#so i've just been letting these recent desires burn out

[butterflydm]

some thoughts on spirits (DAV)

I feel like the game has done a good job making Rook feel like someone with natural leadership abilities. And while I do love the companions in the previous games, I feel like DAV's companions are my favorites (at least currently; entirely possible that a replay of the older games would make me feel different!).

I also really like the different dynamics between Rook and their companions. Just... idk good vibes.

Also, here is Rook being very relatable for me:

I am just really loving all the characters so much -- Lucanis stole my heart as my favorite (he's my 'personal demon' now in the character screen lol) but I'm very attached to all of my companions. I love how the game has made it easier to know when they have something new to say, and I like that they distinguish between 'conversations' and 'outings' in the companion quest section. I've really been enjoying getting to know them and I feel like this game has done a really good job appropriately gating dialogues and areas.

It feels like they found a good compromise between 'open world' and 'mission-based game'. Each of the areas feels really big but it's also gated in natural ways that get unlocked as the story goes on, so you can't bum-rush the Crossroads and do literally everything the first time you're there, for example. In DAI, I would sometimes have to impose my own pacing to make sure that things flowed well for me, and I haven't needed to do that with DAV.

One thing that leaving the Fereldan/Orlais area did is really let us get to know a lot of mages who don't have the same sense of shame and self-hate that mages are taught in the Chantry of southern Thedas (or the even more extreme way they are treated by the Qunari!). We got hints of this approach in earlier games, but getting to dive more in-depth into several cultures who do not have the same "let's toss all the mages into prison" approach to magic that southern Thedas has has been very illuminating! Obviously we've always had exceptions like the Dalish clans, but they were very much depicted as deliberately on the outskirts of society, and going against the Chantry-defined norm.

And to contrast, in DAV, I recently had a long conversation with Emmrich on the potential merits of lichdom! Basically an unthinkable conversation in either Ferelden or Orlais. Nevarra doesn't burn their dead and they don't have such a deep fear of the dead, demons, or magic itself. And it really just to illustrate how much the oppression of mages that was so much at display in the Circles is just... nonexistent in places like Nevarra. The oppression is cultural and it's religious -- it's not actually something that's necessary to 'keep magic in check'. (which, yeah, is obvious from the outside, but always nice to have reinforcement from the actual games!)

I'm also watching a let's play of DAI on the side and the person just got to Solas and Cole's personal quests and, yeah, they resonant so hard after the additional Solas revelations in DAV. And it really does feel so much like DAV is in a strong conversation with DAI (as makes sense). Solas and Varric are talking about Cole but Solas is also talking about himself.

Varric: "A spirit who is strangely like a person!"

Varric: "He came into this world to be a person. Let him be one."

Solas: "We cannot change our nature by wishing it." Varric: "You think?"

Solas: "You would alter the essence of what he is." Varric: "He did that to himself when he left the Fade."

[if Cole is made more spirit]

Varric: "...could have been a person." Solas: "Would that have made him happier?"

Is Solas's endgame becoming a spirit again? Or has he experienced and changed too much? (would it make him happier? is that a desirable goal?) Is it all a matter of perspective? Cole approves of the Inquisitor's choice whether they make him more of a spirit or more human. I feel like Solas would lose a lot of himself if he became a spirit again, but maybe that's a matter of perspective too.

And then Solas's DAI quest is all about dealing with the damage of a Wisdom Spirit being corrupted against its purpose -- the same kind of Spirit that Solas once was. Wisdom vs Pride (but once you're a person and not a spirit, you can be filled with both at the same time).

DAV is really making me want to do another run of DAI, and take Solas literally everywhere, lol. But the conversation about spirits in the 'real' world didn't start there either -- it started back in DAO, with Wynne. It continued in DA2, with Anders. Both DAO and DA2 are more 'standard' than what we get in DAI with Cole, in the sense that they were possessing a body (though with permission) but it's still part of the same conversation.

But the conversation really did explode into something bigger in DAI, with Cole as a spirit who was with us without possessing a body, and with learning that being briefly possessed can reverse Tranquility (via Cassandra's quest). And now, with what had been confirmed in DAV, we know that a spirit that takes mortal form can, over the generations, become mortal, as that's what the ancient elves did, so Cole could have kids who were fully mortal, maybe. And Cole did it without using lyrium (and thus taking something from the Titans to fuel himself) -- at least as far as I understand.

I am also finding myself very curious about where humans come from -- we know that the ancient elves were once spirits; we know that the dwarves are fragments of the Titans. Where did humans come from? Evolution? Or is there a magical answer for them too? Is the Maker a spirit and/or Titan who created humans specifically?

(I think it's implied that Qunari were genetically/magically engineered in some way, and possibly crossbred with dragons somehow?? iirc DAI correctly)

I'm really looking forward to removing my filters on DA-related stuff and reading other people's thoughts. I've covered my eyes and clicked on posts a couple of times so far and have been rewarded by mostly getting fanart and not spoilers, lol. Mostly.

I genuinely have zero critiques of the game so far, if anyone was wondering if I was just holding some back or whatever. I like the quality of life changes they made to a lot of little things like companion banter; I never had an issue with the art style*; and I'm enjoying the story and characters as they unfold.

(*I know that was a big thing with a lot of people but, confession time: I genuinely can barely tell a difference between DAI and DAV's 'art style'. You can change Qunari hairstyles separate from horns now in the character creator? People walk less awkwardly than in DAI? The menus are purple instead of green? idk, maybe my brain just doesn't register whatever it is that makes DAV so different, art-wise?)

I also love that I can literally just throw myself at boxes to break them open to get materials. It's so satisfying. I have a griffon that I can pet. idk, I guess I'm just a simple girl with simple desires. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Looking forward to playing more this weekend!

Current progress note: a Dalish clan (at least one) has been kidnapped for potential blood sacrifices, so trying to rescue them is my next main quest. I'm about eighty hours into the game.

[hardware-sparks]

burning up my desire to go out with a bang and burn bridges by just letting it fester and do nothing 👍

[halsteadlover]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬?

*Gifs not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: you and Hotch have occasional rendezvous but each time you promise it’ll be the last even if neither of you seems to be able to stop.

• Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t be like them you guys wrap it if you want to use it!!!), cursing, dirty talk, oral sex m. receiving, basically porn with no plot lol

• Word count: 1824.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ MINORS STAY AWAY. I hope you like this, let me know what you think. Comment, reblog and like if you want and as always thank you so much for your support.

“Oh fuck Hotch you feel so good…-” you moaned loudly as you kept riding him on his chair. Your shaking thighs burned, your aching knees pressing against on his chair as his dick thrusted deeper and deeper inside you.

His hands were gripping your hips as he accompanied your movements, grunting and trying to remain silent while his fingers pressed against your skin so hard they left marks on it.

He let go of your hip and covered your mouth when another groan escaped your lips, making your moans become just muffled sighs. “Shut up, you don't want them to hear us do you?”.

You shook your head, biting into his palm as you placed your hands on the arms of his chair for support while letting yourself get rocked by the immense pleasure he was giving you.

It was a mistake.

You knew it was.

But God what a beautiful mistake.

You couldn't help it.

Since the day you and Hotch ended up in bed one night after a case and a few drinks, you didn’t stop having these rendezvous, neither of you could help it. Every time you promised yourselves it’d be the last, but it was enough to find yourselves close, or your eyes to meet during the discussion of a case, or for some reason his hand to casually caress yours to break this promise.

You were just like a drug for each other. From that first dose you had that night, you could no longer go without that feeling of euphoria and pure ecstasy the sex gave you.

Aaron Hotchner was the most sinful thought that crossed your mind, the forbidden thing you always craved and God did you love it.

Maybe it was the fact you were a BAU agent and he was your boss, maybe it was the thrill of being discovered, maybe it was the taste of the forbidden – hell, what would the FBI have said if they knew the upright boss of the behavioral analysis unit was breaking the rules that he himself continually reiterated to his agents?

This, however, didn't stop either of you, indeed it was as if all this was fuel thrown on the fire, passion and desire you already felt.

At first you both managed to keep that passion at bay, having occasional sex in hotel rooms when you were out of town for a case. But the more time passed, the more difficult it became to suppress everything, to hide that you wanted to rip each other’s clothes off every minute of the day.

And that's why you found yourself in his office that evening, fucking near his desk while there were still some colleagues still in the bullpen.

“God I've been thinking about you and this damn skirt all day… Fuck… You’re irresistible,” he muttered, his eyes scanning your figure sitting on him as his dick fucked your wet pussy.

He was completely mesmerized.

Your skirt was rolled up around your hips, the sheer black stockings you were wearing until recently had been ripped by Hotch in the heat of passion, your panties were thrown to the floor, your shirt unbuttoned and your bra moved as your breasts popped out and bounced to the rhythm of your motion.

You looked like a fucking goddess.

The walls of your pussy started to clench around his dick, making him twitch inside you, your hips stuttering as you felt your orgasm building more and more. It was as if your body was going through convulsions and you couldn't control it, you just wanted and desired that intense pleasure that only Aaron Hotchner was able to give you.

He wrapped his lips around your breast, sucking and licking your nipple as you threaded your hands into his hair and pulled it. You bit your lower lip in an attempt to keep at bay the moans and gasps you was struggling to keep quiet.

“Just like that, oh yeah just like that you feel so good Hotch,” you whispered in a gasp, rolling your eyes and head back. His tongue licked your skin, from your breasts, then moving up your collarbone to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin until he left a mark.

Hotchner wasn't one for hickeys, he wasn't one for office sex in the workplace, he wasn't one for quickies, he wasn't one to break the rules that he himself had set but you managed to break down every single part of his barrier, you managed making him lose control in a way that he loved and hated at the same time, you managed to unleash emotions in him that he had never even felt in his life.

You were hurricane.

You were storm.

You were addiction.

And he couldn't get enough of you, never.

“Shit, fuck,” he cursed, biting and licking the skin of your shoulder as his thumb began drawing imaginary circles on your clit making your muscles tense even more and your movements more erratic. You almost had a heart attack from the intense pleasure that flowed through your veins. “God princess you ruin me.”

A breathtaking orgasm hit over you without any other warning like a raging river, making you dizzy and see stars. Your vision went blurry for a few moments, making you even forget you were in your boss' office and someone could actually hear you.

You tried to catch your breath but at that very moment there was a knock on the door, making both you and Hotch freeze in place, his hard dick still inside you. You exchanged a panicked look.

“Just one second.” Aaron had responded after clearing his throat and then continuing talking to you in a whisper, “Get under the desk.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off his legs, which had turned to jelly as you bent down and picked up your panties. You settled under the desk between his legs while he quickly tried to fix his hair and button up his shirt. He stood up and put on his pants, leaving them loose without bringing them up to his hips.

“Come in.”

Your heart was beating so wildly you could hear the pounding in your ears. You stayed paralyzed under the desk, too afraid to even breathe.

The door opened and you recognized Agent Anderson's voice. “I brought the Porters' case report from five days ago Agent Hotchner.”

He nodded, his expression completely serious and professional as he pretended to fill out a file he didn't even remember at the moment.

“Thank you Agent Anderson, leave it on my desk.”

Despite the fear of being discovered, however, you couldn't contain your excitement and the thought of driving him crazy couldn't leave your mind. You placed a hand on his inner thigh, trailing your fingers along his crotch with sensuality.

