#strange magic monday

[radioactivepeasant]

This Week's Prompt Poll

(Mistaken Identity au is the premise of "Jak and company are found in the desert and the Wastelanders come to a "close, but not quite" conclusion about why he looks so much like Damas. Damas is in crisis wondering if he's actually had two kids this whole time and didn't know about Jak. Jak is confused and positive they're all mistaken. Everyone else assumes he's being Difficult to punish Damas for not being there his whole childhood. Comedy of errors + "task failed successfully".

[slippery-minghus]

feeling like absolute garbage today and trying so so so so hard to not let it get to me. i know why i feel this way (bad pain week, exhausted both from work changes and staying up late last night) which means i know how to fix it. the trouble is just that i can't do the i know how to fix it until much later today. i can only muddle through until work is done.

[ironstrange1991]

The Healing Touch

Pairing: Stephen!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The Reader has a terrible headache and Stephen goes full doctor mode to take care of her

Word Count: 4,1k

A/N: This fic is total self indulgent. The entire medical part is based on my experience with the worst headache I've ever had in my life. I had to take something positive from the whole situation. Hope you guys like it and have a nice reading ;)

You had never had such a bad headache in your entire life. It was strong enough to bring tears to your eyes and prevent you from working. It had all started with an allergy attack due to the renovation work in the office building where you worked. Even taking the anti-allergy medication you were used to taking, things only got worse and soon your airways were completely blocked and you had an incessant cough that made you want to vomit your guts out.

But things got worse when you woke up on Friday with a headache that simply wouldn't go away no matter how many painkillers you took. The persistent pain got worse over the days, reaching its peak on Monday morning. When you woke up, you simply couldn't open your eyes, and when you tried to get up, your head hurt with a piercing throb that made you sit down again and fall into silent tears. 

It was a nightmare. Stephen was on mission and you hadn't been able to talk to him in the last few days. You were practically married to a doctor, but you couldn't count on him to help you when you needed it most and that only made you cry even more, giving in to despair.

After a few minutes you forced yourself to get up and staggered to the bathroom where you forced yourself into the shower, hoping that the cold water would somehow help you, but there was no improvement. As you were changing your clothes, feeling dizzy from the strength of the pain and the throbbing in your forehead, you decided that you would take a taxi and go straight to the hospital. By that point, your anxious mind was already telling you that you had a brain tumor.

You were slowly walking down the stairs, each step you took making your head ache even more, when you heard the familiar hiss of a portal opening in the entrance hall. You didn't feel excited, already imagining it was Wong and the light coming from the windows and the door barely allowed you to open your eyes to see anything, but then you heard a baritone voice informing you that it was Stephen who had arrived.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong?" His voice was a big relief, although it sounded extremely worried and as if by magic - which it was - he was by your side, helping you to put your arm around his neck and picking you up. He quickly went downstairs and took you to the nearest sofa in the main hall and knelt in front of you. Cloaky let go of his shoulders and flew nervously across the room, stopping behind the sofa and watching you.

Stephen's presence, although a relief, made you succumb to tears again.

"Hey, Y/n, look at me, tell me what's going on, you look pale. What are you feeling?" He asked, going into full doctor mode and forcing your eyes open so he could examine them.

"My head is exploding." You finally managed to speak. "It's been hurting since Friday, but today it's unbearable, Stephen. I can't handle the pain."

Stephen conjured a small flashlight to examine your pupils and then hummed to himself looking relieved. "The pupils are normal. That's good. Can you follow my finger, please?" He asked, raising his index finger to the level of your eyes and directing it to the left and then to the right slowly. You followed the movement with your eyes to which he praised.

"Very good. Now tell me how many fingers you see." He asked, showing you three fingers.

"Three."

"Very good. And now?" He showed you one finger.

"One."

"Good. One more time. How many fingers?" He asked, closing his fist.

"None."

He nodded, sighing in relief. But the small wrinkle that always appeared between his eyebrows was still there.

"How is your vision? Can you see perfectly or is it blurry? Any black spots or spots of light?"

You shook your head. "I can see, but I can't keep my eyes open because the light makes it hurt even more." You whimpered. "The pain is too bad, Stephen. I don't know what to do."

Stephen shushed you, putting the small flashlight aside and bringing his two thumbs to your forehead, positioning them just above your eyebrows and pressing them there in circular motions.

"Fuck." You hissed.

"I hit the spot, didn't I? Here is where it hurts the most?"

You nodded. "And inside of my eyes and on my cheeks. It feels like my whole face hurts. Even my teeth."

He hummed positively but remained silent, moving his fingers from your forehead to your cheekbones and down to the joint of your jaw, putting some pressure there.

"It hurts so much, Stephen. What if I have a brain tumor? Or... or an aneurysm? What if I have an aneurysm?" Your voice was getting shakier and shakier, and heavy tears fell from your eyes. "I don't want to die, Stephen. I don't want to." You said, clinging to him and hiding your face in his neck as you gave in to crying again.

Stephen wrapped you in his arms, one of his hands stroking your hair as he shushed you. "You're not going to die, sweetheart, and you don't have an aneurysm or a brain tumor." He said, trying to reassure you.

"But it hurts too much." You whimpered.

"I know. I'll make it stop. I promise. I'm here now. But you need to let me go so I can go to the drug store to get your medication."

But the idea seemed absurd to you and instead of letting him go, you tightened your arms around him even more, which made him grunt softly and pull your hands away gently.

"What you have is called sinusitis. It's a serious inflammation of the airways that causes secretions to build up in this region here." He explained, pulling you away enough so he could illustrate what he was saying. He ran his index finger along your cheekbones and above your nose. "Because of the inflammation, you feel pain here." He continued moving his finger down to your jaw. "That's why your teeth hurt too." You nodded.

"But why does my head have to hurt so much? I don't understand." You asked, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand.

"Because the inflammation causes the facial muscles to tense up, which causes all the pain." He explained, standing up, but you held his hand tightly.

"Don't leave me alone. Please."

Stephen sighed. "I really need to go, love. The sooner you get your medication, the faster you'll get rid of the pain. Isn't that what you want?" He asked and you nodded, but kept holding his hand anyway.

"I had an idea. What if Clocky stays with you while I go, huh? Do you think that's a good idea?"

Before you could even answer, you felt the sentient relic moving excitedly behind you.

"It really loves you, you know?" Stephen insisted and you finally let go of his hand and watched him gesticulate with his head for the relic to come closer. Cloaky quickly flew over the couch and wrapped you in a comfortable hug. One of the things you loved about it - besides the fact that it was a magical piece of clothing that had thoughts and feelings just like Aladdin's carpet and you thought that was amazing - was that it smells like Stephen.

The warmth and soft touch comforted you somehow and you leaned against the back of the couch and curled your legs up trying to get as comfortable as possible.

"That's great, sweetie. I'll be back in a minute. I promise." He said and with a quick gesture of his fingers his robes were exchanged for jeans and a shirt and he walked quickly towards the door.

...

Stephen hated waiting in line. He had always been impatient, but ever since he learned the mystic arts he simply couldn't accept that there were things he couldn't solve with magic. Sure, he could open a portal and get the medication he needed, but that would be stealing and he considered himself an honest enough guy to do that. So there he was waiting in line at the checkout with a basket in his hand, waiting for the woman to pass the purchases of the person in front of him with an almost deliberate slowness while everyone in the drug store continued to stare at him in the strange way that everyone else stared at him when they recognized him.

When it was finally his turn, the woman named Katia looked at him with a sour face and said in a tedious manner, "Prescription, please."

Stephen sighed, "I don't have a prescription. I'm a doctor. The medication is for me." He lied shamelessly.

The woman cast a suspicious look at the basket and then at him. "I'll need to see your license."

Stephen sighed, letting his irritation show. "Come on, you know who I am. Everyone knows I'm a doctor."

"I'll need your license, sir."

Stephen sighed, taking out his wallet and opening it with difficulty because his hands were shaking more then usual. He took the document and showed it to her, then put it back.

"That's 145 dollars." She said, finally putting the boxes inside a plastic bag and handing it to him.

"Keep the change for the wonderful service." He said ironically, handing her the money and finally leaving the drug store and returning to the usual movement of Manhattan.

When Stephen finally returned home, it seemed like it had taken hours, but it had only been 25 minutes. He found you still in the same position, cuddled with Cloaky and with your eyes closed. He quickly moved his fingers, closing all the curtains in the room and approaching.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I tried to go as fast as I could..." He said and Cloaky gently pulled away from your hold and flew up the stairs.

He sat down next to you and conjured a glass of water and handed it in your hands while he opened the medication boxes and took out the pills and put in your hand.

"This is an anti-inflammatory, this one is an antibiotic and together they will cure the inflammation and relieve the tension."

You nodded, putting the two pills in your mouth and swallowing them with a sip of water. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that you didn't question him, just trusted him completely. He knew that a big part of that trust was because you loved him, but an important part was because you trusted him as a doctor and Stephen missed that. He missed being a doctor, having people's trust in that way and feeling good about being able to save a life or help someone in that way.

"This one is for the pain. It's a strong painkiller and should take effect within a few minutes. It will make you drowsy, though."

You took the pill and threw it in your mouth, swallowing it quickly while you poured the glass of water. Stephen smiled tenderly, taking the glass and placing it on the coffee table. Then he took a small bottle from the bag and opened it, showing you how to use it. "This one you spray twice in each nostril, and it will help decongest your nose and make you breathe better."

But instead of taking the bottle from his hand, you just got closer to him and put your head forward, waiting for him to apply the medicine to you. Stephen let out a small chuckle, feeling his chest get warm. You were so cute. Even in that situation that wasn't the least bit funny, you managed to be extremely adorable.

"There you go." He said, finishing the application of the medicine and putting them all back in the bag and placing the bag on the table. "Now come here." He asked, stretching out his arms so you could snuggle into his chest. “I think you need cuddles.”

He hugged you, gently resting his chin on the top of your head. "I'm sorry I wasn’t here for you, sweetheart. I hate these missions sometimes, especially when we can't communicate." He confessed. Deep down he was feeling extremely guilty about the situation, even though he knew it wasn't his fault. If he had been there, he would have diagnosed the problem sooner and spared you so much pain. After all, what was the point of dating a doctor if you couldn't count on him when you needed him most?

"You're here now. That's all that matters." You answered, lifting your head to look at him and it broke his heart to see your eyes red with tears like that. He cupped your cheek gently. "Can I kiss you? I heard that getting a kiss from me is the best medicine for sinusitis." He joked, managing to get a small smile from your lips.

 "Kiss me all you want then." You said with a tired smile and he giggled, kissing you softly on the lips and then giving small kisses on your cheeks, on the tip of your nose, finishing on your forehead.

You hummed softly. "I love you, Steph." You said, laying your head back on his chest.

"And I love you, sweetheart. More than you can imagine." He confessed and you hummed again, but remained silent and he respected your silence. He knew that the pain you were feeling wasn’t small. Sinus headaches could be extremely painful, and you had endured it for as long as you could without asking for help. He only wished you had gone to the hospital sooner. He hated seeing you in pain.

...

You didn't realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up to the sound of soft voices talking. Stephen hadn't moved a muscle apparently, possibly to avoid waking you up, but now he was talking to someone.

"I'm glad she's okay now. Give her my best wishes when she wakes up." You heard Wong's voice and kept your eyes closed. The excruciating pain had passed, but your head was still sore and there was still a slight throb above your eyebrows.

"Are you going back to Kamar Taj yet?" You heard Stephen ask.

"Yes. Lots to do as usual. I'll let you rest for the night, Stephen. We'll talk tomorrow morning. Send me an update on Y/n when she wakes up." And as soon as he finished speaking, you heard the squeak of the portal opening and closing and then silence followed only by the sporadic sound of cars passing by on the street.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised to find the Sanctum plunged into darkness. A single lamp was on, emanating a dim light from the kitchen. You had no idea how many hours you had slept, but you were completely dizzy, probably due to the effect of the medicine. You yawned and rubbed your eyes slowly, noticing that the pain behind them had also diminished considerably. Stephen moved slowly and then stroked your hair.

"Are you awake, sweetheart?" His voice was hoarse and heavy with sleep, which made you wonder if he had fallen asleep too.

"What time is it?" You asked softly.

"Almost nine." He answered. "You've slept for almost ten hours."

You rubbed your eyes again and then looked at him in surprise. "You've been here this whole time?"

"I left you in Cloaky's care so I could shower and eat, but I basically spent the day on this couch. I ended up falling asleep too, which is a rarity. I woke up to Wong calling me and asking for a book."

You smiled to yourself. "I'm glad you got some rest too."

He hummed positively. "How are you feeling? Better, I hope."

You nodded, slowly lifting your head to look at him now that your eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

"My head is sore, hurts a little, but the excruciating pain is gone."

Stephen smiled, cupping your cheek and stroking it slowly with his thumb. "That's great. But I'm afraid you'll need to take another painkiller now to give the anti-inflammatory time to kick in before the pain starts to come back." He explained.

