was to stay up at night and watch the body, also known as a lykewake. This is now seen as a sign of respect for the deceased, but in olden times people believed that the devil would steal the body of their loved one unless they kept safe watch over it. The youth of the family were given whiskey at the beginning of the night and some tea or beer with bread at some point in the middle of the night, and would take on this responsibility for the family. The watchers would tell stories, reminisce, and sometimes recite verses from the Bible.

It was also considered bad luck to see the body of the recently deceased without touching it. A week of bad dreams would follow unless this superstition was taken seriously.

Our perception of death in the modern world is one of detachment and taboo. Many people are squeamish about even seeing a dead body, much less watching or touching one in the night. But to the Celtic people, death was not a taboo thing which had to be hidden, as it is a natural, inevitable part of being alive.

The pivotal connecting moments of birth and death link the physical and metaphysical worlds to each other. Similar to the thinning of the veil during Samhain, we each witness a thinning of the veil when we are born, and when we die. In death, the spirit of the deceased moves across the veil and into the Otherworld, the lands of gods, sìth (spirits), and the deceased.

Ireland

The Irish are no strangers to pain and loss, having experienced famine, colonization, and poverty over its long history. There are many customs that have been cultivated over generations to venerate and remember the dead which are unique to their culture, but the Irish Wake is one of the most well known funeral traditions around the world.

Most likely giving root to Scottish customs, the tone of an Irish Wake is a time of mourning and celebration. It’s an opportunity to grieve and and honor life as a treasured miracle. Those attending an Irish Wake will participate and music making, singing, and drinking, especially if the deceased was an elderly member of the community, or ill long term. However, in the instance of a young person’s or child’s death, the wakes are much more solemn and respectful of the tragedy. Family and friends meet in the home of the deceased to recount memories together, grieve, and celebrate the life lost.

The exact origins of the Irish Wake are unknown, but it’s believed that it was heavily influenced by elements of Paganism and may have originated with the Ancient Celts. The Celts believed in life after death and thought that when a person died, they then moved onto a better life in the Otherworld. The Ancient Celts saw death only as a means for a new beginning, which is where the festivities come into play.

The Irish Wake incorporates the tradition of watching over the bodies of the deceased, and some say that the term ‘wake’ originates from the Irish tradition. Lit candles were placed closely around the body and tobacco was smoked by male attendees as they stood guard against the potential of the devil seizing the deceased. It was believed that the smoke would help keep malicious spirits at bay and stop the devil from stealing the soul. Clocks were also often stopped at the time of death and mirrors covered to further protect the body, as mirrors can act as portals to other—maybe not so friendly—worlds.

The Afterlife

In ancient Celtic religion, there was a belief in an afterlife in the Otherworld (as mentioned earlier), which is considered almost like a mirror of life on Earth but without disease, pain, and sorrow. This eliminated the aspect of fear when it came to passing on since the soul continues to live following its leaving the head (where it was believed to reside). Prayers were made to the Celtic gods, and sacrifices—both animal and human—food, weapons, and precious items were ritually offered to them to bless and allow safe passage of the deceased to the Otherworld.

The gods played a fairly significant role in the lives of the Ancient Celts as evidenced by their religious practices and the existence of protective amulets and talismans within their tombs. Alongside these, Celtic tombs and burial sites contained a wide range of objects, from tools to jewellery, which prepared the soul for the journey to the Otherworld (similarly to how the Egyptians prepared their deceased for the journey in the Duat).

Cremations & Burials

The Ancient Celts buried the deceased in tombs, and alternatively cremated their bodies, a practice beginning in the early second century. Excarnation was also not uncommon, during which the body was left exposed to the elements for a period and the bones were then either buried or kept for religious ceremony.

Burials of warriors and rulers were often rife with personal belongings and other treasures including weapons, armour, gold jewellery, and even large objects like chariots and waggons. Other common items included tools, extra clothing, grooming equipment, oil lamps, food, drink, eating utensils, and gaming counters, again, in preparation for their journey through the veil.