Aaron almost had a heart attack when you quietly pulled his underwear off enough for his dick to pop out again, still wet and damp from your fluids and you wrapped your hand around it, starting to jerk him off with slow, controlled pace.

“Agent Hotchner there was a thing about this case I wanted to ask you about…” Agent Anderson had asked.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Hotch nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk, his lips pressed together because he was afraid if he opened them only moans would come out.

Your hand increased its speed and Hotch let out a deep sigh as he leaned back in his chair, about to have a heart attack right then and now.

He looked at Anderson, he heard him talking but his brain couldn't process a single word he was saying, too focused on trying to keep a serious expression and not let on that there was a woman under his desk who was masturbating him.

But the final blow came when you wrapped your lips around his dick, taking it all in your mouth and tasting yourself on it. He let out a small moan which immediately covered with a cough, thanking god Anderson was too caught up in whatever he was saying to notice.

His hand reached below the desk and into your hair, pulling it harshly and making you almost moan at the sensation. This caused you to pick up your pace and Hotch didn't know whether to hate you or not at that moment.

He wanted you to stop.

But also for you to keep going because that fucking mouth of yours was pure ecstasy.

“Are you okay, agent Hotchner?” Anderson stopped at a certain point, noticing the way Hotchner continued to move in his chair and the blush on his cheeks.

“Y-yes, I apologize...” Hotch breathed out. “Lord,” he almost let out a groan which he tried to mask with another cough. “I’m not feeling very well these days. C-can…” he stopped again, swallowing another moan. “We’ll talk about t-this tomorrow Anderson. Excuse me.”

You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself, feeling victorious for making the always-so-serious SSA Aaron Hotchner a complete mess.

His thighs started to shake, his fingers still pulling your hair as you licked his dick, leaving a long string of saliva on his tip. You wrapped your lips around him again and a hand around the base, jerking him off while simultaneously taking it in your mouth. Your other hand rested on his thigh, pressing your nails on his hot skin.

Your mouth felt like heaven and it didn't take long for the orgasm to start building again after it was interrupted.

“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry. Get well soon then, g-good night agent Hotchner.” Anderson replied and jumped to his feet before mumbling some more nonsense and exiting the office, closing the door behind him.

Hotch let out a particularly deep sigh and rested his head on the edge of his chair as he continued to mercilessly fuck your mouth.

“You fucking little slut, you really can't help yourself huh?” He groaned, looking back at you. His grip around your hair tightened, forcing your head down and making you gag. “My needy little whore, look at you chocking on my dick… Fuck you’re gonna make me come.”

How could he make such derogatory names so damn sexy?

It didn't take long for Hotch to explode into an intense orgasm inside your mouth, not letting your head go until he watched you swallow every single damn drop of his cum.

He exhaustedly leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he waited for his breathing to calm down.

He took your hands and helped you out from under the desk, letting you sit on his lap and kissing you until taking your breath.

He gave you a sweet little kiss on your forehead, caressing your cheek with a thumb, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “You'll be the death of me sooner or later, agent Y/Ln.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria

Aaron Hotchner tag list: @mrs-ssa-hotch, @s1lverhand, @novabckly, @thatcrimeshowchick

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[sonamytrash]

Midnight

Underground Virgin!Levi x Virgin!Femreader

MDNI

Warnings: y/n used, Childhood friends to lovers, fluff, smut, puberty mentioned, masturbation mentioned, fingering, sex, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, mentions of prostitution, characters ages aren't mentioned, but it's suggested they're both in their late teens, of age when writing but could be interpreted as underage? Virgin levi, virgin reader.

Note: Kind of wanted to write something about Levi losing his virginity and give him the blessing of something in his life that wasn't all bad. Reader and Levi have grown up together. Feelings have blossomed, and desires have been ignited over the years. The underground is a tough place to live with sex and violence everywhere. There's no smut in the first chapter, but it is heavily suggestive. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

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

In a world where the sun never shines, where the only light comes from flickering Street lights, candles, and the occasional spark from a fire, three souls found solace together in front of a fire. The underground city was a maze of dimly lit tunnels, cramped living quarters, and a constant struggle for survival. You had grown up together, survived together, and lived together in this harsh, unforgiving environment.

Your landlord was a cruel and greedy man, having come to you the with news that he wanted his rent earlier than usual, probably because he owed someone else the money or had pissed his own money up the wall. You couldn't afford to be out on the streets again. It wasn't hard to find a crook to rent a small apartment to three teenagers. But his terms were unreasonable.

Desperation and stress hung heavy in the air. You were usually the type to try and remain cheery, strong, and resilient, but these sorts of situations made you anxious. Finding money down here was hard enough, but being given less time to find it was so much more stressful. "I-I don't know what we're going to do," you stammered. "There has to be some way to make the money quickly." Furlan said thoughtfully as he tried to reassure you, but even his words sounded hollow. It really wasn't much time to get the money together.

You were always aware of the easiest way for a girl to make money down here. Selling your body to some piece of shit man to use for pleasure. It was quick and easy cash that much was true. If you were lucky enough to get paid, that is. The attempt to make any money that way came with many risks. Most women down here lived in fear of getting raped, abused, and even killed before the added risk of being a working girl. Having grown up with Levi and Furlan, they had kept you safe. Currently, you worked a part-time job at the morgue, which didn't pay well but allowed you to learn and study to some extent. But in recent years, since hitting puberty and developing into a young woman, the pressure had been more intense, men often offering plenty of money for the opportunity to have their way with you. Although this sort of interaction would result in being beaten to a pulp by Levi, he would die before he allowed you to have to resort to sex work. And you were grateful for that. The thought of having to resort to prostitution, a common but desperate measure, filled you with dread.

Levi, said nothing. He just stared at the floor, his jaw tightening with anger. You glanced at him, concerned. "Levi, if we need the money I can-" You asked softly, stopping when you saw him look up at you, his eyes burning with a fierce protectiveness. "I'm not going to let you do that," he said, his voice steady and unyielding.

You frowned. "It will guarantee us the money."

"Y/N" He said sternly. "I won't let you go out there and sell yourself for us to survive. I'll find another way. I promise." You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty, but found none. There was only determination.

You nod in response, feeling reassured for now by his words. "I've got to go out. I'll be back around midnight, okay?" He states. Again, this wasn't uncommon. You worried about him and where he was going but even if you asked he wouldn't have told you. Criminal and immoral are the exact words that he himself would've used to describe his work, he was probably going to go and find some quick and easy job, guaranteed to pay but always carried so many risks. Furlan smiles gently at you as he follows Levi out of the door.

Having had a bath and tidied up a little. You toss and turn in bed for hours, lost in your own thoughts. You knew Levi would keep you safe to an extent, but nothing was guaranteed down here. Even if you didn't end up in a brothel, there was nothing stopping anyone from breaking into the apartment you shared now while the boys were gone, you could he kidnapped, raped and murdered any night, or day for that matter. You shudder at the thought. You wanted as much of your life to be in your own hands and control as possible. It wasn't like you wanted to stay a virgin forever, while still being young, you were old by the standards of the underground, which made you laugh. You wanted your first time to be something you choose, not something taken from you. You had desires and thoughts late at night like this when you were alone. Always of your stoic companion. You weren't sure when your feelings towards him became romantic, but it frightened you. He was difficult to read, but you were sure that there could be something there. And if there wasn't? Well, you were sure you could convince yourself that you would be satisfied to just be by his side in whatever capacity the universe will allow. Maybe you would be fortunate enough to be born as a princess in the next life, and he would be your Prince charming. You roll your eyes and laugh at the thought. A girl could dream, and your fantasy of prince's, pretty dresses and castles, however impossible it was did help you to fall asleep for a few hours before you were abruptly awoken by the sound of Levi and Furlan returning. You could recognise the sound of Furlans footsteps retiring to his small room at the end of the corridor. It sounded like Levi was still in the living room. You sit up in bed and light a candle.

Levi walks over to your door, having noticed the light emitting from beneath. A heavy sigh escapes him, his eyes carrying a look of exhaustion. As he knocks on your door just once, his voice is soft.

"Can I come in?"

You respond with a sleepy yes, and Levi pauses for a moment before he comes into the room. His eyes shift to your bed, and he realizes that you're only wearing a tank top and underwear. He doesn't let his eyes roam over you for more than a second, trying to focus on something else in the room before speaking up, sounding worried:

"Are you alright? Why aren't you sleeping?"

You smile. "I was, and I wasn't, I fell asleep not long ago, but I heard you come home. Is everything okay?" You ask him concerned.

Levi nods as he sits down on the edge of your bed.

"Yeah, everything is fine. Sorry if I woke you up. You should get back to sleep." He smiles softly, something only you and you alone are ever lucky enough to see. You gently tug his arm. "Stay, just for a little longer." A blush creeping across your cheeks. This was a bold move for you. Maybe you were still slightly delirious from having just woken up.

Levi looks down at your hand as it lays on his arm. A slight blush creeps up on his cheeks as he looks up at you again. Your messy hair, dreary eyes, and smile are just too cute. He doesn't know what he would do without you. He hates that he can't find a way to get you all out of this cesspit. You're like the moon that continues to shine on the darkest night. He's already resided himself to do anything to keep you safe and by his side. He feels guilty that this sight of you is making his cock twitch. The years have been kind to you and you're such a beautiful young woman now, each and every night his hand is tightly gripped around his cock at the thought of you. Seeing you like this, the covers barely covering your panties and your nipples visible through your tank top is all the more fuel for his desires. But he knows how it is for girls down here, he saw what life was like for his mother, he sees it daily in the streets. He would never dream of treating you with anything but the respect you deserve. Not only that, but the thought of jeopardising the relationship that you have now should he tell you how he feels, loosing you would really plummet his life into eternal darkness.

He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I can stay for a little bit." He says softly. "Since you're such a brat if you don't get your own way." He teases.

You pout playfully at him, he chuckles as he shifts a bit closer to you, now sitting next to you with his arm around your shoulder, you nestle into his chest. A slight blush appears on his cheeks, which he immediately hides by turning his face away from you. "You're not still worrying about the money, are you? Is that why you're acting so needy?." He asks quietly

You shake your head. "Not anymore, I know it won't come to that." He nods, relieved that it isn't worrying you any longer. He's pulled from his thoughts when you speak up again. "I'm grateful. I know what I want for myself. And it's thanks to you that I'm able to make my own choices." You lift your head to meet his gaze, your face painted with a furious blush. "I'm ready to make my own choices."

Levi chuckles. "Well, you're spoilt for choice if that's the case." He says, trying to ignore the pang of jealously he can feel in the pit of his stomach.

You shake your head  "That's not what I mean, Vi." You nervously bring your palm to his cheek. "I want to be with someone I trust, someone I love."

Levi stares at you. Blushing slightly at your words. You have grown into a young woman who's a lot braver than he gives you credit for. A small smile forms on his face, but he's still hesitant to say all the things he wants to.

Levi tries to keep his usual cool exterior "A-Are...Are you saying what I think you're saying right now?"

You nod nervously. Averting your gaze, you have said enough for someone as intuitive as Levi to piece together. The seconds seem to last forever, but he finally gives you his response with a soft and gentle tone:

"I... I want that, too."