"But if I take another one of those I'll sleep for another ten hours." You complained, to which he shook his head.

"I think a Tylenol will do for now. I'll get it for you." He said, threatening to get up, but you held him in place and cupped his face.

"Stay. Just a minute more."

He smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'll be back in a moment."

You let him go reluctantly, but took the opportunity to sit up. Your body was limp and you felt like you were slightly drunk, so you avoided getting up. Suddenly you saw your bag on the coffee table and remembered that you hadn't even texted your boss, but before you could think to do so, Stephen was back answering the question you hadn't even voiced.

"I called the office and told them you were sick. You're staying home tomorrow too, by the way. Doctor's orders."

You nodded, watching him approach. He was wearing gray pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair, always impeccable, was messy and a few strands fell over his forehead. He looked handsome as always, but you couldn't help but notice a nasty cut on his cheek that you hadn't noticed before.

"You're hurt." You said as he sat down next to you, handing you a Tylenol pill and picking up the empty glass on the table and handing it to you. With a simple gesture of his hand, the glass filled with water.

"It's nothing. Drink it."

You obeyed, and the whole time he looked at you with tenderness in his eyes, but the crease between his eyebrows was still there.

"I'm fine, Stephen. Really."

He nodded, taking the glass from your hand and placing it back on the table.

"Seeing you in pain was a horrible experience, Y/n. It made me think that I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, and I'm not just talking about illnesses. The work I do, the things I deal with are extremely evil. It makes me think about the risk you run by living with me."

You smiled, trying to ignore what he was saying, but deep down you knew he was right. Living in the Sanctum with the Master of the Mystic Arts was a risk, but one you were willing to take because you loved him. "Let's not think about that." You simply said. "I'm fine and you came back from your mission safe and sound. That's all that matters."

He nodded, taking your hand in his and promptly changed the subject. "You need to eat something before taking the next dose of medication."

"Pizza." You asked immediately, which made him giggle.

"I was thinking about a salad..."

"I thought I was going to die today from a brain tumor. Fuck the salad, I want pepperoni pizza with lots of cheese and chocolate ice cream for dessert."

Stephen smiled broadly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Whatever you say. I'll order and while we wait, I'll help you take a shower. What do you think?"

You nodded. "I don't think I can stand up on my own to do it anyway. Whatever you gave me made me totally dizzy."

"I told you it was strong, didn't I? But the important thing is that it took the pain away."

You nodded. "Thanks for taking care of me, Steph."

"That's what you do when you love someone, isn't it? You've taken care of me so many times, sweetheart. I lost count of how many times you patched me up after I came back from a mission. That’s what people who love each other do."

You smiled "I really do love you."

...

Stephen had never seen you eat pizza so eagerly and then devour two bowls of ice cream. It was cute. Even your childish palate was something he found adorable about you. He ate four slices of pizza himself and found himself having seconds of dessert, which he rarely did. After a day like the one you had, he was sure you both deserved the comfort of the food.

Finally, you got ready for bed and ended up in bed with the lamp on, giving the room a low, comfortable light.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked to confirm, but it was clear from the look in your eyes that the medication was taking effect.

"Better. I barely feel any pain, but my head is still sore."

He caressed your face, watching you settle into the pillows next to him. "It's normal after such intense pain. You'll be better tomorrow."

You smiled, biting your lower lip and making that little face you always did when you wanted something, but you didn't say anything, you just brought your hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in it and scratching gently. Stephen closed his eyes, indulging in the touch and only then noticing how tired he was. The mission had been energetic, it had been a really hard few days that had taken a lot out of him physically and although he had managed to sleep for an hour or two, he could feel the exhaustion taking over him.

"Hm, it feels so good." He found himself confessing as he melted into your touch. "I missed you, sweetheart. Every day all I could think about was that I wanted to go home." He opened his eyes to see you smiling sweetly at him and slowly you snuggled closer to him as he automatically reached out to hold you impossibly close.

You cupped his cheek and pulled him to your lips, kissing him slowly, but with a growing desire. "I missed you too. I had plans for when you got back. I wanted to surprise you with a special dinner, but it wasn't possible." You said and he smiled reassuringly.

"Well, even though the day wasn't the most pleasant, it's safe to say we had a special dinner tonight. The pizza was very good." He said smirking.

"But there was something else I wanted to give you when you got back." You said, hooking your leg around his hip teasingly and Stephen soon understood what you were up to, but even though he wanted it as much as you did, he was forced to reason.

"Unfortunately, it's not a good idea, sweetheart, even though I really want it."

You frowned, clearly annoyed. "Why not? After the day I've had, don't I deserve a little affection?"

Stephen nodded with a smile. Of course you did. You deserved everything you wanted and he believed he deserved it too after the mission he had just returned from, but it wasn't always possible to get what you deserved. "Trust me, you do, but I don't want to risk making your headache worse."

You stared at him, not understanding what one thing had to do with the other, and he chuckled, trying to explain in a way that made sense.

"Remember what we talked about the tension in your facial muscles making your head hurt?"

You nodded.

"When we make love and you have a good time, which is always, I hope, the pleasure makes you tense the muscles of your entire body, even those on your face and especially during orgasm, which could lead to an orgasmic headache."

You rolled your lips, trying not to laugh. "Did you just make that up?"

Stephen let out a soft laugh. "Of course not. I'm serious. It's a real problem that you don’t have, but given the sinusitis, orgasm could be a trigger for a worsening of your condition."

You buried your face in his neck, laughing softly, and the sound was very welcome after he had seen you crying in pain earlier. "Believe me, I would never make that up, especially since I'm climbing the walls after so many days without sex."

"It hasn't been that many days." You contradicted him. "But I believe you, as stupid as it may seem. I just hate this fucking sinus thing even more now." You groaned.

"Your treatment will last five days, but after that we will have plenty of time to make up for it, trust me."

You sighed, lifting your head to look at him. "You'll have to make it up to me tonight with lots of kisses."

Stephen smiled. "As many as you want, sweetheart." He said, pulling you back to his lips.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[klapollo-week]

The prompts for Klapollo Week 2024 have been finalized!

Thanks so much to all who submitted prompt ideas and all who helped vote for their favorite prompts. Now, without any further ado, it’s time to reveal this year’s prompts!

Sunday, September 29, 2024: Pets

Klavier and Apollo both have pets that they take care of; a cat named Mikeko for Apollo, and a dog named Vongole for Klavier. How do these two creatures interact? How do they adapt to new, strange people visiting their owners suspiciously often? How do these furry friends influence their owners and their owners’ love lives? Are there possibly… other pets that could enter the picture?

Monday, September 30, 2024: Magic

Magic is an especially big part of Apollo’s life- whether he likes it or not, he’s surrounded by it. How does this affect his relationship with Klavier? Does Trucy rope them together to be her assistants at her performances? In another way, some people say that falling in love can be magical in its own right…

Tuesday, October 1, 2024: Music

On the other hand, music is a big part of Klavier’s life! How does his music career change after meeting Apollo? Does he release singles that serenade an undying love for a mysterious man with a notable forehead? Or does his music stay private, reserved for the ears of the one he loves?

Wednesday, October 2, 2024: Late nights

Klavier and Apollo can be major workaholics at times, staying up late to finish working on tough cases and going over notes before court the next morning. Do they ever spend these late nights together? Or instead of research sessions, are these late nights spent rather as lighthearted get-togethers where they can escape the pressure of finding the truth?

Thursday, October 3, 2024: Scars

Scars can be metaphorical as much as they can be physical. Are Klavier and Apollo’s scars physical? Are they found on arms or legs or chests? Or are they metaphors for the demons of the past, found only within the depths of their minds? How do they help each other heal?

Friday, October 4, 2024: Roleswap au

An oldie but a goodie, Klavier and Apollo have parallels in their stories and personalities, but also have staunch differences! How do things change when they swap roles with each other? Do they act the same as usual, or do they act different? How does this change their love?

Saturday, October 5, 2024: Poison

A weapon and a tool for the crafty and despicable, Klavier and Apollo know that poison is an all too common means of murder. How are Klavier and Apollo affected by poison? Could poison possibly represent anything for them? How does it relate to the ghosts of their pasts and the presence of their future?

Don’t forget to use the hashtag #KlapolloWeek2024 so your works can be archived! Make sure to familiarize yourself with our Archive Criteria and FAQ when participating. We’re excited to see what you all come up with for this year, and we’ll see you all soon!

[thebestofoneshots]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

♡ Indicates SMUT

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 | Dust in the Wind

49 | High Hopes

50 | Love the One You're With ♡

51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡

52 | Twentieth Century Fox

53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You

54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister

55 | Noone Together

56 | Who Wants To Live Forever

57 | Play the Game

58 | Staying Power

59 | Break on Through

60 | Stone in Love

61 | Mr. Blue Sky

62 |

63 |

64 |

65 |

66 |

67 |

68 |

69 |

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BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Everything I know about Flash and the FlashFam (& Flash enemies) comes from fandom and theflashmuseum on tiktok so fair warning on that lol

Sorry if Barry is out of character or things don't line up with canon. Canon is a stranger I think I passed in a crowded room once, I did not ask for its number lol

Anyway, time to touch a bit more on that whole Ancient of the Speedforce Elle thing yeah? Here be a sprinkle more of that and I promise there's more to come haha

Gonna start posting this on Ao3 soon, probably Monday or Tuesday, so heads up I may stop adding these parts here on tumblr once I do

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It lived beneath his skin.

For a long time Barry had never believed in magic. His world was grounded, scientific, made of predictable rules and laws. Tools that could be used to explain everything strange or supernatural away as just another odd twist of the massive universe they all belonged to.

It took perhaps a little longer than it should have to admit that magic was as real as thermodynamics and gravity and atoms. That the world was a great deal stranger than even science - for all its own wildness at times - could account for. There were things that went bump in the night. Hells below and heavens above and things that crawled and clawed their way out from the places in between.

It was almost a little embarrassing how long it had taken him to admit to such things, when considering his relationship with the Speedforce.

A force of the universe. Like gravity or time, pushing and pulling everything along. Something that could be explained with all the familiar scientific concepts that had buoyed him along in life for so long.

Except.

Except.

Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful but felt. Making his hair stand on end, his fingers tingle and numb. Sliding against his veins, bouncing between scar tissue and freckles. Pressing out from the confines of his sternum, rattling against his rib cage as it shifted and moved. Twining around each and every vertebrae. Coiling over and under itself within his skull, darting along the paths of his neurons and nerves. It hummed in every cell in his body. Darted and danced in the space between the atoms that made up his very existence.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

Lived.

Not existed. Not contained. Lived.

He couched it in terms of science, but science - despite his long time refusal to acknowledge it - wasn’t really able to explain the full scope of what he could feel. Not just the power of the Speedforce, but the…the identity of it. The living part that made it’s home in his body, existing in a way that was separate from him. Distant and indistinct most of the time, but…sentient.

He could feel it. Warm and excitable, delighting every time he tapped into it. Pushing him from behind urging him on and on, tugging him forward from ahead beckoning to go, faster, faster. Joyful in his victories, despairing in his loses.

It lived beneath his skin.

Until it didn’t.

He followed its joyful calls, pushed beyond what he should, what he knew was safe. Chasing that welcoming chant of faster, faster until he was there. In the Speedforce. More even, was the Speedforce.

He was everywhere. Beyond everywhere. In every possible everywhere it was possible to be. Every world, every universe, every multiverse.

To enter the Speedforce, to merge with it, was to become part of existence itself.

He couldn’t remember everything about it once he came back. He got flashes, sometimes, quick moments in dreams of places, of moments. What stuck with him most had been the feeling of it all. That had been the hardest part of returning. The sense of terrible loss, of having been surrounded by such a giddy, delighted, devoted love only to be pulled back from the heart of it. Returned to how he had been before, drifting at the edge of it all, it had been painful, agonizing even.

He…adapted, eventually. The sense of it all was still there, just distant. Something he’d come to feel he’d see again, someday.

It had been different, recently.

His powers were the same, he just as fast as ever, but…there was something…off. Changed. A sense that while his speed remained, the Speedforce had become, for lack of a better word, quiet. Distant.

He’d been having dreams, since it started. Not the quick glimpses of his time where he’d merged with the Speedforce. No, instead they were more nightmarish. Not nightmares exactly, though he felt like they should be with what they contained, but something else. Something that felt unnervingly real, left him confused and reeling when he woke with the certainty that when he opened his eyes he’d see the same as what his dreams held.

In the dream, he was in a room.

Cement and metal, hostile and brutalistic in design. He was bound in place, standing upright with feet and hands spread wide and locked in place within strange devices. Gleaming chrome and brilliant green, a painful thrum of energy surging through his body - not the Speedforce, something else, deeply unpleasant pulsing through every cell of his being and freezing him in place more firmly then the restraints did. Projectors hung from the ceiling, displaying images of landscapes, changing every ten second or so.