How do these customs compare to the ones of your culture, and your family?

What is your perception of death in relation to life, and how does it mentally or emotionally affect you?

Are you afraid of death? Why?

If you could personify who or what death is, what would that look like?

I urge everyone to challenge their instilled views of what death is and what it means not only for the people witnessing it, but also for those who go through its process. Many people fear that unknown reality, but it’s something we all share and experience eventually in life. You’re never truly alone. And isn’t that thought a bit comforting?

[15-lizards]

How do you imagine Queen Daenerys style evolution to be? From Essosi influences to slowly accomodate or create a new style?

my real life daughter

I don't think Dany grew up with a particular style, due to being on the run and just wearing whatever she was given by her current host. But when she gets married, she has to wear the Mongolian-inspired garb I headcanon for the Dothraki. For ceremonies and formal gatherings, she wears a heavy and embroidered gown that's hard to move in, along with a horse hair headdress that makes her neck hurt. For more casual days, she wears comfortable leather pants and cotton wrapped robes, finely crafted for her status as Khaleesi. Once Drogo dies and she goes on the worst roadtrip of all time, her once fine clothing has deteriorated to filthy rags in the Red Wastes' heat.

Dany's Qarth fashions are once again her being dressed up by whoever her host is, with no real identity through her clothing. Hm this might be an ongoing theme. My late Roman Republic inspired Qarth how I love you. Long, loose, simply shaped gowns made of thinner material that kept the heat out and a breeze flowing. Delicate crowns and headpieces, with long veils she drapes around her shoulders and waist. So so so many colors and different patterns that keep Dany feeling like a peacock as she is paraded around.

Unfortunately I have lots of ideas about the slaver cities and their clothing, but they include the blending of multiple real life cultures, so there are no actual costumes to go off of, just cool art that I hope u mush together in ur mind :] But for Dany's arrival at Astapor, Yunkai, and Mereen, I think about a combination of ancient middle eastern cultures like Babylonia, Assyria, and ancient Egypt (though I am unfortunately not as well versed in their clothing histories as some other cultures). Dress here is far more complex than in Qarth, with multiple gowns and pieces of clothing wrapped around and tucked into one another, with decorated belts and fringed draperies and heavy jewelry. Dany often feels like she's drowning in it, but is determined to absorb herself into their culture.

And cut to if we ever get Winds and Dany sails for Westeros wearing a combination of the styles she has worn over the years, leather pants and linen tunics and short wrapped gowns, as an accumulation of everything she's learned, but this time she is confident and sure of herself :] though that's just a pipe dream George please release wi

[thefinalehope]

For about the last four months I’ve been working on binding the nights-verse by @widebrimmedhatsblog and I am happy to say I have finished it!

I had a few months of trying to format when I wasn’t working or doing school work. Then in December I finally printed it. It took me two hours and 124 pieces of paper. But it was printed.

After folding and pressing all of the paper I went to my local library’s maker space to use some of their tool. It took me six hours to poke holes and sew up the book.

Then after to holidays I made and connected to cover. Today I finally painted it. Free hand painting on linen is a pain, so it’s not incredibly detailed but it’s done. And I’m very happy with how it turned out!

[ghostwise]

Matacuervos, ch. 8 - La curandera Rated M, 3.2k words - cw: child injury, discussions of trauma and slavery Zevran and Hamal's time in Rialto comes to an end, but they leave behind more questions than answers. Read update on AO3 - Read from the beginning

The door shuddered under Zevran’s fist.

They were standing outside the apartments at La joya. It was late, still dark, though not for long; the night had stretched thinly out into the small hours of the morning. He was tired. His head ached. He wasn’t even sure if this would work. He was also worried that at any given moment the child would wake up.

If the child woke up, surely she would try to flee, as any child ought to when finding herself injured and in the company of strangers. What would they do then?

Giving Hamal a nervous look, Zevran turned to knock on the door once more. In that moment it opened.