[cera-writes]

can you do a story gambit where reader is a mutant or just has the power to either travel through the multiverse or see into different universes and she’s in a relationship with remy and she sees that gambit and rogue are together in every universe except theirs and reader ignores him because she thinks that they should be together so basically some angst and shes comforted by remy maybe some smut? 🤗💕

A/N: thanks for requesting this! This was such an interesting prompt and I had fun writing it! Pairing: Remy LeBeau x F!Reader Tags: nsfw, angst, comfort/hurt, sweet reassuring smut

In this Universe

You stand in the dimly lit room, your eyes fixed on the swirling portal that connects to countless alternate realities. The air around you crackles with energy, a tangible reminder of the power coursing through your veins—the power to see and traverse the multiverse. Your partner, Remy LeBeau, stands beside you, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder. His eyes, though masked by the shadows, betray a concern that mirrors your own inner turmoil.

"Qu'est-ce qui te tracasse, chere?" Remy's voice is soft, tinged with his usual Creole accent that still managed to wrap around your heart like a warm and inviting embrace.

You hesitate, torn between sharing your recent discovery and the fear it might shatter the fragile peace you've built together. "I... I've been seeing things, Remy. In other universes."

His grip tightens slightly, encouraging you to continue. "Go on, tell Remy."

"In every universe I've seen, you and Rogue are... together. Always." The words hang heavy in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

Remy's expression remains calm, but you can sense the undercurrent of tension. "And what does dat mean fo' us here?"

You turn to face him, searching his eyes for any hint of what he might be feeling. "It means... maybe we're not meant to be together. Maybe our story was written for someone else."

A muscle ticks in his jaw, but his voice remains steady when he speaks. "So, you think we should jus' give up because some versions of us didn't make it work?"

The question stings, not because of its sharpness, but because of its accuracy. You sigh, looking back at the portal. "I don't know what to think anymore."

Remy steps closer, tilting your chin up so you meet his gaze. "Listen to Remy, chere. Our love, it's real. It's ours. Not some borrowed fairytale from another world."

You want to believe him, to cling to the warmth of his words, but the images from those other universes keep flashing through your mind—Rogue and Gambit, laughing, fighting, loving. "What if we're just living out someone else's destiny?"

Remy shakes his head, his eyes burning with an intensity that surprises you. "No. Dis, us, it's ours to shape. Ours to fight for."

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, caught off guard by the depth of emotion in his response. "But how can we be sure?"

He brushes the tear away with his thumb, his touch gentle yet firm. "Cause I choose you, every day. And Gambit'll keep choosing you, no matter what those other worlds show."

His words resonate within you, stirring something deep and primal. "Remy..."

Before you can finish, he presses his lips to yours, a fierce declaration of intent that leaves no room for doubt. The kiss is passionate, desperate, as if he's trying to imprint himself upon you, to drown out the visions of other realities with the reality of his love.

When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming fast. "Let's make our own story, chere. One dat those other worlds will envy."

You nod, your resolve strengthening with each beat of your heart. "

"Please." You needed the distraction desperately to keep from coming apart at the seams. You needed him to ground you and make you really believe that this was your universe with him and that's all that mattered, otherwise, you don't think you could handle anymore of these visions.

"I'm right here, chere." He squeezed your hand.

Together, you turn back to the portal, hand in hand, ready to confront whatever challenges lie ahead, united in your decision to forge your own path, regardless of the echoes from parallel worlds.

You grip Remy's hand tightly as you step into the swirling portal, the sensation of being pulled apart and reassembled in a different reality washing over you like a tidal wave. The colors blur and merge, creating a kaleidoscope of visions that threaten to overwhelm your senses.

"Focus on me, chere," Remy's voice cuts through the chaos, steady and reassuring. You lock eyes with him, allowing his presence to anchor you as the world around you shifts and morphs.

Suddenly, the disorientation ceases, and you find yourselves standing in a lush, overgrown garden. The air is thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and the soft hum of insects fills the silence. You look around, recognizing this place—it's one of the alternate realities you've seen before, where Gambit and Rogue are deeply in love.

Remy seems to sense your unease. "Show Gambit what troubles you," he murmurs, leading you deeper into the garden.

As you walk, the scenery changes subtly, transforming into a scene from your visions. There, under a weeping willow, stands Gambit and Rogue, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Your hands start to shake as anxiety takes over again. The sight stings, but before you can turn away, Remy pulls you close.

"Look at dem, but see us," he whispers against your ear, his breath warm and comforting. "Feel how our hearts beat as one."

You close your eyes, focusing on the solidity of Remy's body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of his heart matching your own. When you open your eyes again, the vision of Gambit and Rogue fades, replaced by the vivid reality of Remy's intense gaze.

"I see only you," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Remy smiles, a flicker of relief softening his features. "Good. Now, lemme show you why Gambit chose you."

He leads you to a secluded clearing, where the grass is soft and inviting. The sunlight filters through the leaves overhead, dappling the ground with golden light. Remy kneels, gently pulling you down with him.

"Here, in dis place dat isn't ours, we'll make it ours," he says, his hands tracing the curve of your waist. His touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns brighter than any multiverse illusion.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss that speaks of promises and possession. The world around you melts away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a battle for dominance and surrender.

Remy's hands roam freely, exploring every inch of your body with a reverence that makes you arch into his touch. "You're beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, marking you as his. "Remy," you breathe, your need rising like a tide.

He looks up, his eyes dark with passion. "Say it again, chere. My name," he commands, his voice a low growl.

"Remy," you repeat, more urgently this time, your body aching for more.

With a groan, he presses you back against the grass, his body covering yours. The weight of him feels perfect, grounding you in this stolen moment of reality. It almost doesn't feel real. His kisses trail down your throat, his hands mapping your curves with possessive strokes.

"You're mine," he asserts, punctuating each word with a sharp nip to your skin. "In every universe, you're mine."

The intensity of his declaration sends a thrill through you, fueling your own hunger. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Prove it," you challenge, your voice husky with arousal.

Remy grins, a feral spark lighting his eyes. "With pleasure, ma chere."

He shifts, aligning himself with your core, and with one powerful thrust, he shears through your barriers, claiming you completely. You cry out, a mix of pain and ecstasy ripping through you as he fills you, joining your souls in a union that transcends the multiverse.

"Y-yes... yes!" you pant, clawing at his back, desperate to feel every part of him.

Remy moves inside you, his strokes deep and relentless, each thrust a testament to his devotion. "Look at me," he demands, forcing you to meet his gaze. "See only me, darlin'."

You do, your vision blurring with tears of joy as you drown in the crimson and black of his eyes. "Always," you promise, your voice breaking with emotion.

His pace quickens, driving you both towards the precipice. "Together," he gasps, his forehead resting against yours. "Forever."

With a final, powerful surge, he pushes you over the edge, your bodies convulsing in unison as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cling to each other, bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync.

"Ours," Remy breathes, collapsing beside you, his chest heaving with exertion.

You turn to face him, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. "Ours," you agree, sealing your pact with a tender kiss.

As you lie there, wrapped in each other's arms, the garden around you begins to fade, the portal calling you back to your own reality. But for now, you're content to stay lost in this stolen moment, secure in the knowledge that no matter the multiverse, your love will always find its way home.

[kassiekole22]

Can you do a Syzoth/Reptile x reader, about him telling the reader about things they should know about him & his reptilian form before they date each other? Thank you!!!

Are You Sure?

Picture lightly edited by me.

Description: It takes all the courage in the world to tell Syzoth how you really feel about him. But Syzoth isn't so sure that you can handle a Zaterran as a lover. So he decides to tell you everything you need to know, before taking your relationship to the next level... Warnings: Fluff, Pining, A Small Bit Of NSFW. (For brief mention of breeding.) Word Count: 1.4k A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long for me to finish! I've been dealing with some health issues and other personal struggles recently so I've been having a hard time getting things done quickly. But I'm getting better so hopefully that will change soon. I want any other anons to know that I still fully intend on finishing your requests and to other readers, please don't let this discourage you from sending any requests. I love hearing all of your ideas! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this fic. 🖤 MasterList: 🖤 Kassie's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @bihansthot, @katiralovely. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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I slumped down under a shady tree after practicing fighting for a solid two hours. Lord Liu Kang told me the monks would be harsh, but I never expected training to be just as hard as it was. So I sat — the back of my head hitting the bark of the tree as it fell back onto my shoulders — and I let out a tired sigh. My eyes began to fall shut but then the wrestling of tree branches jerked me right awake as I let out a startled gasp. I looked up to find the source of this sudden commotion only to see Syzoth — in his human form — staring down at me from a high branch with a cheeky smile stretching his lips.

"You scared me!" I laughed as I reached an arm up to swat at his feet, which hung down from the branch he sat on.

After responding with a huff of laughter, Syzoth jumped down beside me. He sat down on the ground so close to where I was that I subconsciously held my breath, now very weary of moving in his presence. But not from fear — because it was the closest I had ever been to Syzoth before. The soft touch of his skin touching mine when our elbows brushed together, being engulfed in a cloud of his natural scent, even being able to hear his breath was enough to get my heart beat racing. To say I liked the man was quite an understatement. In my eyes, he was beautiful; I just wish I knew how to tell him that.

"It's so nice out here," he breathed before letting out a relaxed sigh. "I could sit out here for hours."

"Yeah, me too." I agreed, looking in every direction but his. Of course, I wasn't subtle about it — despite trying to be — and he noticed instantly.

"Are you ok?" He asked as his tone dipped softer with more concern.

I simply nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

I finally mustered up the strength to look back at him and make eye contact. But as soon as my eyes met those pale green ones, I could feel my cheeks burn with a sudden heat of desire. The expression that grew on his face was much like his tone moments ago: concerned and worried.

'Shit! He notices!'

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" He asked while placing a hand gently on my own. The sudden contact did not help my rosy completion and I felt my skin burn even more.

I quickly pulled away and nodded my head, "Yes, yes — I'm fine." I assured him. "I just got too much sun today."

It was a good lie and I just prayed that Syzoth was as gullible as I had hoped. He did not answer me after that and for a good moment, peaceful silence had fallen over us and I was glad.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and finally felt myself relax again. Looking up at the sky, I noticed that not a single cloud covered it, allowing the sun to beam down upon us. The birds chirped happily and the butterflies fluttered in the air — watching them helped all of my stresses melt away and bring me to peace. It truly was a perfect day. I let my eyes flutter shut as a cool breeze blew passed us, and then I felt completely comfortable in my surroundings.

That was until Syzoth's voice broke the long-lasting silence...

"(Y/N)," His voice came out serious as he spoke. His sudden change in tone instantly caught my attention and I turned to face the man. "I have a question that I must ask—"

"Ok — what is it?"

"Do... Do you have feelings for me?" He asked hesitantly and almost... Shyly?

I froze as soon as the words came out of his mouth and I instantly felt my cheeks burn with intense embarrassment. The shock I felt was overwhelming and I had absolutely no idea how to respond. I just sat there, thinking deeply about a million things at once.

'Does he know? Am I really that obvious? There's no way! I mean, I've done so well to hide it!... Haven't I?

As humiliating as it was, I knew I couldn't keep the truth from him for any longer. So after heaving a deep sigh to gain just a little more confidence, I spoke my confession: "Yes, Syzoth — I do have feelings for you."

He stared at me with a blank and not so surprised expression for a moment. I felt as if I was under a burning spotlight while under his gaze. Finally — after a moment that felt like a lifetime — he let out a soft sigh. It didn't seem necessarily stressed or disappointed in anyway — it was just a normal huff of air.