The sight of them made him nauseous, body shivering and spasming with the burning, agonizing need to go, but at the same time there was something distantly soothed by them too. Like a gnawing hunger abated with water and crumbs. The need for food not gone but the pangs diminished by the false feeling of being full.

In the dream he felt like he was dying.

In the dream he was afraid that maybe he couldn’t.

That he’d be trapped alive in that state forever, watching places he’d never see in person again as he was trapped in one place. His mind spiraling his Core splintering under the weight of it all, scared so scared. He wanted his brother, wanted to see the cement walls explode into dust and debris and see him there, ready to save the day like he had so many times before.

He just had to wait. His brother was looking for him, would have everyone in the Realms looking for him. He just had to hold on.

Barry didn’t have a brother. He only remembered when he woke, heart hammering in his chest fast even by his own standards, mouth tasting of bile and body aching with the need to go.

He hadn’t been sleeping much these days, even before the King of the Dead declared war.

It was having its effects, as sleep deprivation always did. His mind drifting, catching again and again on the dream, attention far away from the world around him. How many times had he been startled by someone calling his name, touching his arm? How many times had they given him a pinched, worried look that told him they’d been trying to reach him for longer than they should have before he noticed.

He was aware, distantly, of the glowering, stern faces around him. The flinty looks of his friends’ and partners’ eyes as they stared at the image of Waller’s scowling mug.

She’d declined an in-person meeting, hunkering down in some bunker somewhere trying to avoid the consequences of her latest atrocities. Or maybe just trying to avoid the very real possibility that one of the members of JL Dark might try to kill her for what she’s caused.

Or JL light, for that matter.

Bruce and Clark had their rules that they lived by, but Diana certainly wouldn’t hesitate to splatter Waller’s brains across the nearest available wall. In reviewing footage of one of the last battles - she’d been at the other one at the time, trying to contend with a ghost in the shape of an ethereal dragon - she’d recognized the spectral figures of Amazons long dead, fierce even in death as they fought with a warrior’s pride along side the rest of Phantom’s armies. They followed a figure that towered even above the Amazons, four arms and gleaming armor and a name that Barry associated with ruin and forgotten hope but who was so much more to Diana. Heroes long departed to the fields of Elysium, stepping out of their well earned rest to fight once more.

A few hadn’t survived the weapons the GIW shot them with. Barry didn’t know what that meant, for a ghost to die. If they simply returned to their afterlife or -

He tried not to think about the or.

They’d been going back and forth for awhile now. Voices faraway, muffled. The world felt as if it was underwater, blurred and cold. Clark had gotten to his feet at some point, Waller’s grip on a pen so tight on the screen he expected to see if burst at any moment. It was an important meeting, an important discussion. One he needed to be apart of, aware of, but it all escaped him. Sand held too tightly, slipping through his fingers. On the screen, Waller hit a button on the computer beside her and the image changed.

The world burned back to life in sharp relief.

The dream.

The room.

Cold cement. Projections of unreachable places on the walls. Chrome and green machinery in a configuration meant to contain.

It looked larger on the screen.

Maybe it was how small the figure held prisoner inside it was.

She was young. A child, no older than Superboy Jr. or Robin. She looked like Phantom - her father - but there were differences. Her hair was white, but it didn’t look like the spun starlight of her father’s. Instead it burned, the bright hot crackling of the plasma of a lighting bolt striking. Skin the blur of shapes caught just at the corner of the eye as you ran past, Eyes -

Looking at him.

The image had come up, a live feed - he knew it was live, knew he was looking at her where she was at that exact moment - and she’d been as he was every time he tried to sleep. Trembling and shuttering, eyes squinting against the pain, trying to stay open so as not to miss a single moment of the flat images imposed on blank cement walls. Desperate to fill the fathomless hunger burning deep down in the Core of her.

But then a shuttering breath and her eyes - the burning green of an afterimage - snapped up to the camera. Snapped up to look at him, recognition in her young face. And despite never having seen this girl before, he recognized her too.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

She lived beneath his skin.

He could feel her there. Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful, but felt.

Not as felt as she used to be.

The image snapped back to Waller’s face, smug and self-satisfied. Talking - lying - about the how the girl was there, what the GIW’s intentions for her were. Barry was on his feet, but so was everyone else. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, could only hear static, the rush of wind, the crack of the lightning bolt. A call for help.

It was then that the alarms began to blare. On the screen someone rushed in to whisper into Waller’s ear. Bruce was running out of the room towards the Zeta tubes and Barry was right there with him and there was so much chaos around them, men in white and Gothamites and Ghosts banding together to rain terror down upon them and something massive and horrible and living towering above it all and Barry let go of that last bits of logic and thought.

Instinct, older than he was. The echo of a voice that had called him for years now, carrying him along, biding him forward:

Run.

Someone might have shouted after him as he left Gotham behind. He didn’t know.

All he knew was the pounding of his feet upon the ground, the wind in his face, the Speedforce lashing and frantic and hopeful burning and sizzling beneath his skin. Calling him further and further away until he stood in a vast, empty field staring at a single, rusted shack near ready to collapse before him.

He wasn’t alone.

Wally. Bart. Max. More still. Not just his family and friends. Eobard. Hunter. Thaddeus. Everyone touched by the Speedforce.

They didn’t speak. Bodies humming and thrumming, crackling with energy and intent.

Minds as one, they focused on the shed, the hidden hatch inside, the base hidden deep below.

The Speedforce lived beneath their skin, and no one was going to steal it away from them.

[banj0possum]

"Whoever you met in your past world, just make sure that I always have a place in your heart, my rose."

so um, hiii!!! been reading your works for a long time and when you wrote alistair, i just had to do it.

this is just a self indulgent mess (oc is a tired, modern doctor that got transported to alistair's world and became his personal healer and something much more hehe)

anyways your writing and drawings are so so so so amazing!!! keep it up!!! 💖💖💖

WAIT WAIT GUYS WAIT!! OOP WAIT!!

YKW YKW

IM MAKING AN ENTIRE POST FOR YOU DAWG WAIT-

Yandere! Evil King x GN! Doctor! Reader

this is a little short im sorry-

👑 Alistair took you in as his one of his medics not long after your transportation into this strange fantasy world.

👑 He didn't expect much from you at first considering you wielded no magic of any sort, but you proved him wrong quick.

👑 He was amazed by your smarts and almost fearless nature when faced with difficult medical cases, of course to you it would just be another Monday afternoon at the hospital you used to work in

👑 Soon enough he would move you from being a medic for his army to his own personal medic.

👑 He'd buy you all sorts of medical books he thought you'd enjoy, not because he liked you, it was just to make sure you had adequate knowledge to attend to him if ever he is hurt yk.

👑 If you ever try to talk to him, he'd huff at your attempt, but he'd tolerate a conversation with you..wait where are you going he isn't done talking to you-

👑 Sometimes he'd just sit in your infirmary and watch you work. Just to make sure you're doing your job and not slacking off!..totally not just watching you lovingly or something that would be crazy!

👑 He'd pretend to hurt himself or be mildly sick in order to get your attention. Even a small scratch from a spar would bring him to your infirmary.

👑 Of course he's withstood much worse than a minor bruise or cut, but as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he'd do anything for your attention. Anything.

👑 A-and you know, he's gotta be at top shape all the time! In case he needs to go out into the battlefield once more. We can't have him held back by a cut right? Even the smallest wound can change the outcome of a battle!..

👑 He gets a little fuzzy feeling when you care for him. It makes him feel so vulnerable..safe..loved even.

👑 But don't be fooled! He's still the strong, cold, dominant king you know!..he just can't help melting every time you touch him to examine him or treat his wounds..

[littlejuicebox]

Swollen

Summary: This is another addition to my multi-part Dadstarion series. Tav is heavily pregnant and craving touch from Astarion. He's such a good husband, he happily obliges... but not without making it a bit of a game, of course.

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+, daddy kink, pregnancy is mentioned but I wouldn't call it a pregnancy kink... just an acknowledgement of the belly, Astarion has a foot fetish, light edging, light brat-taming, light spanking, Astarion being a tease what is new

Notes: HAPPY DADSTARION DAY! This started as a gift I was writing for @tragedybunny and took far too long for me to complete! Also, hello tumblr. My first posted piece in a while. I've finished moving and hope to get back into the swing of things here. Hope everyone has been well!

Word Count: 4K

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Her feet hurt, her back hurts, and she’s incredibly horny. 

The strange contrast isn’t lost upon Tav in the slightest, but the pregnancy hormones have her libido at an all time high. Seven months in with the twins, a stomach stretched almost to its limits, and yet she cannot get enough of her husband. She craves his touch, the feeling of his skin pressed against hers, the sensation of his cock splitting her open. She hears the whispers of encouragement and adoration that push her towards release in her dreams and longs for the moans of his own ecstasy as he follows her into oblivion. 

Tav is, more than ever, addicted to Astarion. Not that he seems to be complaining. 

But unfortunately for Tav, Astarion is still working in his office at this very moment. It’s midday; she has at least a few more hours until there is any opportunity to find her fix. 

After a quick shower and change into her robe, Tav convinces herself that she can be patient. Her feet are swollen, anyway, after her morning in the park with Gale — the three year old is taking a well-earned nap — so she will simply elevate them and wait for the inflammation to go down. After that, dinner preparations and putting their son to bed. And after that— finally— some well earned mommy and daddy time. 

Tav props her legs up on a pillow, closes her eyes for just a moment and… 

She is stirred awake by the feeling of strong hands gripping the soles of her feet. 

When her eyes flutter open, Astarion, appearing before her with the top buttons of his shirt undone, smiles and affectionately squeezes her feet once again. “Everything alright, little love?”

Tav hums a yes and then brushes a few strands of hair from her face as Astarion continues to massage her feet. She moves to prop herself up just slightly, aided by a few pillows behind her back. Her robe spills open, revealing swollen breasts to match her swollen stomach. Astarion blatantly admires the view, eyebrow arching with interest, as she gathers the fabric back together and tightens the belt with a sigh. 

“I must have fallen asleep for a moment,” she says, allowing her eyes to close again as she focuses on Astarion’s hands kneading the flesh of her sore soles. Gods, the magic of this man’s hands— and not a spell in sight. “Is Gale still napping?”

Astarion hums a yes in response. “We stopped early with the ledgers today — it’s Pascal’s wife’s birthday so I told him we would resume tomorrow. I was hoping to catch you two for lunch but by the looks of the kitchen you’d already eaten. So I made a quick bite for myself and then came looking for you.”

Tav groans, imagining the state of the kitchen, which she left in shambles. The maid won’t be back in until Monday morning. “I’ll clean the kitchen later, I just—“ 

“No need, love. I already tidied it. We can leave what remains for tomorrow,” Astarion cuts in before lifting her foot and placing an affectionate kiss on the outer edge. 

“For once in your life, just rest, woman. Would you like me to leave you so that you can go back to sleep?”

She shakes her head and then smiles softly. “No, I’d like for you to keep doing what you’re doing.”

Astarion chuckles, his eyes flickering across Tav’s face and then glimmering with mischief. He glances back down at her chest, now covered, and hums, his head tilting to the side. 

“Which part, darling?” He asks as he begins squeezing and massaging her calf with his long fingers. “This?” 

He continues kneading a few more times before he stops and moves to kiss Tav’s ankle. He lingers for a moment and then trails a few pecks along the side of her foot. She watches as his lips brush against her sole before he takes two toes into his mouth and sucks them lightly. He keeps his eyes trained on her face as his tongue swirls around the digits, causing her to squeal and squirm. Finally, he releases her toes with a sly smile. 

“Or that?”

“Both,” Tav responds, causing Astarion to rumble a chuckle in response. 

“You’re so needy, darling,” he teases, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips, the heat of his breath grazing against her toes. “But very well, if you insist. How could I say no to my very pregnant wife?”

His mouth his back around Tav’s foot in an instant, his tongue teasing against her toes. She gasps in response, her face flushing crimson at the… raw intensity with which he is worshiping her feet and the consistency of his gaze trained upon her face. The slickness growing between her thighs is, frankly, even more embarrassing. He’s done this before, every once and a while, but perhaps with not quite as much vigor. 

Astarion hums when he releases Tav’s toes for a second time, his lips pressing a trail of kisses against her calf as he quickly spreads her legs open. He’s soon on his stomach, his face just in front of her mound, robe expertly undone by one dexterous hand. 

He trails one hand up the inside of her thigh, his touch tingling along her flesh on his way to spread her folds and admire the wetness of her cunt. His mouth hovers not more than an inch away, lips curling up into a smug smile as he views the glistening arousal he’s coaxed from her. His breath brushes against her clit. So close, and yet so far. 

And entirely purposeful. 

Tav attempts to reach down between her own legs and touch herself, to relieve the nagging need at the apex of her trembling thighs. She groans in dismay and drops her hand, gripping the sheet when she realizes the swell of her abdomen is now too large for her to reach her own drenched folds. 