Elena stood inside, dressed in a nightgown and overcoat. Her eyes widened in recognition, and she pulled them in at once.

“A doctor,” Zevran said.

“I’ll find the curandera,” Elena replied. “Where did that child come from?”

“We rescued her.”

“What happened to her?”

“Stunned,” he said. “By a mage.”

“I take it that means you found the man you were looking for?”

“He is dead.”

Without yesterday’s host of prostitutes and friends, the parlor felt spacious, even empty. Elena led them to a small bedroom in the back. It was a tidy room with the smell of dried jasmine flowers, an old bed, and a votive to Andraste upon the dresser.

“Sangre del Creador,” she exclaimed.

Hamal carefully set the child upon the bed. He placed a hand on her forehead, then looked up at Zevran with a frown. “She has a fever,” he said. “Fiebre.”

“There is water in the kitchen,” Elena said curtly. “Bring her some!”

“Where-?” Zevran began to ask, but Elena had already whisked her way out of the bedroom. He followed at her heels.

“Left of the wash basin,” she replied. “Stay here! I’ll be back soon with the healer!”

The door slammed shut in her haste. Zevran stared after her a moment, then set upon the drawers.

He dug through wooden spoons and matchsticks, rolls of twine, and linen washcloths folded neatly. Grabbing one, he quickly arranged a washcloth and a bowl of cool water, then returned to the bedroom, where Hamal knelt beside the bed and gazed upon the injured child.

“Why is she so warm?” Hamal asked as Zevran held the damp cloth to her forehead. “Is she sick?”

“Head injuries can cause temperature sometimes,” Zevran murmured. “She will be alright.”

The words came out in practiced calm. He did not give them any thought; he was simply saying what people ought to say in these situations. When he glanced down at his husband, he was surprised to find him kneeling with his eyes shut and his head bowed. For a moment, he thought he was praying to the Creators. Then he realized he was shivering.

Zevran eased a hand onto his shoulder. He was not surprised when Hamal reached, haltingly, to cover it with one of his own.

.

Elena was gone for a good half hour, though she ran as quickly as she could the distance between the brothel and the neighborhood healer. The healer was accustomed to being roused at night, or whenever a local emergency called for her skills. She had lived in her apartment for decades, and had looked after the whores at La joya even longer.

The old woman was not an apostate—though such people did exist, they were hard to come by, and Antiva’s Circle mages provided healing only to the most privileged noble families—but she was versed in old knowledge of medicinal herbs and traditional remedies. She had lived a long and varied life, and carried all that knowledge inside her withered frame. So when she said she needed time to gather her supplies, Elena fretted and wrung her hands, but allowed her to take as long as she needed.

One did not argue with Mirna the curandera.

When they finally returned the child was awake, and had begun to vomit. Zevran had found a bucket to contain the bile, as Hamal held her hair back and helped her stay upright. But their business was not in healing, and the only tools they had were their arrows and knives.

“She has been like this for a few minutes,” Zevran said. “We do not have anything to give her-”

“A mage’s concussive blast,” the older woman murmured in her deep and dry voice. “Arnica for the pain. Rabo de zorro for the fever. Ice for the swelling. Prayer for the rest. Allow me.”

She stepped in smoothly, pushing the men out of the way in a manner that was somehow kind, yet brooked no argument. And while Zevran would hesitate to admit it, it was a relief.

“Thank the Maker,” he sighed, and dropped into a seat by the curtained window.

It was in the healer’s hands now. His own headache had worsened. Now he rather felt like a stiletto knife had driven into his skull.

The curandera’s voice, arid as the high-wind season, cut through his mental haze: “Brew a strong tea, with just a scoop of these herbs and a kettle full of water. One cup for the girl, two for the man.”

“Smells like snakeweed,” Hamal observed in Common. “I did not know we had this sort of plant up here. It will help your headache.”

“I’m fine. Just tend to the girl,” Zevran murmured.

Elena shot both of them an incisive glance. But she made the tea as instructed, leaving them to their foreign conversing.