"Are you sure? Because — as you know — I'm no ordinary individual. I'm not human like yo—"

"I don't care, Syzoth!" I cut him off as I raised my voice slightly. I didn't mean to come off aggressive in any way — I was just eager to tell him how I felt. I exhaled slowly and lowered my voice to a more calm pitch. "I like you for you; that stuff doesn't matter."

He looked at me for a moment, almost like he was reading over my words in his mind. Something told me by his expression that he did not believe me and would need further convincing. And unfortunately, I was right.

"No, (Y/N). You do not understand." He heaved a deep breath and shifted so he was facing me more before continuing, "There is still a lot about me that you do not know. Things you are not prepared for—"

"Well... Prepare me!" I basically demanded with an enthusiastic smile and he raised a brow at me for a moment. He seemed almost hesitant to let me into his world but eventually he did nod in agreement.

"Ok... For instance, our diet mainly consists of raw flesh of animals and humans. We can eat cooked foods but we don't prefer it." He paused for a moment to check my facial expression before continuing, "We shed our skin once a year. It's a very long and uncomfortable process and I will become very irritable at that time. I like warmth and do not do well in the cold — I can't handle it, in fact. I also have to keep my skin hydrated and... There's also mating season... Um..."

His eyes averted away from mine as he shifted uncomfortably on the ground while letting out a cough. I blushed at the thought of this "mating season" he mentioned, but tried my hardest to keep my composure for his and my sake.

"I may appear human sometimes, but do know that my reptilian nature still lingers within. Are you sure you want to engage in a romantic relationship with someone like myself?"

I smiled warmly at the man sitting before me and took his big hands in my own, massaging the backs of them with my thumbs to sooth him. It was obvious he was nervous and I didn't want him to be — he deserved to be comfortable with someone for once in his life and I was going to make sure that I was that person.

"Like I said before: I like you for you. And I would be more than happy to engage in a romantic relationship with you — that is, of course, if you want to engage in one with me?"

I gazed up at him through my lashes with hope blossoming in my heart for the first time that day. I felt his hands grow sweaty in my own and the look of concern on his face remained, causing a little bit of that hope to die off.

But then his worried expression melted away with a fond smile as his cheeks turned a faint tint of pink. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against mine — not necessarily molding them into a kiss, but just holding them there. So I decided to take charge of the situation and pressed mine into his in the way a kiss would be formed. And happily, he kissed back.

I knew that loving a Zaterran would be a challenge, but I wouldn't have it any other way. My heart longed for him and now that I had him, that's all that mattered to me. I had finally found the one for me and I knew I'd be happy as long as he was at my side — this I was sure of.

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[paisleypens]

too cool pt. 2 | spencer agnew x f!reader

the hair i’m crying.