But gods, she needs relief. 

“Astarion,” she huffs, her voice tipping up into a whine as kisses are trailed along her thigh. “I know what you’re doing and I’m not in the mood for teasing.”

Astarion lifts his lips to chuckle in delight at her little predicament. His head tips up; she can barely see his eyes, shining with mischief, over the swell of her abdomen. 

“Darling, I usually have to physically restrain you so that you cannot touch yourself while I’m playing with your pretty cunt like this,” he purrs, a silver eyebrow cocked as his eyes lift and drag across her barely-clothed body. “This is a delightful development on my part.” 

“Astarion, I swear, if you don’t—“ Tav interrupts her threats with a strangled moan as two of his fingers easily slide into her walls. Her hips eagerly buck in response. 

“What you were saying, darling?” Astarion asks, cockily, as the flat of his palm presses against her clit. 

Tav is barely able to stifle the wanting cry that begs to escape her lips as she struggles to speak.

“What was that?” He teases again, as his fingers slip in and out of her entrance, the lewd sounds of her slickness filling the bedroom. He removes his fingers and trails them up to her clit, pressing down and rubbing forcefully, causing a shocked whine to shoot from Tav’s mouth. He chuckles. “I’m afraid I can’t understand you over all the moaning and whining, love. Did you want something else?”

“No,” Tav finally manages to gasp out through ragged breaths, her hips rolling against Astarion’s fingers as he slides them back inside. 

Astarion hums a contented sound from the back of his throat, entirely pleased with her response. “There’s my good girl. Now, how about you relax and let daddy do all the work, hm?” He asks, his eyes focused on Tav’s arousal dripping itself onto his fingers, beckoning his tongue to taste. 

Tav is left with no choice but to obey the command, and simply nods her head before tossing it backwards as she focuses on the pleasure building between her legs. She moans when Astarion’s lips lock against her flesh and cries out as his tongue slides along her clit. He smirks along her drenched cunt, his tongue lavishing the familiar trails of pleasure that he’s memorized after years of study. 

He takes his time, tracing around her overly sensitive nub in expert circles. He hooks his fingers to stroke along the sensitive spot that makes her toes tingle, grinning when he feels them, strewn over his shoulder and curled up in pleasure against his back. He flicks his tongue in the way he knows she prefers, listening to the muffled cries of pleasure that escape as she attempts to keep her voice down and avoid waking their toddler. He misses the way she used to scream for him. 

But she can still scream for him, can’t she? He’s certain he can make her cry out just the same. 

Astarion licks a final strip against Tav’s clit and then pulls back, his fingers still sunk deep within her, all the way to the third knuckle. He roams his eyes over his little love, up to the curve of her abdomen, stretched taut with the result of their coupling. His heart fills with pride as his free hand moves to rest atop her swollen stomach while his eyes wander and settle upon her face. Her mouth is agape, but there’s no sound coming out apart from a soft gasp or ragged breath every time he slides his fingers in and out of her eager entrance. 

Quite a shame, really. She makes the most beautiful noises when she doesn’t hold back. 

Tav’s eyes open, her face flushed and lids drooping with lust. She’s frustrated, he can tell, by the removal of his tongue. Her lips are dropping into a pout; her only response is a huffy whine. 

Astarion clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Now, now, patience, little love,” he chides, lightly, removing his fingers from the wetness of her folds and licking the slickness from them with a hum, all while ignoring the disappointed groan from Tav. “I’ll give you what you want… you just have to give me what I want first.”

Her eyebrow lifts. “And what is that, exactly?”

He grins playfully and presses himself up to standing. On the way to the door, he unbuttons and shrugs off his shirt. He quickly clicks the lock closed and spins around before lowering his trousers. 

Tav is watching him closely; he makes a show of sliding his bottoms down and freeing his cock. His length is twitching with anticipation, begging to plunge into her depths and spill its seed. And hells, she’s a tempting picture. Almost impossible to resist. The thought alone causes a drop of pre-fluid to bead at the head of his cock; he drops a hand to stroke his length. His mind fills with the urge to stuff Tav full and thrust into her until she is sweaty and dripping with his sticky spend. Until it is leaking from her hole and onto her thighs, spilling into the sheets beneath her. Until she smells only of sex and him. 

But he can wait a while longer, if only to make her just as desperate as he feels. If only to pull those pretty little pleas from her mouth. 

“For a start, use those beautiful hands of yours to cast a silence spell for me, won’t you, my love?”

Tav flushes but obliges, her fingers waving to cast a spell she’s performed hundreds of times before, though perhaps not recently, and certainly not in this context. A shroud of silence surrounds the room, insulating them from anything outside the four walls around them. Astarion smirks as he stalks toward the bed, the corners of his lips pulling up in a vulpine smile, eyes dark with lust but glinting with rougery. Quite like the vampire that used to slip into Tav’s bedroll at night. 

He has Tav right where he wants her, and he knows it. He’s no longer a vampire, of course, but perhaps the animalistic, predatory side of him never truly left. He’d always been one to toy with his food, back then in camp, hadn’t he? 

“Now then, darling,” Astarion purrs as he slides back onto the bed and assumes the position he’d been in moments before, his face nestled between her legs. He smiles smug, fingers spreading her folds, wetness seeping from her entrance. “How about we see if I can still make you scream?”

“You are an arrogant bastard, Astarion An–” Tav huffs, a sharp gasp interrupting her chastisement as Astarion’s tongue presses against her clit. Astarion chuckles in response, the sound causing vibrations to pulse against her sex and she gasps again, her hand instinctively coming to cover her mouth. 

Astarion growls in disapproval, extending his own hand out to yank hers from her face, fingers threading through hers to keep them there. She will scream for him; he will continue his efforts until she does. He presses more insistently into that bundle of nerves, swelling now, the result of his ability to play her body perfectly. Tav bucks and a fresh bit of slickness covers his chin. He dips his head lower, tongue sliding against her slit and down further to lap at the oasis between her legs. 

She always tastes divine. 

His lids flutter closed as he inhales the heady aroma of her arousal and tastes the musky sweetness of her sex. His cock throbs at the familiar combination. He laps eagerly and then returns his attention to her clit, using his free hand to plunge two fingers into her entrance and curl, landing on the spot that makes her cry for him. Tav bucks in response, her hips lifting up and against his face, silently pleading for more.

Silently.

Oh. She’s remaining quiet on purpose, isn’t she?

That won’t do. 

Astarion lifts up and away from Tav, his eyebrow arching in somewhat of a challenge. He unconciously licks at the slickness on his lips as he huffs, “Must you insist on being a brat?”

Tav’s eyebrow lifts in return, her gaze steady as she stares back at him, straining to keep her chest from heaving. “What? You thought this would be easy? That I would be easy? Not the first time you’ve miscalculated, my love.” 

“Really,” Astarion says as his eyes narrow, the hand that had been threaded through Tav’s fingers pulling away. He grips into the plushness of her ass, holding her firmly in place. “Don’t pretend I didn’t have you screaming for me in the Elfsong with nothing more than my tongue, Tav.”

“It’s been so long since then, I can hardly remember— ah—!” 

Astarion laves her clit with renewed vigor, his fingers pumping in and out of her entrance in rapid time. His hand grips into Tav’s flesh, holding her against him and minimizing the movement of her hips. His tongue swirls around and around in steady circles, fingers curled to press back against the spot that makes her gasp with every thrust. He can sense she is holding back, in the trembling of her thighs and the movements of her hands, firmly fisted into the bed sheets. He can also tell she’s not far from reaching her peak.

But far enough. 

He can keep her on the edge, like he used to quite frequently, when the taste of her blood was made better by the taste of her wanton anticipation. Back when he would latch onto her neck and suckle more for comfort than sustenance, keeping himself on the edge just as much as he’d kept her there. 

More, perhaps, in truth. 

Astarion rolls his hips at the thought, stiff cock dragging along silken sheets, and lets out a moan of his own. No longer thirsting for blood, but the memory of the intense, desperate thirst and the feeling of utter satiation still causes his desire to flare. 

Nothing and no one has ever or will ever satisfy him as much as Tav. That much is certain. 

Astarion almost gives in and lets Tav come. Almost gives in to the desire to taste her ecstasy in the only way he can, nowadays. Almost. But just before her thighs are about to clamp around his head, he remembers the game at hand. His pride wins out. He slows his fingers and reduces the pressure from his tongue, grinning when he hears Tav whine. 

“You absolute bastard!” Tav hisses, fist pounding into the mattress. 

He chuckles, fingers lazily dragging in and out of Tav’s entrance as he lifts his head up to once again peer over the swell of her abdomen. His eyes lock onto her exposed chest, tits swollen and stretched, skin glistening with sweat. He licks his lips; he can taste nothing but her. He trails his gaze upward, to the sharp, narrowed eyes glaring down at him and smirks as he slowly lifts himself onto his knees. 

“Is that really any way to speak to the father of your children, my love?”

“Is this really any way to treat the mother of your children, darling?”

Astarion pouts, a fake jut of his lower lip before his expression pulls up into a smile, just a bit arrogant, but mostly sweet. “You know what I want, darling. Stop being stubborn. Just give it to me, and I will give you what you want, hm?” 

“You’re going to have to try harder, then, Astarion,” Tav responds, her eyebrow arching again. She lifts her chin in another bit of a challenge. “Or perhaps you just aren’t as skilled as you once were, hm?”

Astarion’s eyes flash something fierce. “Now, now, darling. I know you don’t mean that. Take it back.”

“Make me,” she replies, the challenge a clear invitation as her face flushes in anticipation, eyes shimmering with desire. 

Oh, so that is how it’s going to be, then. 

He’d been much gentler with Tav, in her first pregnancy, far too unsure about the safety of such activities. But this time around, and after much assurance from both Tav and Shadowheart, Astarion has grown quite used to being a bit more… typical in his activities with his wife. He’s rolling her onto her stomach in an instant, pillows dragged lower to cradle her abdomen, fingers digging into her thighs. 

“Is this what you want, darling? For me to take you from behind and make you scream for me?” he growls, skin flushing hot as he tempts himself with the same words he’s using on Tav. His engorged cock is begging for attention. 

But not yet. 

Not until she gives him what he wants. 

Let it be soon.

“Yes,” Tav responds, voice raspy, no longer able to keep still as her desire takes over. She presses herself back against Astarion, the length of his cock sliding temptingly along her folds. 

“Beg, then,” Astarion demands, one hand trailing up her thigh to sit on the curve of her ass. He lifts his hand and smacks down, reveling in the sound of Tav’s delighted keen. But after that, further fucking silence. Tav continues to roll back against him, trying to tempt him into giving her what she wants. 

Naughty thing. 

He smacks the side of her ass again, harder this time, ripping a startled moan from her throat. His cock begins to leak pre-fluid at the sound of her voice mixed with the rocking of her hips. He’s becoming quite desperate, himself, his ears turning hot, cock throbbing, heart thudding in anticipation. 

Perhaps a bit more enticement, then. 

He presses the tip of his cock forward, almost losing control and thrusting to the hilt when he feels the warm suction of her walls. Tav whines when he pulls away and then holds steady, just pressing the tip of himself into her with barely-there thrusts. He purrs, “Won’t you beg for me, darling? Three little words, that’s all it takes.”

A moment of silence. He trails his fingers across her flesh, over the curve of her ass, up the side of her spine, igniting goosebumps in his wake. He rolls his hips languidly, his cock just filling the very entrance of her hole with each pass. 

And then finally. 

Finally. 

“Please fuck me.”

The plea comes out muffled, Tav’s face pressed into the sheets beneath them. Astarion’s cock jumps. He uses the last of his willpower to pull his tip from Tav and slide instead along her slick folds, coating himself in her arousal. He’s won. And yet, he cannot resist the urge to tease her just a bit further. 

“Mm… what was that, dear? I can’t quite hear you past the pillow.”

Tav lifts and turns her head, her eyes wide and desperate. Face flushed red, sweat glistening down her cheeks. She murmurs her second plea, almost a whine, nearly breathless, “Please fuck me… daddy.”

His cock aches. 

Oh, she knows exactly what she is doing. Little devil. 

Without another word Astarion slams himself into her entrance, immediately taking her to the hilt. Tav’s head rears back as she moans, loudly, at the sensation of being filled. Astarion’s length throbs and threatens to spill on impact. He watches Tav, her eyes still turned toward him as she begins to press back into him again. 

“So very eager, aren’t you, love?” he asks, as his hips begin to roll in time with her movements. Before long, he is picking up the pace and she is following. Her walls clench around him in a steady rhythm. His arm wraps around her waist — not a particularly easy feat nowadays — fingers searching for her clit. He finds the nub and begins working it insistently; Tav emits high keens as he rubs his fingers into her clit. “Do you want to come, darling?”

Tav whines when Astarion thrusts into her quite sharply, hips canting at a near-supernatural pace. The plushness of her ass bounces with each thrust, cushioning the impact of his harsh movements. “Yes!”