After that, no one spoke for a while. There was o nly the sound of the child heaving and a kettle whistling on the wood stove. Somehow the candle-lit night in Elena’s apartment cradled these, and everything felt quiet. It was hard to believe that at this very moment Rocio could be on her way to a jail cell…

Zevran felt a cup of hot tea pressed into his hands.

“Elena,” he said, and then he paused, uncharacteristically uncertain. He looked up at her, frowning. Perhaps he was more dazed than he realized. “It is Elena, isn’t it? We spoke so briefly. I must tell you. Rocio-”

“Where is she?” Elena asked in a hiss.

Zevran hesitated. He always recognized affection by the fangs it bared.

“By now she is probably turning herself over to the city guard.”

“Why? What happened?”

Zevran glanced at Hamal. Still, he knew it had to be him to tell the tale; Hamal’s Antivan was not fluent enough to explain, and their window of time was shrinking. But he was also unsure how much he should say. He was wondering about the woman at the head of the bed, the curandera, who was easing tea into the young girl’s mouth.

“Some gall you have to bring an injured child to my doorstep in the dead of night,” Elena said, voice unexpectedly sharp, “and play coy in front of the healer. Talk!”

“You’re right, of course,” Zevran said, sufficiently chastised. “My apologies.”

So he began. He spoke slowly, trying to condense the tale as much as possible, both for the sake of urgency and for his own aching head.

“We tracked the slaver and attempted to capture him outside the brothel, El milagro. He had an arrangement with the owner there… to transport two children under the guise of bringing them to a school in Salle. We confronted him… wounded him, and we nearly succeeded in capturing him, but the man was an apostate. He used his magic to escape. Rocio was the one who finally stopped him, and killed him.”

“I don’t understand.” Elena shook her head. “There’s more to it, there must be. She is not a violent woman!”

“No,” Zevran assented. “But she is a brave one.”

Elena made a frustrated sound, turning away.

“She recognized him as the man who’d stolen her friends away, years ago,” Zevran said. “I recognized him, also. He has been plying his trade in Rialto for decades.” He shook his head. “No longer. Rocio did what was necessary. After that, she could have easily chosen to claim her innocence. But she realized that she needed to admit her hand in this murder, in order to expose his crimes.”

“So she’s playing martyr,” Elena said bitterly.

“She needs your help.” Zevran paused again, somewhat unsteady. At Hamal’s urging, he drank some of the snakeweed tea. It quelled his headache some, and parched a thirst he hadn’t recognized with everything else going on.

Meanwhile, Elena grappled with what she’d heard.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“Rocio wants to bring the people who are behind all this to justice,” Zevran said. “Not only this man, but whatever allies he might have; we discovered that the owner and manager of El milagro are involved. And who knows how many others. Rocio has asked that you keep the child safe, and tell everyone in the Society of Pleasures what has happened. Tomorrow you will receive a visit from a woman, Nadia. She is trustworthy. She will tell you more. Lastly,” he added, and this was the tricky part, the part he was dreading, “You must not mention me or my companion. To anyone.”

“Why not?” Elena demanded.

“Because I was once a member of the Antivan Crows. I have deserted my House. Now I aim to destroy the Crows and anyone who supports them. So you see… our association would only harm her.”

She stared at him.

The admission felt bold, after all he had been through tonight. At least it had served to quell Elena’s myriad of questions.

“It’s curious,” Zevran continued. “When we came to Rialto, we thought only to investigate my past. Then, to kill the man who had sold me into that life. We did not intend for all of this to happen… and yet we do not regret it. We have rescued a child! She is safe now, thanks to Rocio, and Nadia, and you. But we cannot be a part of what happens next. That falls to you and the others.”

“And what are you going to do, Crow?” Elena asked, still aiming her furious gaze at him.

“That is something you are better off not knowing,” Zevran said. “It will be bloody work.”

With a flare of her nostrils, Elena exhaled harshly. She looked at him one last time with a withering intensity, before dropping her face into her hands and releasing a shuddering sigh.