thank you for the love on the last one!! here’s part 1

i was so busy recently but i love this story so let me know what you think! new part soon trust

~~~

In the days that followed their impromptu trip to the park, Spencer panicked over his feelings for Y/N. He hadn’t felt this close to anyone in a non platonic way in a while. After endless hours of thinking about her and their excursion, Spencer realized something haunting. No way was he cool enough for someone like her. Yes they could nerd out together, but why would she want to be with someone like that? He concluded that Y/N would never choose him as the ideal guy for her.

The next few days passed in a blur of meetings, rehearsals, and editing sessions. Spencer and Y/N maintained their easy rapport, but the unspoken tension simmered beneath the surface, growing more palpable with each passing interaction.

It was during a casual lunch break that the topic of relationships surfaced. They sat at a small table, sandwiches forgotten as they engaged in a lighthearted debate about romantic comedies.

"I've never been a fan of those over-the-top love stories," Spencer commented, taking a sip of his Kickstart.

Y/N raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, really? You’re too cool for a good slow-burn romance?"

Spencer chuckled, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "Well, I suppose there's something nice about the anticipation, the build-up between two people. But maybe I'm just not cool enough to get it."

Their eyes met briefly, a shared misunderstanding of their words passing between them before they both looked away, the moment lingering in the air like an unspoken confession.

As the days passed, their dance of denial continued. They buried their feelings beneath layers of professional camaraderie, exchanging playful banter and supportive gestures while tiptoeing around the undeniable chemistry that crackled between them.

It was a delicate balance, a silent agreement to keep their emotions in check for the sake of their work and friendship. But with each passing day, the longing glances and fleeting touches spoke volumes, unspoken desires waiting to be acknowledged.

As the days turned into weeks and the unspoken tension between Spencer and Y/N continued to simmer, Spencer found himself grappling with a realization he couldn't ignore—he was falling for her.

It was an unusually quiet Tuesday afternoon in the office, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by a serene calm. Spencer sat at his desk, fingers tapping absently on the keyboard as he tried to focus. But his mind kept drifting, thoughts consumed by Y/N and the unspoken emotions that had taken root in his heart.

He replayed moments in his mind—the shared laughter, the stolen glances, the way her eyes lit up when they discussed their favorite games. Each memory was like a whispered confession, a testament to the depth of his feelings. Spencer leaned back in his chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew he couldn't continue denying his feelings, couldn't keep pretending that his heart didn't ache every time Y/N walked away.

“Hey, you good man? You’re looking pretty… gone right now.” Spencer's friend and closest working relationship, Shayne Topp, asked him.

“Yeah… yeah uh what’s up?” Spencer coughed out.

“Well I was going to ask what your dinner plans are but… do you want to talk?” Shayne asked, his eyebrows sewing together in worry.

“No it’s dumb I don’t- I don’t even know what i’d say.” Spencer answered, slumping down in his chair farther.

“Shoot.”

“Well… I really like someone. I- I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t work, I can barely sleep when I could just stay up thinking about her.” Spencer admitted.

“Damn, to be honest I never thought I would see this day. What’s stopping you from getting her?” Shayne questioned, laughing at his school yard confession.

“I don’t man have you seen me?”

“Uh yeah you’re the ideal man.”

“Very funny. But no I'm serious she’s- let’s just say she is way too cool for me. Very far out of my league.”

“Dude have you seen my relationship? If you like her that much it’s dumb to torture yourself like this.”

“Yeah but, we're friends. What if I screw it up?”

“But what if you don’t?”

[casuallyanidiot]

I got the Rollo card thank god lmao

I've had him in mind recently, and I also happened to find this Brazilian show from the 90s called Hilda Furacao/ Hilda Hurricane.

There's a lot of tension between two of the main characters, and there's a lot of yummy religious guilt that I think Rollo would slot so well into.

I'm picturing Rollo who falls in love with you after the events of Glomas, and he's picturing a future with you. He's got it all planned out. The two of you exchange letters for years. What can he say? He's an old school at heart, and he appreciates the meticulous dedication that it takes to detail his slowly developing feelings. He can picture you sitting in that dilapidated, rotten dorm at that vile school, writing to him with admittedly poor penmanship, and he feels his chest tighten.

He wants you by his side, safe in Fleur city away from such foul figures. He knows he must wait until after the two of you have graduated to pursue you, and after that he will marry you and join the clergy.

He of course doesn't express his intentions. To do so would be improper, but he hopes by virtue of his consistent letters you'll understand what he plans to do with you.

Of course, all his plans fall apart the second he sees you again. You're giddy from having just graduated, and he's offered you a place to stay at his apartment in the heart of the city. You're excited to see him and to explore and acclimate to your new home.

He takes you to a nearby chapel that he frequents, and he explains his desires to join the church. He doesn't mention it, but the only way he can be with you is if the two of you wed before he is inducted. It's unfortunate, but he'd do anything to have you, to be able to give into this aching, burning feeling that he's had every time he could smell your perfume on paper.

Now you're here, and he's never letting you go again.

But then he does something stupid. The two of you end up tangled in the pews. Sweat sheens on his skin, and he's clutching onto your panting form. Your back melds against the cold, polished wood, and vibrant, colored rays from the sun streaked stained glass panes filtered onto your skin.

It wasn't planned, and he freaks out in a moment of post nut clarity. He couldn't believe that you had tempted him in such a way. You had spread your legs in such a sacred hall, never mind the fact he had reciprocated. You should've known that you're alluring. You should've known that he was on the brink of pinning you to the nearest surface. It's your fault. It's your fault that he has now been tainted out of marriage.

It gets him thinking. If you've swayed such a pious man such as himself, the surely a lesser man than him would be inclined to fuck you as well. Hell, they might even feel entitled to it when he is the one who should have rightful claim.

He's dragging you to the apartment and locks you in your room, his chest heaving with panic and rage. He can't let you be with anyone else. No, no he won't allow it.

You're going to be his wife. The two of you will be wed, he'll do just as he had set out to do when he first brought you here.

[minas-linkverse]

Why is Mina's Linkverse?

I've been into the legend of Zelda since age 10, when Skyward Sword came out. Of course I was excited when I saw the fandom here on tumblr suddenly awaken larger than before. The release of botw was quite an event.

What I came to find however, was that I was struggling to connect with the fandom and its works. Dont get me wrong, the creators here are incredible and deserving of great praise. The problem wasn't them, but something in me I wasn't able to shake off.

After a lot of introspection the conclusion I came to was that the largest "issue" was how trauma was being explored.

I've been through absolute garbage, and know so much of that rage and pain. For a long time I thought I'd always feel it. I felt like a fire had been set in me and to extinguish it would only let those who hurt me win.

And I do think that past me was right, I think there are parts of me that will carry those burns forever. However with time I found myself less bothered. I infact was getting bored that my mind wouldn't just let me move on from that already.

I'm not a therapist, I don't truly know if what I say is accurate to more than myself— But in recent years I've started to see a world beyond what happened to me. I'm never going to be the woman I thought I'd be but I'm someone capable of finding happiness and security. There's still huge set backs and things that I've barely made progress on... Thing I've given up recovering... But I've seen it. I've seen that things can turn around and get better.

A lot of the fandom writes trauma as something larger than life. It's the main anatoginist, it gives the characters depth. In most cases, I think that's totally fine. In fact when I was still in pain I read works like that almost exclusivly. It was comforting to see myself in art.

But now that I've seen things can improve, I found myself desiring works about that. I wanted to see the cast of games I loved with all my heart to find that bright future too.

...So that's why Linkverse is here. I'm humbly offering the idea that these boys can heal and find bright futures. Maybe I could even reach a real person who feels like I used to. A girl can dream.

I also think its worth making the point that trauma doesn't make someone interesting. Healing doesn't make someone lose what made them worth reading about. Happiness can be as complex, deep and valuable as sorrow. Both is good.

So uhm. Yea! Yea. Yup.

This might be a webcomic about gnomes but I'm pouring my entire heart into it. I hope it shows and reaches others.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

lazy power bottom raphael & anal fingering/handjobs

Read on AO3

-

Her entrance into his office was unceremonious. The devil sat squinting at old scrolls, looking up at her through his pretty lashes when she stood in front of his desk.

“I don't recall requesting to see you,” he said, his tone neutral. Tav was about to take a monumental risk, but she was still riding the high of her recent piece of freedom. Her magic was slowly returning - helped along by the fragments of his power Raphael was sharing - and it felt a little like the soft afterglow of an orgasm. A good orgasm. Constant. Tav hadn't felt alive like this in a very long time. She kept flexing her fingers and toes; he noticed, but didn't comment. 

“I want to talk to you,” she said simply. 

He was quiet for a minute. Digesting her behavior, and how he was going to manage it. Otherwise his expression was impossible to read. “Then talk.”

It was here, Tav knew, that she had to tread carefully. If she got this right, Raphael would be in her hands - as much as a devil like him ever could be - and she would be the closest to real freedom she'd been…likely since before her cursed magic ever even began to manifest. A depressing thought, but one she didn't linger on. 

“I'd like you to stop having sex with Haarlep,” she said. Instantly she could tell it hadn't been what he was expecting her to say. The surprise on his handsome face would've been comical if she wasn't balancing the certainty of her future on the outcome of this conversation. He wasn't surprised for long. He put down the scroll he was reading, planted his elbows on the desk and folded his hands together, where he rested his chin. He looked at her very much like a boarding school headmaster, both entertained and irritated by an unruly child's audacious behavior. Like it amused him to watch someone so beneath him attempt to display authority, but when the novelty wore off he'd get angry.

“Why should I do that?” He drawled. He was humouring her, Tav knew, because he was curious. Just as she'd hoped. “What makes you think you can tell me to do anything?”

“I can't,” Tav shrugged, “I know I can't. But if you want to keep having sex with me, Haarlep has to be out of the picture - or out of your bed, at least.”

“You're giving me an ultimatum? How cute,” Raphael cooed. That he hadn't incinerated her on the spot was an indication of his piqued interest. “I knew you held distaste for my incubus, but I had no idea it ran so deep.”

“This has nothing to do with me not liking Haarlep,” Tav countered. That was mostly the truth. She absently touched the ugly scarring on her naked throat. She'd wear that collar forever, it seemed, one way or another. Raphael's clever gaze followed her. “I don't share my sexual partners, that's all. Not by choice, anyway, and choice is something you said you'd let me have, at least when it comes to this. Unless you're going back on your word…”

“I am not,” the devil growled; his tone suggested he might like to. “Though you'd do well to make sure you don't mistake my clemency for complacency, songbird. Unless you'd like to find out what happens to people who do.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“I'm sure.” Raphael narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down from her bare feet to the crown of her head. Tav did her best not to shift, to remain confident against his scrutiny. His next words were blunt. “Why should I choose you over an incubus I've kept for centuries? A creature perfectly attuned to my body, my desires? One who cannot and will not say no to anything I want to do to them?”

At last it was the moment for Tav to make her case. To admit a truth aloud to herself and to the devil who stole her away from a personal hell far worse than Avernus, or any other layer of Hell.

“Because I want you, Raphael. I want you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night in your chambers, the way you looked underneath me as everything else burned…it's driving me crazy. I know it was good for you, too. I can't give you the same precision and experience as Haarlep, but…maybe I can give you something better.”

Raphael's eyes darkened as she spoke, his pupils expanding to swallow the orange of his irises. His countenance changed, even if his placid expression hadn't. It was a subtle shift, but one Tav had become attuned to as she learned him, his mannerisms and habits.

“I must admit, the smell of fire has held quite a…scintillating sentiment for me these past few days,” he said. “Ah, what a delightful impulse buy you've turned out to be…”

Tav felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. There was the caveat. A bitter reminder that she was still infernal property, no matter how well he treated her. She couldn't believe it. In the heat of passion, she'd almost allowed herself to forget. This wasn't about sex, or lust. It was Hell's oldest game: manipulation. If she had fun in the meantime, all the better, but she wouldn't again forget why she was doing this. Her flames were not doused, but tempered.

“So, are my terms acceptable?” Tav pressed. Crossed her arms over her chest. Leaned her weight on one hip.

“That depends, dearest.” The devil did so love negotiations. “If I were to relinquish my, shall we say, dalliances with Haarlep and share myself only with you…my little songbird, my sweet pet…” Tav's breath caught. Those words affected her more than she thought. Raphael smiled. “What would that mean?”

Hook. Line. Time for the sinker.

“Let me show you,” she murmured. “Right here, right now. If you're good for it.”

The devil was deeply entertained, that much was obvious. He clicked his fingers and Tav heard his office doors close and lock. “Hmm… What will you have me do now, pet?”

“Bend over the desk. Clothes off. Please.”

For a moment, he did nothing. His silent stare had weight. Tav wondered if this was the point of no return, if she'd found the line and crossed it. If he was testing her mettle, her conviction, to see if she would falter. If he was simply stunned that she believed she could speak to him that way, that she believed he would actually obey. 

Just when Tav thought he wouldn't, when the moment had stretched beyond uncomfortable and she'd almost given into the urge to squirm, Raphael did what she asked. The thrill Tav experienced was substantial. He stood. A simple click and he cleared the surface of his desk; another and he was naked, thick muscles, prominent veins and ribbed cherry-red skin on show, lightly dusted with patches of dark hair. He was softer around the middle than Haarlep's display, and Tav much preferred it. Raphael’s handsome cock was already beginning to fill, his dark pink glans peeking out from beneath his foreskin. He could play at aloofness all he wanted, but his body would always give him away. Still, he was a devil of pride, and there was nothing but smug superiority in the way he positioned himself; forearms braced on the desk, back bent, ass up. His tail swung lazily to-and-fro. He reminded her of his incubus like this, but - and she'd never tell him this - Tav thought he pulled off the seduction much better.