“Then won’t you come for me?” Astarion coaxes in a coo, groaning as he feels Tav clench and pulse around him, signaling her imminent release. He adjusts his hips just slightly, aiming for the spot inside her walls that makes her come undone, and knowing he’s found it when she lets out a sound that is something of a whining scream. He grins. “There we go… let me hear you, my sweet.”

Another roll of his hips and Tav is gone, her head tossing back as she braces herself on all fours, no longer able to match Astarion’s movements. Her cunt wraps around him eagerly, pulsing against the engorged length of his cock. She reaches a near-whistling shriek midway through her orgasm and the sound quickly causes Astarion’s resolve to shatter. He utters some sort of incoherent praise as his cock swells and then twitches while he loses himself inside her greedy walls. 

He needed this. She needed this. It had been far too long. 

The two are bound together, each riding the aftershocks of release. Both heaving with exertion and coated in a thin layer of sweat. Finally, Astarion runs a hand up to Tav’s waist, settling gently. “Everything alright, my love?”

Tav nods her response and then groans, chuckling softly. “I think… I think I’m going to need help rolling back over, Astarion.” 

Astarion laughs as he removes himself from Tav, arms moving to support her as she rolls onto her back with a labored huff. She ends the Silence spell with a lazy wave of her hand and yawns. Her eyes flutter closed as a hand trails down to her abdomen and rests upon her bump.

“I’ll need you to start making use of that spell more often, darling,” Astarion murmurs as he presses a kiss into her forehead with a smile. His poor little love is already drifting back into the nap he’d pulled her from. 

“Mmm…” she agrees, already half asleep, her other hand instinctively searching for his. He laces their fingers together as he lays down beside her, pulling the covers over them both, intent on joining her for a nap. Best to get their rest while they both can. 

In a few more weeks, sleep will be nothing but a memory. 

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Eight-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theós fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviours, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Angst, Kissing, Sadism, Grinding.

***FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Monday dawned, heralding the return to the comforting rhythm of routine. It was the day that marked the return to navigating through a series of classes, where the majority of students seemed disinterested--their attention merely a sliver of the fervor you felt for the subject matter being presented.

Strangely, Monday held a special place in your heart, a day you embraced with boundless enthusiasm. As the sun stretched its golden fingers through your window, you sprang out of bed, brimming with a vitality that could rival the sunrise. Every cell in your body hummed with energy, enough to fuel you through the day and perhaps even run a marathon around the school grounds before your legs begged for respite.

However, on this seemingly mundane Monday, time seemed to drag its feet, the minutes stretching into endless hours as you maneuvered through class after class. Familiar faces that once held no significance now sent a shiver down your spine, tightening your stomach into knots so constricting they threatened to suffocate you whole.

Normally, classes with Mattheo, Tom, Enzo, and the rest of the Slytherin boys were unremarkable--a monotonous routine where you blended into the background. However, after the tumultuous events that unfolded in the Slytherin common room that past Friday night, it felt like every single pair of eyes in the room bore into your skin with an unsettling intensity, leaving you acutely aware of the weight of their scrutinizing glances.

The memories of that evening hung in the air like a lingering mist, casting a somber aura over your every interaction. Each sidelong glance felt like an interrogation, and hushed conversations reverberated with the unspoken questions that hung between you and your peers. Their collective scrutiny bore down on you, and as the day wore on, you found yourself yearning for the respite that the night would bring, where you hoped to escape the watchful eyes and find solace in the darkness.

With the finesse of a skilled acrobat, you expertly maneuvered through the day's treacherous waters, keeping your head low and your presence inconspicuous. The weight of wary eyes and whispered rumors hung in the air, yet you managed to evade their grasp, emerging unscathed by nightfall.

As darkness cloaked the castle, you found sanctuary in the Astronomy Tower, something you done quite often. There, beneath the celestial tapestry of the stars, you immersed yourself in your weekly research, finding solace in the quiet solitude of the night. The distant hoot of an owl and the gentle rustle of leaves provided a soothing backdrop as you delved into the captivating realms of celestial phenomena.

With parchment and quill in hand, you meticulously documented the positions of stars, planets, and constellations, observing their intricate dance across the night sky.

Your research focused on celestial events, planetary alignments, and their potential impact on magical energies. Guided by the wisdom of ancient texts and your insatiable curiosity, you sought to unravel the cosmic mysteries that intertwined with the magical fabric of the wizarding world. Each Monday night since the start of the fourth year, you climbed the tower's spiraling steps in order to gather documentation and compare with the previous week.

Lost in the ethereal dance of the stars, your quill moved across the parchment as if guided by some unseen force. Each stroke of your pen felt like an incantation, weaving together the threads of magic and the celestial realm.

Suddenly, the soft echo of footsteps on the stone floor snapped you back to reality. Your head whipped around, eyes wide and heart pounding, only to find Mattheo Riddle sauntering over without a sheer care in the world. His cheeky grin mirrored the mischief that danced in his eyes as he slumped down on the ground in front of you, his back resting against the cold railing.

For a moment, the enchanting allure of the stars faded, replaced by the enigmatic presence of the boy who always seemed to tread the line between trouble and fascination. His eyes glittered with amusement, and you could sense there was more to his presence than mere curiosity.

The stars held their secrets close, but Mattheo Riddle was an enigma you were yet to decipher.

"Stargazing, Raven?" he asked, his voice a smooth melody in the quiet night. "Or might you be decoding the secrets of the universe?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" you retorted, your heart still pounding in your chest, nerves still recovering from the fright he had given you. "You scared the bloody life out of me."

The moonlight cast eerie shadows across his features as he nonchalantly pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the metallic glint catching the dim light. He skillfully extracted one, placing it between his lips, the end glowing briefly as he lit it with the flicker of his lighter, the scent of smoke wafting through the air. Amused indifference danced in his eyes as he exhaled a plume of smoke into the night, his gaze meeting yours with a teasing glimmer.

"What's the matter? Thought I was Berkshire?" he teased, his voice a low murmur, the cigarette smoldering between his fingers. "I came up because I knew you'd be up here...you're quite the creature of habit, even after all these years."

The tension between you hung in the air, thick and palpable, the silence broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and the soft crackle of the burning cigarette.

"You knew I'd be up here?" you huffed, irritation lacing your words, the annoyance palpable in the air. His Berkshire comment had struck a nerve, and you felt the sting of it. "What, are you stalking me now?"

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, smoke curling around his lips like a ghostly veil.

"Hardly stalking, princess," he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. "This used to be my smoking spot. Had to find a new one ever since your prissy little ass decided to take up stargazing as a bloody extracurricular."

His voice slithered with a playful venom, a tantalizing blend of sarcasm and arrogance that only Mattheo Riddle could master. Each word was like a silk thread, wrapping around your senses, leaving your skin prickling with irritation and your pulse quickening with an unsettling desperation. The emotional whirlwind he stirred within you was as intoxicating as it was maddening--a dizzying concoction of annoyance and desire, a sick dance that left you both infuriated and oddly enticed, your heart pounding in your chest like a caged animal desperate for release.

Your eyes narrowed, a flicker of realization washing over you as you caught on to his unspoken admission, your lips curling into a devilish, twisted smirk as you tilted your head in challenge.

"Oh no...how utterly tragic, Riddle," your words dripped with sarcasm, each syllable carefully enunciated, as you arched an eyebrow in mock surprise. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience I've caused you--please, tell me, should I get on my fucking knees for you now, or later?"

A wicked smirk curved Mattheo's lips as he took a leisurely drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the darkness. His posture oozed unfazed arrogance, his sharp features highlighted by the soft glow, casting a sinister shadow across his face.

"Now...later...doesn't matter to me, Raven," he purred, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You'll end up on them for me eventually."

"Just charming, you are," you retorted, rolling your eyes to hide the flicker of arousal that his words ignited. "Look, I appreciate the company...but if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my 'prissy' little activity in peace."

You chewed your cheek, your tone laced with sarcasm as you turned your attention back to your celestial research, not bothering to look up at him as you tossed him another jab, seemingly unable to control yourself.

"And no, I wasn't worried you'd be Berkshire," you muttered, focused on your parchment. "I was worried you'd be your brother, you know, the prefect...getting caught by him is the last thing I need right now."

Mattheo's eyes narrowed, a glint of annoyance flashing in his gaze like a stormy sky. "Sorry to disappoint," he retorted, his voice low and laced with irritation. "Bet you'd love a punishment from him, huh? He'd make you face the wall, maybe even bend you over and have you lift up your skirt...the sixth years certainly seem to fucking love it."

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his words sinking in as you peeled your eyes away from your work. You met his gaze, desperately assessing him for any sign of bluffing, but not finding even a shred. His words hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that he might be telling the truth. A scoff escaped your lips, a mix of disbelief and nervous tension.

"Don't believe me? Maybe try crawling out from under your little rock for once and listen to the talk." He took another drag of his cigarette, his lips curling into a half-smirk. "Consider me your guardian angel tonight, saving you from that terrible fate."

"Guardian angel?" you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you tried to brush off the uneasy feeling settling in your gut. "So that's why you're here...you're worried Tom is going to find me and touch me without your fucking permission, aren't you?"

Your words carried a biting edge, challenging him to reveal his true intentions. His half-smirk deepened, the corners of his lips tugging upward in a way that made your skin crawl. Mattheo's gaze bored into yours, his eyes flickering with a mix of amusement and something darker, something possessive that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I prefer to be the one that decides who gets to play with my toys," he said, his voice low and laden with a subtle threat. "And as it turns out, I don't like sharing what belongs to me, Raven."

The way he said your nickname sent a shiver down your spine, his voice wrapping around you like a dangerous promise. A predatory edge underscored his words, a warning wrapped in seduction, making you acutely aware of the dangerous game you were playing with the messy, brown haired boy in front of you.

And in the aftermath of his words, something inside you snapped, tired of his games, a fierce energy propelled you forward. With swift purpose, you cast your parchment and quill aside, shifting across the unforgiving stone floor, each movement deliberate, until you found yourself nestled in the space between his legs, the cold stone biting through your robes. Your eyes bored into his, your gaze intense and unyielding, as if you could find the answers to all of your questions painted on his skin.

"You're going to give me grey hair, do you fucking know that, Mattheo?" you whispered, your voice laced with frustration as you locked eyes with him, searching for any semblance of truth in his gaze. "When are we going to talk about what you said in the library? When you-"

"What's there to talk about, Raven?" He cut you off, leaning his head back against the railing, his expression nonchalant as he brought his half-lit cigarette up to his lips, taking a slow draw while his eyes remained fixed on yours. "I already told you, I was drunk."

Your stomach plummeted like a stone, a sickening mix of disappointment and hurt gnawing at your insides. Despite your efforts to conceal it, to suppress it so deep that it diminished into absolutely nothing, the sinking feeling was undeniable, overshadowing any semblance of composure you tried to maintain. Each shallow breath you took seemed to echo the hollow ache within you, amplifying the aggravating vulnerability you felt.

"So when you said I'm not just your toy, you didn't mean it..." your voice wavered into a barely audible whisper, trailing off into the unspoken ache. "When you said I'm the one girl you can't get enough of...you didn't-"

"Perhaps I meant one of those things," he said, his voice carrying the weight of the world. "I'll leave which one up to your interpretation, Raven...you're a bright girl, yeah?"

The dim light from the tower's single lantern cast uneven shadows on his face, highlighting the contours of his features. His eyes, usually a bottomless abyss, now held a glimmer of something you couldn't quite decipher. Mattheo's gaze flickered, darting from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes, brows pinched in focus. His lips, once so teasing, tightened into a thin line, and the playfulness that usually danced in his eyes was replaced with a shadowed intensity.

His hand found your arm, the touch feather-light, yet still somehow managed to send shivers down your spine, as if the grip had the power to unravel every thought you harbored. You felt the weight of his fingers, warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool stone beneath you, and you exhaled; a long, trembling breath.

"Why do you have to do that?" You couldn't contain the frustration in your voice, the pent-up emotions breaking free. "Why do you always deflect everything? It's impossible to-"

Your words were cut off abruptly as his touch tightened ever so slightly, his grip firm yet still strangely gentle. His eyes drilled into yours, now, as if daring you to continue--the silence between you speaking louder than any words could, the unspoken tension lingering in the air like a storm on the horizon.

"Raven," he said, his voice low and measured. "You said you didn't want to make things complicated-"

"Too late for that, Riddle..." you cut him off, now. Your voice was edged with frustration, your emotions swirling like a storm inside you. "You already blew that door wide open when you started getting possessive and then said we should just forget about everything-"

His grip tightened further, tugging you closer, the tension between you palpable. "Yeah, and how long did that last?"

"Are you blaming me for that, Mattheo?" you said, your voice a mere whisper, your gaze flickering to his lips, almost involuntarily.

"I'd never blame you for any of this, Raven." He retorted, voice tight and controlled. "But you didn't stop me...you didn't push me away..."