“Cio,” she said simply.

With that, the message was delivered. Zevran drank the rest of his tea.

Though he felt no guiltier than he had yesterday, or a week ago, or his entire life, he couldn’t help but feel bad for Elena. He’d tasked her with a great burden. He tried to comfort himself by thinking that Elena had a say in the matter. But she didn’t. None of them did.

“As I said,” Zevran said, gently. “Nadia will come. Hear her out, then decide. You can, if you prefer, have nothing to do with all this.” He said it even as he knew it was impossible. It was clear that Elena had no choice, not when Rocio was involved.

Much like himself with the Warden, he thought. The comparison felt tender, and he looked at Hamal, finding a sense of relief in the steady and attentive gaze he was met with.

Sensing his meaning, Hamal responded with a stern nod. Then, he rose to his feet and picked up their rucksacks, looking at the door.

“We will go now,” Hamal said in gentle and accented Antivan. “Thank you for the tea.”

Mirna, who had calmed the child’s illness and fever and had been listening quietly all this while, turned her attention back to the adults in the room.

“Sit down, Elena,” she said gently. “You have a lot to think about. I will walk your guests out.”

Thus depleted of anger, Elena sat at the edge of the bed. After all, one did not argue with the curandera.

.

As Mirna walked Zevran and Hamal towards the front door, she tugged gently at Hamal’s sleeve. She addressed him in rusty Common, quiet, so only he and Zevran would hear.

“Ey. You Fereldan? Dalish?”

Hamal blinked in surprise. He did not answer until they had left the apartment entirely, until they were all three standing in the cool morning air, with the warm apartment and the weeping child and Elena’s worry shut within, and the first signs of dawn visible over the city. He exchanged a glance with Zevran before nodding.

“How did you know?” he replied.

“Mirna know everything,” she said with a smile. “A wild story, I bet. And what about you, güero? Was you said is true?”

“All of it,” Zevran affirmed.

“Mmm!” she hummed, impressed and full of approval. “In that case, I wish you luck. Crows are big deal. But! You should know, you forgotting something.” She tapped her right ear a few times. When Zevran did not understand, she sighed. “The girl!”

“The girl,” Zevran repeated, and then Mirna’s gesture made sense. His eyes widened. “She heard everything.”

“Yes,” Mirna said. “She hear. But she no speak. She try. Just one time, while you all talking. She-” Here, Mirna made a wordless opening and closing motion with her mouth, held a hand to her throat, then she spread her hands outward to indicate futility. “She no speak. Maybe, soon. Who can say?”

“Poor child,” Hamal said.

“Yes,” Mirna agreed. “But no worry. I will help. You come back someday and see.”

“Do you think it’s wise?” Zevran asked, surprised. They were leaving a lot of loose ends and unanswered questions. But Rialto was in his blood. That he’d return one day, even if it was years from now, seemed unavoidable. Maybe Mirna knew this. After all, she spoke with such a calm certainty.

“Wait some while, then come back,” she told him. “Maybe Elena’s ladyfriend is free then. Maybe girl speak then. Maybe we talk more then, or maybe I’m dead then! But until then, I pray for you. I light a candle.” She paused, gnarled hands producing a small leather pouch out of her pocket. “Take more tea. For the ache.”

Zevran regarded her carefully. “My good woman, thank you. It occurs to me that we do not even know your name.”

“Mirna,” she said, and then, before he could respond, “No no—you no tell me yours. Bad luck.”

Zevran nodded. He took the pouch from her, and he didn’t argue.

“Maker be with you, Doña Mirna.”

“And with you. Maker and Creators, too.”

.

It was only after several hours of travel, long after the last of Rialto’s towers was out of view, that the fleeing pair finally allowed themselves to rest.

They had followed the coastline south for a time, before pushing further inland so as to be obscured by the forest. While Zevran knew Antiva like the back of his hand, this was true of its cities and its people; the only wilderness he had explored was the Drylands.