“Well, my songbird,” he purred, equal parts an invitation and a challenge. “Here I am. Show me how you want me.”

As she approached, Tav wished she could hate him the way she hated all other fiends and devils alike. He made it impossible, and that was infuriating, because it complicated so many things. She wished he repulsed her as Lyuris had, but she found Raphael's hellish features quite beautiful. She'd been certain there was nothing beautiful in Hell, but as she smoothed her hands over Raphael's hot skin and he made a quiet noise of approval…

Tav chewed the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Remember why you're doing this.

He was so much larger than her, but like this, she could reach the parts of him she wanted much easier. Her touch drifted over his broad shoulders and down the column of his spine. At its base her fingertips flirted briefly with where his tail sprouted; the skin was baby soft on its underside and Raphael seemed to like being touched there, if the gentle “ah!” he released meant anything. He seemed to like being touched everywhere. Things between he and Haarlep were transactions, Tav had realised, but the devil’s appetite wasn't just for sex. He hungered for touch, warm and given willingly. Affection of the basest kind, as so many devils secretly and selfishly did. Something a demon would never understand. That was how she'd get him.

Tav squeezed his backside in both hands. He had a nice ass. She felt down lower to find his balls, smiling at the way he instantly spread his thighs to allow her access. His sack was hot and heavy in her palm, too big to properly hold. She kneaded what she could instead, firm testes inside rolling against his scrotum's thin, smooth skin. She tugged them gently. Raphael groaned, deep and throaty. Tav's deft fingers slid between his buttocks, parting them enough to feel the twitching velvet of his hairless puckered hole. He inhaled sharply when she rested her thumb on it but made no move to stop her. In fact, he lifted his tail and presented himself further.

“Oil?” She asked. Raphael clicked his fingers once more and a little bottle appeared on his desk. Stroking his hole, savouring his anticipatory twitches, Tav used her free hand to pop the lid from the bottle and scent its contents. “Mm, palmarosa. Smells good.”

“They do know how to make fine things in Waterdeep,” said the devil, distractedly. “If you're willing to shell out substantial gold, of course…ahhh…” 

“Of course.” As he spoke, Tav poured a generous helping of the oil on her fingers, and slowly pushed her slick thumb past the tight ring of his anus. The heat and squeeze of his slippery insides was amazing.

“Is that it? More,” Raphael snarled, impatiently pressing into her hand. “What are you waiting for?”

“Nothing at all.”

Her index finger, then her middle, joined her thumb. Experience told her how to twist them, where to rub, when to scissor. Experimentation would tell her where his prostate was, but until then he was enjoying himself anyway. His head dropped forward, clipped moans escaping him as he tried to fuck himself on her fingers, tried to get more friction, more more more.

“Another,” he demanded raspily, “give me another. Harder.”

“As you wish…master.” She said it purely for the shudder that ran through him, for the way he clenched around her fingers, but Tav would be lying if she said it didn't affect her, too. If she looked down, she could see his clawed toes curling. Her ring finger slipped into his ass, her pinky thumping his perineum with each harsh thrust and rub she gave him. The wet noises and her devil's grunts were obscene.

“Yes…nngh, good pet…such a good pet,” Raphael uttered, unable to stop talking even with four fingers up his ass. “So eager to please me…that's it, yes. Like that…”

With her free hand, Tav reached around to grab his cock, fully erect and leaking precum. To do it, she had to press herself flush against him, the backs of his thighs scorching the fronts of hers through the thin dress she wore. She couldn't resist dropping open-mouthed kisses on his flesh. He tasted of sweat and spice, and the strange ridges of his infernal anatomy felt like soft cartilage in her mouth. He sighed so sweetly when she sucked on them. Her fingers on his cock squeezed and stroked, her intent to reach his glans and smear his precum around for lubricant, but Raphael snatched that hand and brought it to his face. His forked tongue - that dangerous thing of pure silver -  licked up the length of her palm and lathered her digits with hot spit, and when he deemed them sufficiently sloppy, he put them right back on his aching prick.

“Fuck,” Tav cursed breathlessly, resting her cheek between his wing joints for a moment. Heart in her throat, blood roaring in her ears, cunt slick. 

Remember. 

The devil chuckled, but it quickly dissolved into a low, rumbling moan when she made a narrow cage of her hand for him to fuck, to rut and rub his prick into like an animal; and that was exactly what he did, rolling his hips to alternate between pleasuring his cock and spearing himself on her fingers in his ass. Tav felt every flex of his spine, felt every drag of his foreskin and swollen vein and ridge on his cock, felt every clench and spasm of his rectum. Felt it when she found the spot she'd been looking for, soft and spongy beneath her fingertips. The sound Raphael let out as his big body jerked bordered on inhuman; his claws scratched at the wood of his desk, his wings flexed, his tail thrashed.

“There,” he hissed, “right there.”

Tav kissed and bit him as she ruthlessly worked his prostate. He barely noticed, his rutting becoming feverish, snarls and growls mixing with wet gasps, fast and shallow. His cock stiffening further, balls tight, Tav knew he was about to come. She awaited it with vicious satisfaction, wishing only that she could see his face as he unraveled, if his sharp features would twist as lovely as they did the night she rode him in flames. 

He finished with a shudder, a guttural choked groan, his head lolled back, wings spread wide. His inner muscles fruitlessly milked her fingers, his fat cock spurting ropes of hot cum all over her knuckles, his chest, the desk. His claws had dug deep gouges in the wood. In the aftermath he quivered, panting. Tav felt as though she couldn't catch her breath, either. Her forehead rested once again between his wing joints where she stayed, still holding his softening cock. It took effort not to sigh with him as she pulled out, giving his hole - bereft, wet, winking - one final gentle rub. Her wrist ached, her cunt ached, her heart ached (but only a little). 

[vera-king-hrfl]

Soft cock Zevlor blow job? Thoughts?

Ok sooooo yeah. I usually write Zevlor as a stallion, but my ask box does say "challenge me", and I aims to please. Perhaps yet another of those questionable decisions, but hey, Imma try? It's also G/N cause why not?

I swear to Bhaal if you guys awaken an ED fetish in me...

Zevlor’s hands are magic, his scarred body beautiful, full lips sweet and soft on yours. Everything about this man sparks a burning desire in you to please him, to make him feel even half as good as he does you. But Zevlor seems shy about himself, about his body, despite your enthusiastic reassurance that you find him beautiful. He's used that wonderful mouth and talented tongue to bring you to the heights of ecstasy several times in the recent past, but seems reluctant to allow you to do the same. He has even rebuffed your needy pleas for him to fuck you, to let you go down on him, seeming more than content to focus on your pleasure. As far as you know, he's never even climaxed in your presence, though his moans when he takes you apart do show that he enjoys you immensely. Tonight, you're determined. You are going to make the old Hellrider come if you have to tie him down.

You're making out with Zevlor on the sofa in your house, and though his lips and hands on you are hot and hungry, he keeps his hips still, even though you're straddling his lap and grinding against him for all you're worth. There’s nothing there to match the fervor of the rest of him, but he's panting with desire and you feel his need. Maybe... gasping for breath, you pull away and stroke his face. "I want to make you feel good, Zevlor. Please let me."

He hesitates, and you think you see something in his hellfire eyes. Apprehension? Embarrassment, even? But the desire is there too, even though he tries to protest. "You do make me feel good, darling. This is wonderful. Just let me take care of you." But you aren’t having it. He wants this, no matter how he might try to deny it. So you just hush him and slide down between his spread thighs, massaging the hard muscles there firmly. His soft moan is all you need to continue. Looking up at him, begging with your eyes until he finally grits his teeth and nods. You grin in elation and waste no time in snaking your hands behind him to unhook his pants. You reach inside and bring out his beautiful shaft. It's long and thick, but soft, and you squeeze a little, making him let out a delicious groan. But nothing happens, and you realize. He can’t.

You certainly don't care, but he seems to, and as you're lowering your head to lick at him he reaches down to stop you. "I'm... I'm sorry I..."

But you push his hand away and capture the head of him between your lips, sucking sharply before releasing with a little pop. "Does it feel good?"

He's quivering, panting a little, and you know the answer, but he's still protesting. "It’s not what... you deserve..."

You chuckle, swirling your tongue around his flaccid cock, making him whimper before looking up again. "Some may have differing opinions concerning what I deserve, but that's not what I asked you." Then you open your mouth wider and sink down, sucking him deeper before releasing again. "Does it feel good?" You ask more insistently.

He stares down at you for a few more seconds before finally nodding, and his voice is a breathy moan of want. "Yes... fuck yes it feels so good. Please..."

"Good. Now let’s get those pants off. I've been wanting this for a long time." He seems surprised that you don't care about his perceived failings, but he lifts his ass and lets you yank his trousers off and settle yourself between his now bare legs. You lavish his thighs with kisses, tracing your tongue in the creases between them and his body before taking his sweet manhood between your lips again. He gasps when you pull his hips forward until his ass is at the very edge of the sofa and throw one of his legs over your shoulder, sucking firmly for a few minutes, letting your tongue press into the underside. You grab his other leg behind the knee and bring it up until his foot is resting on your thigh, and spread his legs further. Then you release his cock for a second, but only to slick your fingers with saliva. "Hang on, Hellrider. I think you'll like this."

You start slowly at first, gentle, just playing at the tight entrance while keeping his shaft firmly in your mouth, rhythmic sucking, firm massage with your tongue. He whines as you probe a bit, but then growls softly. "Oh fuck yes... do that. Feels so... unnhhhh..." You grin around him. You knew it. You push deeper, curling your fingers, seeking that special place that will make him fall apart. His cock feels so good in your mouth, and you're able to shove the whole thing in, something you certainly wouldn't have been able to do if he were hard. You keep your tongue swirling, your fingers pumping until his hips are jerking and he wraps both powerful legs around your neck. It's amazing, this feeling, the strong Paladin losing himself in your hands, and you go faster and harder, shoving your fingers over and over into his tight gorgeous ass, desperate to make him come undone. His cock is leaking into your mouth now, delicious and hot, and you can feel his thighs around you quivering as he fists his hand in your hair. "Yes... that's it... so good just... just a little more. Fuck. Fuck... gonna come..."

A few more minutes, panting, growling, swearing, and his hips buck up a few times before you feel a more copious spill of fluid and taste the amazing salt-sweet-sulfer flavor of his seed as he releases into your mouth. Slowly you subside, letting him twitch and groan with both heavy thighs draped across your shoulders now, just holding your fingers inside his clenching hole and licking the last drops of spend from the beautiful cock in your grasp. He looks rather shocked when you smile up at him in obvious rapture. "You... you liked that."

You grin. "Oh yes, I loved it. Making you feel like that. I love everything about you." You ease your fingers free as he takes his legs down and let him pull you into his lap, kissing him softly. "I love you, Zevlor."

[vendetta-if]

With recent superhero movies like The Flash and Across the Spider-verse dealing with things like time travel and alternate univierses. I'm curious about what would happen if similar happened and the MC wound up encountering Viktor from the Dead Man Walking AU?

Oooh that's angsty 😰 It would be filled with a tearful and heartfelt reunion. For those who haven't read it, I have made the Dead Man Walking AU side story public a while back and you can read it here (Part 1) and here (Part 2). Also, I've compiled a list of all the publicly available side stories here 😀

Viktor from the Dead Man Walking AU is really a husk of the man he once was. He has become someone who's very bitter and cynical, and he won't stop at anything to make those who took his child away from him pay in the worst way possible. The only reason he's still alive is out of pure spite; there's no way he's going to die as long as the killer is still alive.

So, yeah MC would be in for a bit of a surprise to see just how different their dad is from the one they know and remember. But Viktor would be even more surprised to see his kid all grown up now. He would definitely break down and cry while hugging MC tightly, not wanting to let go.

MC would tell him everything that has been going on in their life and for the first time in years, Viktor genuinely smiles--even though it's a wistful one. At least, he feels something other than the numbing pain, hatred, and anger. Rather than telling MC what he has been up to all these years, he would rather ask more about MC and what they like and stuff, whether they still love the same ice-cream flavour, and he would carve all those little details all his heart.

Funnily enough, meeting Viktor would end up being a good thing overall for MC and Luka and Grandpa from the current Vendetta universe. Hypocritically, Viktor would make the three of them promise to stop their foolish endeavour to avenge him, saying he never wanted or expected it from them. He would tell them to live their lives to the fullest and he would also make sure Luka knows that he's not at fault at all.

Basically, he would tie up all emotional loose ends that his alternate self had tragically left, and yes, even with Grandpa as well. As much as they had beef, they still care for each other. I think that will help MC, Luka, and Grandpa heal once Viktor returns to his own universe.

But for Viktor, once he returns to his own universe, that encounter just makes him sadder, angrier, and more spiteful. How could one not when he has seen what he could've had, what could've been? While MC and Luka can continue with their lives, for Viktor, MC was his future and everything... There is no moving on for him, only more burning desire to avenge his kid. And once he somehow manages that... Honestly, he has not expected to go that far.

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

I've finally managed to start reading Purple Haze Feedback recently and was hit with a flashback of how shitty Fugo was seen by some people in the fandom(at least people I was around at the time).

Like- yeah, it was kinda disappointing when he left the other instead of also going to go betray the boss, but shit I wouldn't wanna go either! He was still young and had a lot to live, i don't blame him for not wanting to go on a suicide mission!