Your lungs stalled in the wake of his words, your chest constricting, every syllable bouncing around in your head like a basketball. His words rattled your brain, a heavy truth you couldn't deny. The weight of your own desires and the reckless dance you both had engaged in settled upon your shoulders.

"You called yourself a monster..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if you were afraid of setting him off with too loud of a pitch. "You said you'd never deserve-"

"I am a monster, Raven," he spat, his throat working as he swallowed. "I have blood on my hands in ways you could never imagine…and that doesn't even do it justice…it’s on more than my hands…it's not as though it stops there, at my wrist like a fucking glove..."

His words hung in the air, laden with a haunting ache that resonated in the nighttime silence. A defeated exhale escaped your lips as you shifted against the cold stone, feeling Mattheo's hand slip around your back and pull you into the warmth of his chest. Your head nuzzled involuntarily into the hollow of his neck, seeking solace from the frigid night, every inch of your body tingling against his. You didn't understand what this was between you two, what the fuck you were even doing, but the biting cold seemed to fade away in the embrace of his body, offering a fleeting sense of comfort in the midst of uncertainty.

As the silence settled around you both, broken only by the steady drumming of his heart, you couldn't escape the profound curiosity that gripped your thoughts--you wondered what he'd gone through, what he'd done, or perhaps even what he'd seen--but even more than that, you couldn't help but to wonder--was it better to out-monster the monster, or allow yourself to be quietly devoured?

"What's your story, Mattheo?" you asked, your voice tinged with a bitterness you hadn't meant to unleash, shattering the silence between you. "What the hell made you such a complicated asshole?"

"What's yours, Raven?" His body tensed at your words, his Adam's apple bobbing against your head as he swallowed, a subtle tremor betraying the calm facade."Actually, don't even tell me...I'm pretty certain I've already got it."

"Is that so?" You cocked an eyebrow. "Let's hear it then."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You're the girl who craves chaos but hides it beneath a veneer of perfection."

His words almost immediately made you tense, and yet, you knew he wasn't finished.

"Silver spoon-fed, parents too busy climbing social ladders to notice their own daughter drowning in their expectations...private schools, debutante balls, a picture-perfect life that's paralyzing you. You're the good girl, always following the rules, always striving for the unattainable...classic overachiever clawing for perfection just to win daddy's fucking approval," he pressed his mouth to your temple, dropping his voice into a low, growling whisper. "Tell me, how does it feel to wear that suffocating mask every day?"

"Fuck you," your gaze hardened, the words slicing past your teeth like a razor, pulling yourself off his chest as you shifted to face him. You couldn't believe how scarily fucking accurate he was, but you refused to give him the satisfaction."If I didn't know any better, I'd think there was jealousy in your tone, Riddle."

"You can't deny it because you know I'm right," he shrugged, voice as cool as ice. "I see the look in your eyes...eyes don't lie, Raven."

"You think you have me all figured out, yeah?" You huffed, irritation flooding through you now, searing your skin. "Well you're not the only one...I fucking see you, Mattheo Riddle...the black sheep of a prestigious family...daddy's little disappointment, constantly overshadowed by your genius brother...a rebel without a cause, desperately seeking validation in all of the wrong places. The reckless bad boy facade is merely a shield to hide the cracks in your own pitiful self-worth."

You couldn't even believe the words leaving your own mouth, but if they affected Mattheo in any way, his expressions would never show it. You let your words linger for a moment before you countered his earlier question with one of your own.

"Don’t you ever get tired of pretending, Mattheo?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed Mattheo's eyes, swiftly overshadowed by a simmering anger. His lips tightened into a thin line, the muscles in his jaw clenching visibly. The silence that followed your question was thick with tension, pregnant with the weight of unspoken emotions. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to draw out a composed response, his voice laced with a bitter edge.

"Tired?" He spat. "I don't have the luxury of exhaustion, Raven."

"Grow up, Mattheo..." you physically had to refrain from rolling your eyes. "It's about fucking time you got over yourself, don't you think?"

"I'd be careful with your next words, princess..." he spat, his tone sharp as a dagger. "You don't know anything about me…it's bold of you to think you can make assumptions like that."

"You fucking started it," your voice was low and laced with intensity, leaning in closer until your breath mingled with his. "You don't know half of the woman you stare in the face."

Mattheo paused, his eyes, deep pools of intensity, bore into yours, drawing you in with their magnetic pull. Every glance exchanged with him was like plunging into the depths of a storm, your heart racing with the force of the emotions he stirred within you. The pause stretched, the silence thick with unspoken desires and unquenchable passion as you held his gaze, feeling the unrelenting pull that seemed to tether your souls together.

"You know what I think, Raven?" The tone of his voice switched to a seductive purr, his calloused palm finding your thigh, slithering higher. "I think we're more alike than you'd care to admit."

Each word dripped with a venomous mix of arrogance and seduction, carrying the weight of the truth you both refused to acknowledge--the touch of his hand on your thigh rid any desire you had to speak, seemingly possessed and silenced simultaneously, clinging to his voice.

"I think we're two sides of the same coin, struggling to find our place in a world that demands we choose a path..." Mattheo continued, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "We both wear masks, Raven. Yours might be polished and refined, but it's still a mask. Underneath, we're both drowning in expectations, haunted by our own ghosts."

His fingers traced circles on your thigh, a touch that sent electric jolts through your skin. "We're both searching for something, aren't we?" he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Maybe that's the point of all of this...after all, it is equally as fucking inhumane to be totally good, as it is to be totally bad, don't you think?"

A charged silence enveloped both of you as Mattheo pulled you closer, his fingers trailing a fiery path along your skin. His lips hovered inches away from yours, teasing but never quite fulfilling the promise of a kiss.

"Maybe...we make each other feel alive...does it matter if it hurts?" His thumb brushed gently over your bottom lip, a touch as soft as a feather but laden with an undeniable intensity. "It’s a risk…for both of us…but I tried to fight it and didn't even last a fucking day...it's wrong, Raven, it's so fucking wrong...but I just can't stay away from you..."

In the wake of his touch, his words, his fucking voice--you found yourself utterly breathless, frozen in a moment where time seemed to stand still. In the silence that followed, his eyes bored into yours like twin obsidian orbs reflecting a stormy sky, and you were rendered powerless, your every sense overwhelmed by the intoxication he effortlessly wielded.

His presence was a potent elixir that seeped into your veins, setting your blood on fire and entangling your soul in a web of desire. You were caught in a whirlwind, a chaotic dance between anger and need, a tempestuous passion that only he could incite. Every fiber of your being rebelled against the pull he had on you, yet you found yourself irresistibly drawn to the very source of your turmoil.

He was a living contradiction, an enigma wrapped in layers of darkness and charm. His presence was suffocating and intoxicating, a potent mix that left you both exhilarated and vulnerable. In that moment, you realized he was more than just a person; he was a force of nature, a hurricane you couldn't escape, even if you wanted to.

As the truth hung heavy in the air, you admitted it to yourself--despite the chaos he brought into your life, despite the risks and the dangers, you fucking craved him. A dark villain you found yourself strangely drawn to, unable to outrun the allure of his darkness. His touch, his words, his very essence--they made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before, in the most chaotic and exhilarating way, and in the midst of this internal battle, you acknowledged the undeniable reality--you wanted him, fiercely and recklessly, consequences be damned.

You inhaled a shallow breath, drawing in his exhales like a forbidden addiction. "You're going to be the fucking ruin of me, aren't you, Mattheo?"

"Yes." Mattheo huffed, his breath mingling with yours as he grazed your lips once more. "Does that scare you, princess?"

"Yes," you admitted, your hands instinctively slithering around his neck, words leaving your lips without thought. "Everything about you scares me."

Your confession hung heavy in the air, your fingers instinctively curling around the fabric of his jacket. His response was a low, rumbling purr that sent shivers down your spine, the intensity of his gaze burning into your soul.

"I can't believe you just said that, Raven..." he husked, his grip on your waist tightening possessively. His lips brushed against your jawline, sending electric currents through your skin.  "You don't even know how fucking hard that just made me."

Your eyelids fluttered, heat pooling between your thighs, as his touch ignited a wildfire within you.

"You're fucking insane..." you breathed, your fingers digging into his jacket, desperately trying to ground yourself in the midst of the overwhelming desire he stirred. "I don't know how you do this to me..."

"It's useless to fight it, princess," he purred, his teeth grazing your pulse, each touch seemingly branding you as his. "I've already made you mine."

"Your toy," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "You've made me your toy."

"Yes, my toy." He growled, his grip intensifying. “Mine...all fucking mine..."

Under the moonlit sky, the Astronomy tower stood silent, the night air thick with a dark lust. His teeth sank into the sensitive skin of your neck, the cool breeze caressing your heated skin, intensifying the pleasure-pain sensation coursing through your veins. Your head fell to the side instinctively, the distant twinkle of stars above bearing witness to the passion igniting between you. Your body trembled under his touch, the night itself seeming to shiver in response to the escalating desire enveloping you both.

With a sudden intensity, he cupped your face in his hands, his touch both possessive and oddly gentle. His dark eyes bore into your soul, their intensity searing into your skin.

"Are you sure you're good with that, Raven?" he demanded, his voice low and raw. "You're good with being my little toy? You're good with continuing this with no strings attached?"

"Yes," you murmured.

"Say it." He said, vibrations of his chest rumbling through you. "Say you're good with it."

"I'm good with it," you said. "I'm good with being your little toy, I'm good with no strings, no bullshit-"

Cutting you off, his mouth crashed onto yours, a hungry, fervent kiss that seemed to convey years of pent-up desire--it was as if he had waited his whole life to kiss you, his lips molding perfectly against yours, igniting a fiery passion that consumed the both of you with ease. His lips moved with a purpose, a desperate need that mirrored your own--the air crackled with anticipation, your heart pounding in your chest as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull of his lips, the heat of his body pressed against yours.

You were lost in him, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating blend of pleasure and need. The world ceased to exist, and there was nothing but the electrifying connection between your lips, binding you to him in a way that felt inevitable, unstoppable, and undeniably right. His kiss was a storm, wild and unrelenting, consuming you entirely, moving with a fierce hunger, his tongue seeking entrance, and you welcomed him eagerly, your mouths dancing in a heated tangle of desire.

As he deepened the kiss, the intensity grew, an inferno raging between you. Every touch, every taste, every second seemed to set your skin ablaze, leaving you breathless and aching for more. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, as if trying to merge your souls through this kiss--the two of you shifting positions until you were straddling his lap, the feeling of his erection pressing against your centre pulling a guttural groan from your throat; his fingers digging into your skin in response.

With a gasp, he broke the kiss, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses down your neck, igniting a fire wherever they touched. Your head fell back in response, exposing the vulnerable curve of your throat to him. His hot breath fanned over your skin, sending shivers down your spine, as he pressed soft yet possessive kisses along the column of your throat. His lips moved with purpose, exploring every inch of your neck as if it held the secrets to the universe, his tongue flicking out occasionally, teasing, before his teeth grazed your skin, a promise of both pleasure and pain. Each touch sent shockwaves through your body, amplifying the intensity of your connection, as you clung to him, lost in the whirlwind of desire and need.

"I want to make you cum again..." he murmured against your skin, his hands gripping your hips and pressing you down against his crotch. "I want to make cum over and over, fuck..."

"Matty..." you moaned, his teeth grazing your pulse, your hips rolling against his lap involuntarily, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his hands moved to your ass; squeezing with malicious intent. "Shit...we can't...not here..."

"I know." He groaned, his hot exhale showering your skin. "Wednesday."

"Yes..." you breathed. "Wednesday."

—————

Here’s chapter nine->

[cinnnamongrl]

pretty when you’re high- ellie williams

pairing: dealer!ellie x fem!reader

summary: you and ellie are best friends despite your differences. ellie gets you high for the first time and the lines of your friendship become blurred

warnings: [18+] mdni, language, use of marijuana, kissing, light smut, some nudity, nipple play, top!ellie, bottom!reader, mutual pining

authors notes: this is possibly part 1 of 2. lmk if anyone would want that? pls send any feedback u may have, would really appreciate it. <3 update: part 2 can be found here

ellie williams was your best friend. you two were as close as friends could be. and despite what people around college thought, you didn’t find anything strange about the fact that the college’s best dealer was best friends with a shy innocent grade A student like you. but it was obvious to everyone that you two, despite being complete opposites, were inseparable.

what you hoped wasn’t obvious to everyone, was the massive crush you were harbouring on your best friend. you couldn’t help it; you thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. the way she laughs, her smile, her voice, the way her hands look as she rolls a joint. sometimes you’d just stare at her while she was doing sometime mundane like talking to someone at a party. you’d watch the way her mouth would move as she talks, how her eyebrows would raise in question, how her toned arms would move as she animated a funny story.

you felt like a lovesick puppy. but your friendship meant too much to risk fucking it up, so you made your peace with this one-sided infatuation.

as best friends do, you two did everything together; went to parties, listened to music, talked until the sun came up, had study/smoke sessions. meaning you studied, and she smoked.