But that was another tale. Come to find out, Rialto was surrounded by grassy plains and gnarled trees. The city was nestled near a perfect broadleaf forest, completely unlike those in Ferelden.

Under the shade of a tall sycamore, Hamal judged it safe enough to light a small fire. With its heat they brewed more tea, and roasted freshly-caught fish rubbed with sea salt and herbs. They were both famished, their last meal having been tavern gruel more than a full day before.

Hamal worked silently for a time, wholly focused on turning the fish against the fire. Zevran wondered if he was in one of his quiet moods; it was fine, if so. He himself had a lot on his mind. So much so that, when Hamal did speak, it surprised him.

“Ma serannas, vhenan,” Hamal said at length.

Zevran looked at him. “Whatever for?”

“You know.”

In fact, he did.

It was a shorthand they were developing together, and it felt terribly domestic. Love was sticky sweet. Sometimes like honey, sometimes like resin. Hamal understood Zevran’s disappointment. He didn’t need to ask and Zevran didn’t need to say it.

But his head still hurt, so he changed the subject.

“We still have the documents I found in Antiva City,” he said, forcing his voice to stay level. “And ledgers I copied from El milagro’s books, when I interrogated Amilcar. We should search them for clues as to what to do next. I think all signs point to Salle as our next destination. It’s a port city. Worth investigating if only for that reason.”

“Good idea,” Hamal said with a slow nod. Zevran glanced away.

The fish curled and charred in the fire, their scales scalding, their eyes whiting out and bulging.

“I wonder,” Hamal said, quietly, “What Nadia will do.”

Zevran closed his eyes with a sigh.

“She still cares for Amilcar,” he said. “Whether Amilcar cares for her is another matter. The heart is an unpredictable thing. In any case, from here on out we must assume that Amilcar reported our involvement to the city guard.” Zevran frowned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “That means they would know me by name and by background… and what the city guard knows, the Crows know.”

“Not good,” Hamal observed.

Zevran snorted. “It is far from ideal.”

“Unless Nadia goes through with it,” Hamal countered. “Unless she kills Amilcar.”

And there was the unpredictable variable, and the most pressing question: For it had been decided, whispered in that midnight plot outside El milagro, that Gloria Amilcar needed to die in order for their plan to succeed. And Nadia had insisted that she would be the one to do it

And why not? Amilcar had lied to her and the others for years. She had helped sell children into slavery. She had supported her employer’s corruption. And those were just the crimes they knew of. No doubt she had committed countless others over the years…

Zevran sighed and covered his face in his hands.

Hamal came to sit beside him. He leaned against him, and took his hands into his own.

“Eat,” Hamal instructed. He handed Zevran a leaf containing steaming flakes of cooked fish. The scent was sharp and enticing. Hamal had already pulled all the bones out for him, leaving only soft flesh.

Touched by the gesture, Zevran allowed himself to eat. Then tears sprang to his eyes.

“She killed my father,” he said suddenly.

Hamal looked at him, stunned. “What-?”

“Amilcar. He did not die, as I’d been told. Braska.” Zevran took a shuddering breath, and the words poured out of him in a tangled mess.

He’d been holding them back this whole time, his attention absorbed by other matters.

“That is why she kicked us out the first day we were in El milagro. That is why she seemed so anxious when she recognized me. You see? It was guilt! She told me as such, when I interrogated her.” A bitter laugh escaped him, his face turned up to the dappled sunlight. “I nearly ended her when she admitted it. Rossi tasked the Crows with my father’s death, and Amilcar knew! My whole life, she knew!”

“Oh,” Hamal breathed. “Oh. Zev.”

“I only wish I could go back and find that bastard. Confront him! Show him what became of the boy he orphaned and sold! But look! If he dies now, Rocio will never get justice! So, he lives! Because he must! And I am still here, still orphaned, and no better for knowing the truth. Ah! What a joke it all is,” Zevran lamented, sorrowful even as Hamal embraced him. “What a joke.”