Also, going in a more fanfic/yandere centered idea here, I always thought it would've been a lot funnier if more authors wrote the Reader also deciding not to join the gang to go defeat the boss instead of just following along

Bruno: We're going to betray the boos, so as soon as you enter this boat, you will be considered a traitor! I won't pressure or force any of you to do it, so enter at your own discretion!

Reader: Wow... that's a very difficult decision ...well, good luck to all of you!

Bruno: Yes ,thank- wait, you're not coming?

Reader, the moment they heard "betray the boss" leave Bruno's mouth:

*

Another idea that always comes to mind when talking about Fugo is the fact that at first, he was going to be a spy amd would betray the gang (If i remember it correctly).

I always thought it would be an interesting concept to have Reader working for Diavolo since the beginning (bonus points for angst if the gang ends up finding THAT out in the worst moment possible lol)

Reader, messaging Diavolo every few minutes to update him on the gang's behavior:

(Narancia probably just got stabbed by Fugo for the third time this week)

Note to self : be careful to not burn myself out on answering asks next time. Took the week off, just because I was that stuck. It’s good advice in general for anyone else that has a blog here 👍

It’s a rather tall order to ask some sixteen year old teenager to casually betray the whole mafia and specifically the most powerful man on top who they have never met before. I’d like to think Fugo was thinking over every unknown they weren’t guaranteed to find out. Let alone if they even had a chance to even fight at all. I never personally blamed the dude for peacing out personally.

So being Yandere I could absolutely see him do just about everything to get you to hesitate to go with Bruno and the others. He’d bend over backwards to do so, especially if you were hesitant yourself. Like sure there’s a chance you and the others by some miracle could defeat the boss, but depending on how he utilizes his organization and stand users against you, it would get ugly real quick. He even insists it’s just not worth getting hurt/killed over.

It’s likely his selfish desire to keep you to himself talking but he won’t back down in trying to keep you there with him. I always felt like Fugo could make a very compelling argument too, it’s almost scary how convincing he’d likely be. (That’s if you were unsure which way to go, if you didn’t want to go with Bruno and the others I’m certain it’d be much easier for him to take advantage of)

Spy! Reader with a Yandere Diavolo would be fantastic, almost scary in a horror sense. As you can easily doom the gang with your extra intel and knowledge with hanging out with all of them. Not to mention any calls or eventually bumping into Doppio would lead to some very interesting interactions. I can already hear the “dearest y/n” at some point once you succeed on sabotaging the Bucciarati gang.

[spacerockfloater]

Hi.

It's so disheartening to see how a big chunk of TG turned on Aemond and Alicent and only support Aegon now. I deeply dislike most of the writing decisions this season, but people seem to forget that these decisions didn't harm only Aegon's character, but also Aemond, Alicent and Criston's, I would say even more than Aegon's. Nevertheless, after the last week episode I've seen a lot of TG hate directed towards Alicent and Aemond that reminded me of TB discourse and it's just sad.

I would love to hear your opinion on this. Thanks in advance.

Hello there friend! Thank you so much for sending me this ask!

Sigh. This is such a complicated issue. As a fellow TG supporter said recently in one of my posts, us turning against the Targtowers and hating them was exactly what Ryan Condal wanted.

They accidentally made them too sympathetic and righteous in the first season, so they had to ruin them to remind the public of whom they are supposed to hate. It’s sickening.

Alicent’s whole journey was about understanding that she needs to be more fierce and demanding to help her family survive. The first season ended with her being ruthless and ready to sacrifice everything for her children. But now she has regressed back to herself from the first half of S1, a scared little girl that doesn’t have the guts to do what must be done and loses all hope the moment the first tragedy comes her way.

Aegon’s whole journey was him overcoming his bullying tendencies and genuinely supporting his brother and his family. He may have initiated the pink dread incident but when his mother told him to cut the bullshit and stop acting like his nephews are his friends, he had no problem knocking Jace to the floor during practice. He stood tall when his brother was disabled and refused to name his mother as the one who spread the rumour(!) of Nyra’s children being bastards. He spoke his truth with his whole chest. Years later, the moment Aemond rose to answer to Lucerys’s mockery, he was right beside him, toasting with him and smashing Luc’s head on the table. And finally, when everyone turned on Aemond for taking his revenge, it was Aegon who demanded Aemond remain in his council, because that was his brother, his best sword and he wanted him there, even if their mother could not bare to look at him. Aegon rose to the occasion and was ready to become a better person, he seemed to genuinely want to serve his subjects. He loved nothing more in the world than his son and his death tore him apart. But suddenly, next episode he has forgotten all about it and is back at bullying Aemond again? That’s just none-sense. All that character development for nothing.

I did feel like Aemond burning his brother alive went from 0 to 100 real quick. He already got his lick back when he made a fool of Aegon in front of his own council. Aemond is a calculating person. He would know that talking Aegon out of the way would cause more harm than good.

Their relationship has been destroyed. Every TG member hates the others. Ultimately, I think we just have to accept this is bad writing and let go of the show because yikes.

However, if we want to discuss show canon, we should keep the characters accountable for their actions and unfortunately, I am displeased with all of them except from Criston. I’ll keep supporting Aegon, Aemond and Alicent but I must also criticise them for the things that they do if I want to be fair.

That being said, I can see why Alicent is horrified by Aemond’s actions. I can see why people think Aemond went too damn far. At the same time, I can see that Aemond would never just sit down and accept being abused. Add to that his not so secret desire to be king, and you can see why he wouldn’t think twice about turning his brother to ashes.

All in all, I think that every opinion is justified and that we must wait for the new episode to air (Aemond’s interactions with Aegon and Alicent are essential) for some additional insight on the incident of Rook’s Rest.

[babybemydownfall]

things that shimmer in the dark Part IV: Rhys ( Part III ) There was no point denying it so I kissed her instead, hard and demanding. I wanted her tongue on mine, her body melting, opening for me; wanted to make love to her, to feel her surrender - to us, and everything we could be.  AKA An all night love-fest in the Archeron manor. Definitely NSFW. Read on AO3 or under the cut below. (Also, I only recently realised that my avatar, which comes from a poem by Iain S Thomas and which I've had for 10+ years, is Rhysand: There you are. I've been looking for you. How spooky.)

II

By the time we retired to bed after finalising our letter to the Queens, it was gone midnight. Feyre was tense and exhausted. I’d felt her all afternoon and evening, her shield weak, her emotions pouring out across our bond. She’d been anxious and angry; frustrated and forgiving. And whenever she looked at me, she burned.

I had worn a mask all my life, ingrained in me from a young age. And I had very rarely let it slip, despite times when I’d felt overwhelming rage or fear or despair. But it turned out that the most powerful distraction of all was lust. Whenever Feyre turned her beautiful blue-grey eyes on me, I struggled to stay composed, to keep my expression neutral and my breathing even. When her awful oldest sister questioned whether she was too good for human food anymore and Feyre replied that she could eat, drink, fuck and fight even better than before, my fork clanged to my plate as everything inside me went taut with desire. I wanted her so badly, so immediately, that it took every ounce of my willpower not to grab her and winnow us straight back to my house.

And later, as we wrote and rewrote the damned letter, the four of us arguing over each word and punctuation mark, her closeness was certainly a hindrance. When she leaned in to read what I’d written, I felt her long hair brushing my neck; the curve of her breast against my arm. The scent of her skin, of her arousal, was intoxicating. I would not let Cass and Azriel suspect a thing but whenever I was sure they weren’t looking, I touched her as much as I dared - my finger brushing hers on the page; my thigh shifting on my chair so it pressed against her knee. I loved the way her body reacted: a soft, short inhale; a pulse of longing down the bond.

I found myself thinking multiple times that I was so glad we had had each other in the kitchen earlier. I couldn’t imagine how difficult the rest of the day would have been without that release. And I had meant what I’d said to her there: this thing between us was a bad idea, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I had spent the previous day avoiding her, my mind constantly churning over what I should do. Getting drunk hadn’t helped - I only ended up sad and missing her. I had barely slept afterwards, thanks to the alcohol and my racing thoughts and the memories of our first morning together which left me with a very persistent erection.

When she found me in the kitchen, I still didn’t know what the right thing to do was. But as soon as I scented her, when I saw how fucking stunning she looked and how she went slack with longing for me, I realised there was no actual choice here. I couldn’t just bare myself to her - literally and emotionally - and simply walk away. She was my mate. This was bigger than both of us: it was what the Cauldron had destined; a bond more sacred and permanent than any other. It was inescapable. Undeniable. And Feyre didn’t know the truth, but I knew she felt it too: that we were something extraordinary.

And now, finally, we were alone together once again. She hadn’t reacted when I’d said we would share a room - a room I had immediately shielded, to keep loud sounds in and bad things out. But she did turn to me in surprise when I made my own bed appear and sat down on it.

“What are you doing?”

I looked up at her, still dressed in her stunning turquoise outfit. She wore it like she belonged in the Night Court. Or perhaps it wore her. It wanted her - just as I did.

“Being on my best behaviour,” I replied evenly. “We’re in your father’s house. I didn’t know if you’d want to…”

“I’ve spent all evening trying to keep my hands off you. And now you don’t want to touch me?”

She sounded like she was annoyed with me, which made me smile. “Oh, I do want to touch you, Feyre darling.” My voice was low. “Every single inch of you.”

There was a fire crackling in the hearth across the room and it shone in her dark eyes, in the golden waves of her hair. I leaned back on my outstretched arms and her gaze travelled down my body. I was still fully dressed but she knew what lay beneath now; and if I hadn’t been wearing black, she would have been able to see my cock rise in my pants.

“The last time I was in this house,” she said quietly, “I left to run after Tamlin. To go under the mountain and save him. And yet here I am, barely any time later… with you.” She tugged at her sleeve, looking around the room. “That’s wrong, isn’t it?”

I waited until her eyes met mine again. She seemed so vulnerable, so young all of a sudden. “I don’t think it is,” I told her honestly. “I don’t think time is what matters, in our case.”

“Then what does matter?”

I held out my hand. “Come here.”

Slowly she moved towards me and took it, standing between my legs. I may as well have been kneeling before her again, such was her position of power over me right now.

“What matters, Feyre, is how you feel. What makes you happy. What helps you heal. And I think I can speak to that, because you are all those things for me. Already.”

I felt her tremble in front of me. She was scared. And I knew why - but I couldn’t hide the depth of my feelings from her. I didn’t want to.

“Why does this seem so… inevitable?” she whispered.

Because I am your mate.

I could have told her then. No doubt it would have helped ease the guilt she still carried over Tamlin, the confusion she felt over us. But this was not the place: not in the human lands, in her family home; not when there was danger out there, lurking beyond my Court’s protection. And not when it meant I would have to face her rejection - because she wasn’t ready yet. Wasn’t healed, wasn’t strong enough. And neither was I, to have her push me away.

For now I would take whatever she was willing to give - her friendship, her smiles, her body - and not think too far into the future. As she had so wisely said: we might all die soon. And I would be a fool not to enjoy every moment with her, because I had known from the second I first saw her that she was the light in my eternal darkness.

Instead of saying any of that, I lifted my hands to her hips and guided her to straddle my lap. She did so without hesitation, settling halfway along my thighs - not near enough to feel how hard I was for her. Not yet. But having her this close, all to myself behind a locked door, I felt my soul sigh.

There you are. I’ve been looking for you.

“Perhaps it is inevitable,” I said softly. “The question is, what do you want to do about it? You are in charge here. I will follow your lead.”

I had never uttered those words before, outside of battle when I fell in line behind my commander. But I trusted Feyre with everything I was. I saw her, with all her broken pieces and her courageous human heart and the magic she contained which had nothing to do with her powers. I wanted it all.

And she wanted me too. It was in her beautiful eyes; written all over her face. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her neck. I felt her body melt in my arms, her head tilting back. My name rose from her lips to the ceiling, like a prayer.

“Rhys.”

I kissed her there again, the scent of her blood filling my senses; moved up to her ear where I breathed: “What do you want, darling?”

Her fingers slid into my hair, drawing me back so she could look at me. At the same time, I took hold of her hips and pulled her into me, connecting the heat of her core with the raging hardness of mine.

The air sparked around us and we both groaned.

“You,” Feyre murmured, her breath on my mouth, her gaze filled with nothing but lust - that most powerful of emotions, sweeping everything else aside. “I want you. All over me. All night long.”

A smile started to form on my lips but she kissed me before it got there. And from that moment on, we were lost. Our hands slipped beneath each other’s clothes onto warm, sensitive skin. I had never had the pleasure of physically undressing her before, of slowly revealing her exquisite body inch by inch. I followed the fabric of her top with my lips, from her navel to her ribcage to her bare breasts, so pert and full and ready for my attention. She moaned so headily when I circled my tongue over her nipples and I could smell her arousal as it flooded her underwear, as she ground herself against my length.

The top disappeared over her head and then we worked together to remove mine as well. As our mouths found each other again I slid my arm up along the column of her spine, my hand splayed between her shoulder blades, and drew her further into me so her bare chest pressed against mine. Her kisses were voracious, her moans constant as she rocked her hips and took her pleasure from me.

Untamed Feyre was the hottest thing I had ever encountered.

And then she suddenly pulled back to look at me, her eyes so dark with desire, her voice husky as she commanded: “Take me to bed, Rhys.”

I could not have refused her if my life depended on it.