“can you pass me that pen els” you asked, pointing to the biro a few inches from where ellie sat on your dorm floor, joint in her hand.

“what’s the magic word?”

“… abracadabra” you joked.

“wrong. now you don’t get your pen, sorry babe” she teased, picking it up and holding it behind her back.

your face flushed slightly from the pet name despite knowing she meant nothing by it.

“ellie i need to finish this essay. give me that pen” you warned

“why don’t you fuck off the essay and smoke with me instead” she offered hopefully, with a wide smile

you sighed.

“you know i don’t do that stuff” you said rolling your eyes. “and professor druckmann will end me if i don’t get this handed in by monday”

“well i will end you if you don’t stop being a priss and have a smoke with me. just a little bit, see if you like it.”

you frowned but said nothing. you had to admit you were slightly tempted by her offer. you’d always declined at parties, worrying about being in an unsafe environment. but just you and ellie, the person you trusted most in the world, in your dorm room… that’s pretty safe right?

“well.. i- i don’t know how” you said quietly.

“good thing i’m here then” she winked at you and scooched next to where you were sat on the floor, your back against your bed frame.

she held out the joint in front of you.

“just take a drag of mine. inhale and then try to keep it in your lungs okay?”

you looked at her and bit your lip in apprehension. you tried to ignore her eyes wandering down to your mouth as you did so.

“o-okay” you replied, as you took the joint from her fingers and held it up to your mouth, inhaling slowly and letting it ‘stay in your lungs’ whatever that meant, then slowly exhaling.

ellie was watching you with a small smile, feeling a sense of pride at you picking it up so quickly.

“atta girl. knew my smart girl would be a fast learner” she smirked as she playfully nudged your side and you let out a giggle.

~~~~~

a few hits later and your head was starting to feel fuzzy. ellie had taken the joint away insisting you not get ahead of yourself on your first time, missy and her slight condescending tone mixed with the weed had you feeling all tingly.

“feels nice els. ‘s a nice feeling” you spoke

“yeah?” she laughed.

“mhm. feel all fuzzy and tingly” you smiled and looked at the ground through heavy lids.

“i tend to have that effect on women” she joked, mouth turning up into a smirk.

cocky shit

“yeah” you said to yourself, lower than a whisper.

“hm?” she lowered her head to your face.

you snapped your head up.

“nothing” you mumbled.

she laughed and put her hand on your leg, just above your knee.

she was always touchy; often grabbing your hand to lead you somewhere instead of just telling you where to go, hand on your lower back as she stood behind you, or playfully grabbing your arm as she laughed at something you said. she pretended she didn’t notice the way you’d slightly tense up or the way your cheeks would go pink whenever she’d do this. despite the way she felt about you, she didn’t want to assume anything; maybe you blushed when she’d compliment you because you were shy. doesn’t mean you have feelings for her… right?

“you’re pretty when you’re high” she mused as she watched your eyes flutter, a blush creeping up on your face. there it is she thought.

“can’t say stuff to me like that” you said, looking down

“like what, babe?”

“like- like you’re pretty a-and babe. ‘s not fair on me” you uttered, voice small.

“but you are pretty.” a moment passed. “you’re beautiful.”

you looked up at her, searching her face for any hint of mockery or light-heartedness, but you couldn’t find it. your body felt warm and the fuzzy feeling all over felt even more intense.

“i’ve always thought you were beautiful,” she spoke. “the prettiest thing i’d ever seen.”

“ellie” you breathed out, heart beating fast and head swirling.

her hand moved up your leg, resting on your upper thigh and she moved her face closer to yours, eyes landing on your lips.

“can i kiss you?” she asked in a whisper, eyes not leaving your mouth as she spoke.

all you could do was nod, the combination of her words and the high making you unable to form a reply.

ellie grabbed your face with two hands and attached her mouth to yours. her lips were softer than you had imagined and she kissed you with a sweetness that juxtaposed the way her strong hands held your face. you kissed her back eagerly and it didn’t take long for her to take control of the kiss as she slipped her tongue inside your mouth, making you let out a small moan.

“fuck” she uttered against your mouth. “wanted to do this for so long”

she continued kissing you as one of her hands came down to rest on your waist. you felt dizzy with how turned on you were just from her kissing you.

“more.” you choked out. “please el”

“what is it you want baby? tell me” she replied, the hand that was resting on your waist, slowly coming up to stroke your side under your shirt.

“need you to- to touch me”

“i can do that” she smirked and grabbed your waist with both hands and placed you up onto her lap. her eyes sparkled as she looked at you, head titling up slightly from where you were placed on top of her, and you smiled shyly. lightly placing your hands on her shoulders, you kissed her sweetly. she dragged her hands from your waist up to your boobs and cupped them, fingers lightly ghosting over your nipples, then lightly pinching them.

“els” you moaned, head rolling back. you closed your eyes and let yourself focus completely on the blissful feeling of her hands on you.

“arms up” she instructed. you obeyed, lifting your arms up so she could lift your shirt up and over your head. she looked at you, green eyes now darker with lust.

“so fucking pretty" she muttered, almost to herself.

“this why you wanted to get me high?” you let out a small giggle.

“no,” her mouth upturned into a smile “but apparently when you’re high you forget to hide the way you stare at me.”

your eyes went wide and she laughed.

“‘s not a bad thing, it’s got you into my lap, hasn’t it?” she quipped.

“i hate you”

“‘s that right?” she titled her head playfully.

“mhm, i-“

she cut you off, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss, bringing her arms around your back and forcing your body to melt into hers.

[radioactivepeasant]

This Week's Prompt Schedule:

Monday: Strange Magic Monday

Thursday: I'm going to do a randomizer for one Fandom and one prompt and see what combo I get.

Options:

A. Final Fantasy 7. 1. Sick Day

B. Jak and Daxter. 2. Recognition

C. Legend of Zelda

3. Accidental baby acquisition

OK, I'm gonna go plug these into a randomizer. I'll reblog when I have the answer.

[yyokkki]

Warning: Chapter 7 Spoilers!!

Malleus Draconia

The local wizard! He’s a big enigma to the townspeople and people either hate him or love him! (Not true, literally only Leona and Diasomnia feel that strongly for him)

Not much is known about magic in this world and it’s said only fae and their descendants are capable of wielding it.

Lives in the forest in a tower that houses two very well maintained gargoyles. 

When you receive a letter from him about the junimos he adds that you should get gargoyles too for a better drainage system…

In this universe I think you would already know who he is from the get go but he won’t tell you his name so you nickname him Tsunotaro/Hornton anyways.

Is very close to Lilia, Sebek and Silver! Lilia raised him, he half raised Silver and Sebek is his apprentice! (He took him in out of fondness)

He’s actually a descendant of fae royalty from a fallen kingdom ages old but now he’s living at NRV.

He’s very lonely and was very glad to hear a little farmer with no knowledge of his reputation had moved in.

And yes, stone is a liked gift for him-

Loved Gifts: Ice Cream, Any Gem, Rose, Dinosaur Egg, Universal Loves

“Heh. It takes quite the feat to impress someone of my calibre, child of man. You’ve done well.”

Hated Gifts: Pink Cake, Chocolate Cake, Strange Bun (Specifically the Lilia branded ones…), Iron Bar, Universal Hates

“...” Lighting turns it into ashes.

Lilia Vanrouge

The owner and leader of the adventurer’s guild! Started it with Baul who is currently in the Skull Caverns.

Is actually fae and a powerful wizard but nobody in town knows, they just think he’s this weird kid who’s really good with the sword.

Lives in a little cottage in the woods with his son Silver who he took in when he was but a babe.

Malleus was living with them before but had to move out cuz his cauldrons and bookshelves were taking up too much space. They still live very close by though so he brings food over whenever he cooks! (Malleus teleports to ten different locations and Lilia follows)

.He’s considering retiring from his position at the adventurers guild and passing it onto Silver.

He has been training Silver and Sebek in the art of swordsmanship since they were young.

He’s in a band with Cater and Kalim, he plays the bass! Occasionally travels to the city for concerts!

Is often found at his cottage or at the adventurers guild!

Loved Gifts: Tomatoes, Black Licorice, Tomato Juice, Pizza, Strange Bun, Universal Loves

“How precious! I’m guessing my cuteness has charmed you? Fufu~”

Hated Gifts: Marshmallows, Solar Essence, Bat Wing, Universal Hates

“Hm. I'm rather disappointed in you, farmer..."

Silver Vanrouge

A knight in training, learning swordsmanship from Lilia! 

A lot of Lilia’s training consists of going down into the mines and freestyling so he picks up requests from the bulletin board often to hit two birds with one stone. Lilia banned him from going down alone after his first time passing out though…

Often passes out in the middle of the day and sometimes wakes up to see Ortho charging him 50 gold…

He’s a good friend of the animals in NRV and sometimes visits Kalim’s ranch to see them! He’s also the one who found the cat/dog that becomes your companion!

I feel like he has a mini garden near his cottage too! He bans Lilia from entering.

Goes horse racing with Sebek and Riddle every sunny Monday!

Is often found at his cottage, in the mines or taking a nap on a tree near town square.

Loved Gifts: Acorns, Mushroom Risotto, Coffee, Espresso, Universal Loves

“This is a great gift. How can I convey my gratitude?”

For Coffee and Espresso: “Thank you, farmer. This will keep me awake for training… Probably.”

Hated Gifts: Strange Bun (Also the Lilia branded ones…), Universal Hates

“Uhm, this is a rather… Unconventional gift."

For Strange Bun: “!! Has father been in the kitchen recently?!”

Sebek Zigvolt

A half-fae who’s the proud apprentice of the great wizard! 

Lives with his parents, older brother and older sister and is childhood friends with Silver! Lilia basically sees him as another son with how often he’s around.

His father works as a dentist in town and his mother is an adventurer!

His family goes on fishing trips often.

Is able to use magic due to being half fae but the village doesn’t wanna give him the respect that deserves cuz he’s such a loudmouth…

He also still trains with Silver and Lilia regularly!

Goes horseback riding with Riddle and Silver every sunny Monday but is actually deathly afraid of horses…

Loved Gifts: Salmon Carpaccio, Books, Universal Loves

“Hmph, not bad for a human!"

Hated Gifts: Coffee, Espresso, Iron Bar, Strange Bun (Once again…)

“A slight to me is a slight to Master Malleus! Be prepared, human!”

For Strange Bun: “T-This is!! I will accept this… For Master Lilia…”

---

TWST x SDV Masterlist

Tag List (Interact with the linked post to be tagged in future updates mwah)

Tag List Below Dropdown

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa @neuvilletteshusbandd @multifandomlazywriter @whimsybloom

@petaled-pages @blerp-22 @lazy-raven @the-ghost-0f-t0m0

@iamlowkeycrying @sleep-ydragon @loopdydee @hrhqueenfox

@mielle-estelar @cerisescherries @asillysleepy @sarah22447

@iamstillalive158 @fatally-incorrect @kumikokane @lettuceyarn

@awkwardlyso @banshee-y-etc @wolfdragongodex @honehbee42

@yvonneyudith @gyarukitti @animatesiti @paprikalol

@agaygothicmushroom

[secondlina]

It's webcomicday! I make those!

NAMESAKE -  is about saving the universe while improvising with portal & phenomenal cosmic powers, necromancy, and a literature degree. 

Emma Crewe doesn’t care for books, but has the power to literally be lost in one.

When Emma lands in another world following a library fire, she discovers she’s a Namesake — one with the power to open portals to other worlds via the power of their name: strange, fantasy, and fairy-tale lands we know thanks to literature, cinema, and folks tales. The rules of Namesakes are quite clear - Alices always go to Wonderland. Wendys always go to Neverland. However, Emma finds herself in Oz, where she is expected to act as the latest in a long line of Dorothies. She instead unveils a magical conspiracy plot that’s more than 100 years in the making.

While Emma is stumbling down the Yellow Brick Road, her younger sister Elaine discovers she’s a Writer — one gifted with the power to make stories come to life. Will Elaine be her sister’s key back home?

Aided by magic-wielding twins from Oz, a half-Cheshire Alice, a devilishly charming Jack, a sword-wielding Lost Girl, a hungry card soldier, and a confused Canadian, Emma must walk through many stories to find everyone’s happy ending.

Teens + / For fans of Wicked, Kingdom Hearts and Witch Hat Atelier. UPDATE Tues/Thurs.

namesakecomic.com

CROW TIME -  is a comedic comic strip about a shameless murder of crows and the consequences of their shenanigans on the fantasy lands they roam.

All Ages / For fans of Calvin & Hobbes, Sarah Scribbles and Dungeon & Dragons! UPDATE Mondays.

crow-time.com

[kiryoutann]

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛���𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 ::: 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀

TEMPLATE CREDIT. GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Childe is quite affectionate, if not, very affectionate.

He almost met the requirements for the five love languages—almost; the man failed in the quality time department, obviously. But he's a good lover. Opening and holding the door for you, only leaving after making sure you've reached the safety of your home, and giving gifts even on the most ordinary Monday.

"You look good in that dress, babe." "Let me see that pretty face." "Good morning, angel," and a whole bunch of other sweet nothings he said to you. Oh, how he loved to hold you on his lap, burying his nose in your sweet scent while ignoring the stack of documents that demanded his attention.

B = Babe (What would they use as pet names? Do they use them a lot?)

Definitely: doll, babe, baby, angel.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Childe is the biggest cuddle bug, and luckily doesn't have much free time for it (or else the man will forever demand it from you, as if he's eternally glued to your hip). Enjoys being the big spoon in the middle of a chilly night, naked. When you question him about how he remained alive, all he says is, "Darling, do I need to remind you where I come from?"

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Childe is quite good at cooking, but it's mostly Snezhnayan food. I always picture him in the kitchen, wearing a crimson or navy blue apron and flipping whatever is in the pan with a proud smile. Though he makes an effort to clean as much as he can, there is always a dusty spot that remains unattended. Still, he found the window and table wiping to be pretty enjoyable!

E = Emotion (How are they with showing emotion in public versus private?)

I think, by default, Childe is a pretty empty person if we put aside his dark desires and ambitions. In public, he looks like a chill guy. He is cold and full of discipline towards his subordinates. Childe is quite respectful of his fellow Harbingers and those he admires; keep a little distance and minimize conversations with some strange people (for example: Dottore). However, to his family, closest friends, and his significant other, Childe is as warm as the sun and wears his heart on his sleeve.

F = Flirt (How do they flirt? Are they smooth or awkward?)

Oh, he's a smooth flirt, alright. He knows his potential and maximizes it. Usually he squeezes three or four or more in his private time with you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Childe really gentle with his lover. God, I can't imagine the canon him being a violent person (despite his crazy hobby of wanting to fight any breathing creature within his radius). Would massage your feet if you asked. He kissed your ankles in an attempt to make sure there wasn't an inch of you left untouched by him. Treats you like a tiny little bird. Even if there is a moment where he's rough, you can bet it will, ahem, leave more pleasure than pain.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Childe loves hugs! However, I can't say he gave a warm hug. Most of the time, he does the initiating, and hugs from behind are his favorite thing to give.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Long enough for Childe to say these magical words. He had many considerations: was what he felt more than just admiration? Will his confession burden you? Anyway, despite his playful and easygoing persona, Childe didn't say these words carelessly.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

With his confident air, you'd think it would take a lot to make Childe jealous. Wrong. Whoever he considers to be stronger and more worthy than him, Childe turns into a green-eyed monster. But, there are some people who don't know their place that makes him sometimes… feel the need to emphasize his relationship with you.

In the first case, Childe might pout all day or sulk like a child. However, in the second case, he will show warning signs to the poor person by resting his hands on your hips or even a hug from behind while resting his chin on your shoulder. Oh, and that triumphant grin on his face when he knew the signal had been picked up.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Childe's kisses were of many kinds. Short kiss. Soft kiss. And kisses full of desire and longing every time he came back from a long mission or a tiring day. He likes to kiss you on the lips, knuckles, and neck. He loves receiving kisses on the lips, cheeks, head, and the tip of his nose.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

We know the answer to this one!! He is very. Very. Good. With. Children.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Unfortunately, Childe is an early bird, thanks to his job. There's not much you can do in the morning when he's on a work day other than watch him leave. You figure that comes with the job and loving the man. On his days off, he will make sure to spend more time in bed with you, either by cuddling or sleeping through the entire day.

But don't expect him to be as understanding if it has to do with your job. This ginger-haired devil will try his best to keep you in his arms and weigh you down with his body in the hope you'll change your mind about coming to work today. He's super dramatic when you don't.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Childe had irregular working hours, which meant most nights he came home late and you were already asleep. However, on days where he can go home early, he makes sure to take a bath together before going to bed. He's a light sleeper, by the way! Every time you turned around and moved away from him in your sleep, he made sure to pull you close back to him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Childe had many considerations about the things he held close to his heart. There are some things about him that he fears will change your perception of him. It took him a few months into the relationship to reveal a stupid little secret, and that too was delivered and disguised as a joke. After making sure the foundation of his relationship was stronger, he would then tell the things he only dared to whisper when night fell.

P = Propose (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

At first, I thought Childe was the type of person who would propose about two or three years into a relationship. However, now that I think about it, marriage is also a very, very big thing for him. He has no problem committing, but if we're honest, marriage never crossed his mind until he met you.

It would take quite a while if he wanted to propose marriage. Because apart from the nature of his job (and the possibilities that accompany it), Childe is quite sensitive to rejection. He'll have to make sure you're also on the same boat regarding marriage before he dares present you with the ring he bought somewhere in Mond.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I don't think he's the type of lover who has the ability to remember small details about his significant other. Sure, he remembers your favorite food, your choice of flowers, and the songs you used to hum; However, he's not the type to go into too much detail.

Despite that, Childe gave you the best things he could get. So, even though he sometimes forgets things you've mentioned before, you can surrender yourself completely to him because you know, Childe will move heaven and earth for you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The night he realized he loved you, as the world turned more colorful than ever. However, if Childe fell in love with you at first sight, his favorite memory would be the first time he laid eyes on you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Childe is quite protective, but (thankfully) not so much that you feel suffocated. He is quite secretive in protecting you. Always sweep his gaze around scanning for possible dangers in every place you visit. Not to the extent of ordering his subordinates to follow you, but he can always be sure and will go to any lengths so that you don't get hurt.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Childe is a good lover. However, gestures of affection are more about big things such as giving gifts, inviting to romantic dinners, and basic things that couples usually do. As I said before, he doesn't remember small details very well; but he makes sure everything he gives you is the best.

He may have trouble remembering what kind of ring you like, but you can bet your money he'll buy the shiniest one to adorn your ring finger. His effort can be seen from the way he gives the best, the most luxurious; while small and simple things like a picnic in the park, a walk around the lake are more your thing.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a partner?)

It's the fact that you hear how horrible he is – that he's this bloodthirsty warrior and all the gossip about how he's the Tsaritsa's weapon, and yet you only see a lovesick, little pomeranian puppy swinging his tail happily every time you look at him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

This pretty boy knows he's all that. It's so unfair how the effort Childe puts into his appearance only consists of washing his face with just water – showering – getting out of the shower with wet hair, and letting it air dry (how can his hair stay fluffy with so little care???). He only used one perfume that Tonia gave him (and mind you, he's been using it for YEARS). And... that's it. All set to take on the day.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?

He would die without you. That's enough said.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Childe did flirt here and there, but surprisingly, his only love experience was having a tiny schoolboy crush on a girl back in Snezhnaya when he was six years old. After falling into the abyss, his teenage years were filled with all the trouble he managed to cause – the fights he managed to be a part of before his father handed him over to the Fatui. Clear records of exes.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

??? I can't think of anything other than Childe doesn't like partners who are.. possessive. He was a young man who still loved traveling and exploring the world, and the thought of having a partner who intended to confine him to one place forever sounded hellish to him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Childe is either a lightsleeper or a very heavysleeper, there is no in between. On weekdays, he can jolt awake from the slight noise from the kitchen. But, he sleeps like a hibernating bear on weekend or when he has overworked himself. Childe likes to sleep on his stomach, shirtless. Snoring varies in intensity from light to moderate.

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

[revasserium]

nxx #2 - the best part

artem.

you are the best part of a monday morning, the soft click of heels, the whish of automatic doors, the light tap-tap of fingers on tablets. he knows just where you’ll be, a soft frown caught between your eyebrows; sometimes, when during meetings, or even just when he’s passing by your desk, he wishes he could reach over to smooth it over with a fingertip. when it’s late enough, he thinks about trying. other times, when it’s late-late enough — he actually does. and he’d sink into your startled gasp of laughter, the way you go slightly cross-eyed as he leans back to grin, shaking his head, “don’t frown like that… your face will get stuck.” and when you crinkle your nose and swat at his hand, your cheeks going the kind of pink that makes him think of every single sunset he’s yet to see, every single sunrise that’s still to kiss the sky, he has to stop himself from letting his fingers graze down to trace against your skin. “no it won’t…” but there’s no real conviction in your voice, and there’s something brilliant in the secret smile you share. “you’re right,” he admits, “but… i’m not sure i like it when i think about how often you frown in my presence.” he savors in the way you blush then, the way you press your lips, the startled and then resolute way you square your shoulders before saying, “then… i guess you should try to make me smile more often.” artem blinks for a second, and then — “sure… it’s a promise then. but... you’ll have to stay with me long enough for me to see it through.”

luke.

you are the best part of a september afternoon, his cardigan slipping off your shoulder as you pour through your work files. and even though he still feels some kinda way about you doing work while you’re with him — well — he looks down at his own pile of casefiles — he can’t really blame you anyway. birds of a feather and all. he grins as he glances up, only to find you smiling. “what?” you blush, looking away, “nothing — just… this is nice.” it’s his turn to blush now. and yes, he thinks, because this is what he loves — just this, just the moments in between, the quiet breaths and the unsaid words and the afternoon filtering through the autumn leaves, the coffee still lukewarm on the table between you. he takes a breath and looks at you, really looks at you — because he can’t remember a time when he didn’t know you, when he hasn’t loved you just like this — with the pure, simplicity of a september afternoon, as certain as tides, as simple as a child’s knowledge that this is the person he never wants to leave his life. “yeah,” he says, grinning broadly at you as he reaches over tug a strand of your hair between his fingers, “everything is nice when it’s with you.”

vyn.

you are the best part of every winter day, the distant, slanted light working its strange magic over the world, casting everything in its ethereal glow. “there’s just something about the winter sun,” you’d said one day, peering over towards the far horizon, shielding your eyes from the light, pausing as the pair of you walk hand in hand towards the corner store for something or other (vyn’s long since forgotten the minutia for the memory of you). he’d raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, waiting for you to continue, and after a second, you had, turning back towards him with frost-nipped cheeks and brilliant, snow-drop eyes, laughing as you wave at the casual, neighborhood scenery around you, “it makes everything look more beautiful, doesn’t it? like… it’s a dream, or some of those old fashioned picture filters…” to which vyn had smiled and gripped your hand just a bit tighter, “yes… i’ve always thought that winter was the most nostalgic season. it makes you miss a time that hasn’t yet come to pass. perhaps… a future with someone you love, no?” and he’d watched, fascinated, enraptured as you’d blushed and turned away, tugging him behind you, mumbling something about being unfair. and he thinks that if anyone were ever unfair — it’d undoubtedly be you.

marius.

you are the best part of a friday night — your laughter like the city lights, your smile, a million moons in a million distant skies, the shape of you dozing beside him in the back of limo, your cheeks kissed pink from all the wine. he thinks he could cup forever in the palm of his hands like this, thread your fingers with his and suddenly, he’s more sober than he’s ever been in his entire life, watching you nodding off next to him. he thinks he can see the next twenty, thirty, shit forty years of his life flashing outside along with the neon-night-skies, the way your lashes cast shadows along the high of your cheeks, the way your earrings rest against the bend of your neck. “mm… marius?” you ask, blinking sleepily up at him as the limo pulls to a quiet halt at a stoplight, your perfume making an absolute mess of his mind, and he has to clear his throat to hide just how many butterflies had exploded in the pit of his stomach at the sound of your sleep-sweetened voice — “i-it’s late… you can keep sleeping if you want… i’ll wake you up when we get home.” to which you’d leaned up and pressed as soft kiss to his cheek and it takes everything inside him not to pull you to him, press you into the limo seat and kiss you till the entire world melts away, “thanks… you should sleep too,” you say, nuzzling into the side of his neck, your breath chasing shivers up and down his spine. “y-yeah… i — i’ll try."

[dmmeeble]

I LOVED this story! It's an enchanting fic that effortlessly blends the Vic=cat fanon into a magic school AU to make the cutest catgirl Vic Chasemarsh story you could ask for. The way Vic works through her guilt and begins to better understand not just Kate, but many of the friends and frenemy’s in her life, is so heart-warming, and Charj3 makes great use of the setting to add a plethora of whimsical, fascinating and downright hilarious moments. I highly recommend everyone give this fic a read and @vulpes-aestatis know what you think! 🥰

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Life is Strange (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Victoria Chase/Kate Marsh Characters: Kate Marsh, Victoria Chase (Life is Strange), Maxine “Max” Caulfield, Chloe Price (Life is Strange), Taylor Christensen, Courtney Wagner Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Animal Transformation, Light Angst, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Background Pricefield, No beta we die like Jefferson’s career, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Victoria is a cat Summary:

It’s been a few months since Victoria’s life completely fell apart. After a late night magical accident transforms her into a cat, she seeks the help of one person she knows has a soft spot for furry animals.