I carried her there, drawing back the duvet and laying her down. I had already warmed the sheets and she looked surprised, grateful. But she didn’t speak - couldn’t, perhaps - as she grasped at my shoulders and pulled me onto her, reclaiming my mouth, touching every part of me within reach. I covered us again, burying down with her into the softness of the bed as we kissed on and on. I had never known how thoroughly arousing it was, to be half-bare and writhing around by the light of the fire, our sounds hushed and urgent. Despite my shield, we were both aware of my brothers just next door, of Feyre’s sisters down the hall - but that only added to the mood.

This was secret and sacred and ours.

I eventually trailed my lips down to her breasts again, and then further - kissing her centre through her trousers before kneeling between her legs and slipping them off entirely. She was wearing the same lacy white panties I’d watched her put back on in the kitchen, and they were wet through. I heard myself growl as I pulled them off too, the urge to taste her impossible to resist, but she stopped me from getting anywhere near her with her bare foot on my chest.

I stared at her, unable to fathom why she would deny me.

“I’m in charge, remember?” she said firmly. “Lie down.”

Giving up control was not natural for me - but Feyre was a goddess and I obeyed.

She made very quick work of my pants and underwear, and then slid all the way down the bed and wrapped her hot mouth around me. I had never known anything so good before: the sight of her there, the brush of her hair and her hands on my thighs and abdomen, the way she sucked and licked and bobbed up and down-

I reached for her after barely any time at all, tugging on her shoulders, groaning her name. But she ignored me and carried on. Her eyes met mine and I imprinted the image in my mind, of the lust and determination in her gaze, of my cock disappearing between her lips over and over again, her rhythm faultless, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Feyre,” I gasped, “I’m-”

She scratched her fingernails all the way down my torso and I came, so hard I lost all of my senses for the longest, most ecstatic moment. I felt her fingers cover my mouth, to keep me quiet, but there was no fucking chance when her tongue was still swirling over me, when my hips were still bucking and I was still coming. It was unbearable and heavenly and I never, ever wanted it to end.

Eventually I did return to the present; felt Feyre retreat and opened my eyes to find her looking down at me with a very satisfied smirk. I was too dazed to speak, to tell her how fucking amazing she felt and what I wanted to do to her next - but it didn’t matter. She had let her fingers drift down onto my chest; I took her wrist and brought her palm back to my lips, licking the tattooed eye there in a single broad stroke. Her smirk disappeared as she felt me in her very core.

I tugged on her hips, pulling her up my body until she was kneeling over my face. She braced herself on the headboard and I inhaled her incredible scent, all her muscles trembling, her breathing shallow, ragged. And then I feasted on her, gorging myself on her softness and her taste, eating her gorgeous cunt until she was all over my face. I kneaded her ass, explored her thighs; slid two fingers inside her and fucked her like that while I sucked on her clit. She came in no time at all, with a muffled scream and a gush of wetness which I lapped up like I was dying of thirst.

When she collapsed onto me, I gently drew her back down into bed to lie by my side so we were facing one another, our limbs loosely entwined. I took half a second to clean my face with magic, but left her taste on my tongue. It would be sacrilege to erase that.

She smiled, gazing at me through heavily lidded eyes. “You are very good at that,” she said, and she shivered - an aftershock. It made my cock ache for her.

“You taste fucking divine, Feyre. I can’t get enough of you. And your mouth…” I outlined her lips with my thumb; they parted and I traced over her bottom teeth too. “So pretty, yet so wicked. I’ve never felt anything so phenomenal.”

I pressed my lower body into hers, letting her know I was ready for more. She looked straight at me and bit down on my nail, firm enough to hurt. Beneath the duvet I felt her hand wrap around my length. Flames roared to life in my blood once more and I hissed, like the wild beast I was.

“So eager,” she teased, licking the sensitive pad of my thumb.

There was no point denying it so I kissed her instead, hard and demanding. I wanted her tongue on mine, her body melting, opening for me; wanted to make love to her, to feel her surrender - to us, and everything we could be. Without thinking I reached for her down the bond, needing her closer, even though physically there was no space between us. As I felt her grip onto me, an embrace around my very soul, I rolled on top of her perfect body and thrust inside her: back where I belonged.

She cried out at being so full; hooked her legs around my waist, inviting me deeper, and I moved slowly at first, trying to be restrained until that became impossible. She felt so good, so right, that I just couldn’t contain myself. And she wanted it: I felt her desire envelop mine inside my mind, where we were intertwined; swallowed the words she gasped into my mouth - “Harder… More… Rhys! Fuck… Yes, more…”

I tilted her pelvis with my hand and reached new depths, and she broke away from my kiss to let out the most guttural sound as she clenched and shook and stretched around me. I dipped my head, sucking on her neck, her right breast, her nipple; kept rolling my hips, fucking her faster and harder than ever before. We were both grunting, moaning, sweat on our skin, her nails digging into my back - and then we were coming, together, a crescendo of movement and sound and rising, cresting pleasure that felt like it would never end.

It didn’t, for a long time. I might have drifted off to sleep briefly, for when I next opened my eyes I was lying on my front on the bed, the duvet over my lower body, feeling more relaxed than I had in decades.

I reached out for Feyre down the bond, checking she was okay; felt her in the adjoining bathroom and closed my eyes again, letting myself doze. Eventually I heard her footsteps on the carpet and then the bed shifted as she sat beside me. Her fingertips traced lightly down my spine and I groaned at how nice it felt.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos here,” she said softly. “And your wings…” She touched the strong muscles of my upper back. “I want to see you with them.”

My voice was so low it made my ribcage vibrate. “You have.”

“Naked,” she clarified.

I smiled. “One day. Not here.”

She leaned in, surrounding me with her scent, her hair; pressed gentle kisses to my ear, my cheek, the corner of my lips. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched me with so much tenderness. The last time anyone had cared about me like this. It made my throat hurt.

When I finally opened my eyes her face was all I could see, so close to mine, our every breath shared. She smiled and sat back up, and that’s when I realised she was wearing my shirt. It was unbuttoned, and she was still completely naked beneath. I had never seen anything so sexy.

My emotions were forgotten in an instant.

“Feyre.”

I rose up, kneeling in front of her, taking her in.

“I was cold,” she said, a little defensive, a little surprised by the strength of my reaction.

“You look…” I reached for her, pulling her against me. I had thought I was completely sated - I was wrong. “Let me warm you up.”

This insatiable need for each other, this wild passion - it felt endless. Frenzied. We fell to the bed and she straddled my waist, discarding the shirt to the floor. As she began to kiss me all over, the small part of my brain which remained functional wondered what would happen if she ever accepted the mating bond. How we would survive.

Then it gave in as Feyre washed over me, as I let myself drown in her once again.

When she rode me she held my hands, our fingers interlaced. I could do nothing but stare at her. The way the firelight danced over the planes of her body as she moved; the flush on her skin, the dark desire pouring from her eyes. I was no painter, but she was a piece of art.

“Feyre darling,” I breathed, grazing my palms along her thighs, feeling my climax building slowly, deliciously. “Will you touch yourself for me? I want to watch you.”

Her dream of me was only a night ago - it felt like a century.

She put her fingers in my mouth and I licked them, my desire rocketing at how fearless she was, how unembarrassed. If I had thought she’d be hesitant in bed or perhaps shied by our age gap, by her relative lack of experience, I was wrong. And yet she was not a sultry, confident vixen either. I could only conclude that she really did trust me, enough to be herself, to show herself to me - to be bare in every possible way.

And that made me more hopeful for our future together than anything else we’d said or done.

Now she circled her clit, her left hand holding her breast, pinching her nipple. Her tattoos were a stunning contrast to the rest of her pale skin. When the sensations became too much, her head tilted back and her spine arched, her long messy curls almost reaching her bottom. And still I watched, my hips now thrusting of their own accord, meeting her movements. I was already at the edge; could have let myself fall at any second. But I held on, waiting for her, completely awed by how fucking incredible she was.  

If things had been different, I would have told her I loved her. The words were on the tip of my tongue, filling my mind. I let the smallest trickle of that golden feeling travel down the bond to her. Even though she didn’t know its name, I knew she liked it - saw the smile on her lips, felt her clench and tighten as I pounded into her harder, faster, as she peaked and then shattered.

It was too much. I lifted her off me, turning her onto her front, pulling up her hips. She was weak, boneless; still in the throes of her pleasure. “You have to be quiet,” I rasped and then I thrust inside her again, deeper than ever before. Her hands fisted the duvet and she bit it, her screams subdued but still there, still heavenly to hear.

“Feyre,” I groaned, the sweetest sound in the world. “Fuck, Feyre. You feel- I’m so- ”

I spilled inside her with a roar, breaking my own rule but utterly unable to care. I felt her coming too, a continuation of her last orgasm. Endless, all-consuming fulfilment.

This time we were both thoroughly done. I fell to her side, bringing her body with me so I was spooned up behind her, quickly cleaning us up with half a thought. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to move again. I didn’t want to. I pressed my face into her neck, inhaling her, wishing I could disappear into her forever. If there was nothing else but this, I would die happy.

Our breathing gradually slowed. The fire had burned low, the moon now illuminating us through the uncovered window. I ran the fingers of my left hand along the ink on Feyre’s arm, watching as the soft blonde hairs stood on end in my wake. I knew the bond that tied us together wasn’t the bargain that had been written on her skin: it was the mating bond. That’s why we could communicate, why we could feel so much of each other. I wondered how it would change if we were ever truly mated. How much more of her I would feel, how deeply I would know her. I wanted her to be mine so badly it made my soul ache.

The bond was another secret I kept. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold it inside.

“What time is it?” she asked, her words merging into a yawn.

“Fuck knows.” I was tired and emotional, which always made me swear more. That and having sex with Feyre.

I pulled the covers over us and then looked outside. The air was still and crisp. There had been snowfall earlier, but it had stopped now. “Usually,” I said, voicing my thoughts aloud, “I can feel the night. The coming of the dawn. But the darkness is different on this side of the Wall. It’s not… mine.”

She turned her head towards me. The moonlight caught her eyes, making them shine. “I love your darkness,” she said quietly. “I feel it, under my skin. It soothes me. Of all the powers I was given, yours is my favourite.”

You were made for me, I wanted to tell her. Wanted to shout it, for the whole world to hear. It’s so obvious. Can’t you see?

And then she went on sleepily: “The nights feel longer here. I was born on the longest, actually. The Winter Solstice.”

I was stunned. Totally speechless. She must have mistaken my silence for fatigue, because she whispered goodnight and in less than a minute, she was asleep.

I held her, wide awake, heart hammering. I kissed the point of her ear and murmured, so softly it was almost inaudible: “You are my mate, Feyre Archeron. And I fucking love you.”

II

TBC...

[astariondisapproves]

Tav had been acting strange recently, they were more silent, and more reserved. This hadn't gone unnoticed by the people in camp but it hadn't been discussed either since nobody thought it was strange. After all they had been taking on increasingly laborious missions.

They chose to go towards Astarions tent one night slowly and quietly. With each step hyperconcious of the dirt below their feet, and the cold breeze feeling like it went through them. Closer and closer to him, their nerves were palpable.

After what felt like hours but was probably just a few seconds they stood a couple of feet in front of his tent, and they called to him with a soft voice "Astarion, are you awake..."

There was no response, so they stayed in place like a statue. Choosing to talk to apparently no one to not bother him any further.

"Hey, I appreciate you a lot Astarion, I had been feeling down recently and being arround you and getting to know you better slowly is very nice". They said, voice cracking with every word and their fingers played with the hem of the nightgown they had on, looking down as they continued their rambling.

"I won't go into details but just know that I feel a little less alone after hearing your story and I hope you know that you are not alone in this world, I love you Astarion, more than you can imagine" With those final words they had started crying, their face looked still and their eyes were lost, looking at nowhere in particular, with their confession floating in the air they slowly turned away, getting ready to go back to their tent.

His dagger was drawn in an instant as he heard footsteps approach his tent. Astarion, back against the flap of the tent, was ready to maim in an instant. Intent to kill, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, cold sweat starting to form. If he had a heartbeat, he was sure the late night intruder would hear the loud thumping. That was until the footsteps stopped, and Tav's voice called out to him, just outside the flap, mere inches from his blade. He held his breath and lowered his dagger, listening to the croak of their voice as it cracks, as if they were breaking. Something wasn't right...

That overwhelming sinking feeling in his chest came to fruition as Tav confessed between broken sobs. He furrows his eyebrows and clenches his fists, tossing his dagger to the dirt with a clank and brushing his arm to open the flap. He's met with Tav's back to him.

"I...I've been selfish, Y/N. And I think I'll continue to make selfish choices...please forgive me,"

He says softly, tugging Tav close to him, his hands resting on their hips as he nestles his head into the nape of their neck. Astarion takes a deep breath, as if taking in Tav's very essence.

The lies he continued to tell himself over and over stopped tonight. He was irrevocably in love with Tav, that much was certain. He didn't plan for this to happen. This was the opposite of his plan, but that festering, burning desire raged hotter than Avernus, and it broke him. He was terrified.

His grip became tighter around Tav's hips as his fangs grazed their neck, as if he were marking them, but then he pulled away, stopping himself. And taking a steady breath, he continues.

"I have absolutely nothing to give you.. I am merely a shadow of the man I used to be. You won't be able to live the life of luxury you deserve, but Gods be damned if I let anyone take you away from me. So please...forgive me for my selfishness, because...I—"

Tav's back was still turned away from him, so he twirls them around, resting his arm around the crevice of their back and, with his free hand, gently wipes their falling tears away. Astarion gazes at Tav, his ruby eyes shining under the smoldering light of the campfire, a look so full of love.

"I love you too, more than you know... so don't cry, darling. I'm right here."

He murmurs, his breath tickling their nose before he brushes his lips against theirs.