#the moon is beautiful tonight but first die

[mangaxyz]

Can You Just Die, My Darling? - Last

Vol. 1 Ch. 4

[m-a-k-k-u]

I Love You, So I Kill You ▪︎ Can You Just Die, My Darling?▪︎ The Moon Is Beautiful Tonight But First, Die. ▪︎ Konya Wa Tsuki Ga Kirei Desu Ga, Toriaezu Shine

[for-ests]

When I talked to the moon last night, I told her about you.

husband!gojo x reader drabble. he loves his wife SO much. just little romantic rituals.

∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘

Shirtless, leaning against the railing of his balcony, Gojo exhaled blissfully. The curtains from inside flapped against the wind, reminding him that he hadn’t slid the doors shut. But he didn’t mind, as he was able to view your half-covered body tangled in his sheets, chest rising and falling in slow, peaceful breaths. A smile on your face despite the deep slumber he lulled you into. 

Satoru did promise that you would never fall asleep without a smile on your face if you married him. 

And he was proud to keep it. 

You were everything to him, and he found a routine to follow after making love to you—wandering out to his balcony to thank the moon, the stars, or whatever was shining down on him from above. Like he often did as a child, gazing up at the moon as if it contained all of life’s answers, as if its wisdom whispered the key to your happiness. 

Satoru found solace in the moon. And when the moon told him about the sun, he told the moon about you. The brightest, most important star in his universe. Nothing would ever outshine you in his mind. 

He was so lucky to have you, and a day never passed without him acknowledging it. 

Overcome with emotion, Satoru’s fingers tightened around the metal railing, slumping over it, as if he was afraid to keep gazing at the moon and its brilliance. The same overwhelming understanding washed over him. Gazing up at the moon was the equivalent of looking into your eyes. 

Such beauty. An indescribable force. You. His Goddess. How lucky he was to have you by his side, in his bed, in his life. 

The brightness from outside shined so perfectly into your eyes, that they flickered open. As you sat up, the first thing you saw was your husband on the balcony, deep in thought. 

The muscles of his back seemed to contort under the moonlight. Your husband was so melodramatic. 

“Is it a full moon tonight?” You whispered groggily from behind, not giving him a moment to reply before embracing him and resting your head against his back. 

He didn’t need to ask why you joined him, as the first few times he asked, you always mumbled a cute and tired, “Toru, you know I can’t sleep without you.” 

Chuckling softly, Gojo turned around to face you and pulled you into his chest. “Look for yourself, my love,” he whispered, pressing a light, gentle kiss on your forehead. 

Exhaling, your nose scrunched, a playful glint in your eyes as you glanced up at him. Every time he held you so tightly, so carefully and protectively, you felt like you were falling in love with him all over again. 

The brightness of the moon was clear, and it seemed to light up the entire sky, casting shadows along the drifting clouds, and highlighting Gojo’s features. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was your husband. How lucky you were. 

“What is the moon saying tonight?” you teased with a lighthearted tone. 

Satoru claimed that the moon told him to marry you, after all. You are my sun, Y/N. He whispered every time he had to depart from you. 

Without the sun, the moon would know nothing but darkness. And every morning, the light and joy you greeted him with was an everlasting reminder that he found his other half. 

Glancing back to the stars dotting the sky, hardly visible from the moon’s brilliance, Gojo’s eyes twinkled. “The moon congratulated me.” 

Arms slipping around his waist, you questioned in a curious murmur. “For what?” 

His head tilted back to gain a better look at you. “Somehow convincing you to marry me.” He smiled sleepily, leaning down to capture your lips again. Kissing you would never grow tiresome, it was the action he looked forward to most every morning and every night. It was like he would die without it. 

“Well the sun knows it didn’t take much convincing.” You took both of his hands in yours and tugged him back to the door’s entrance. “But maybe I can ask it again in the morning.” 

“Just to make sure?” He smiled. 

Falling back into the king-sized bed, you sighed innocently, beckoning Gojo to follow you. Once he did, you cuddled up next to him. One hand on his cheek, you pressed your lips against his. 

“The sun makes no mistakes, my love,” you mumbled against his lips. 

[dollwrites]

ᴘᴏsᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀɴs ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇʀ ᴋᴇɴᴛ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!heiress!reader, camming / sex work, objectification, rough sex, anal sex, hair pulling / spanking, reader is a superfan so there’s a power imbalance, playful banter and name calling. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act four [ camboy ]

you felt like the luckiest girl in the world right now, and you weren’t quite sure why. the reasonable side of you kept reminding that you had not been the only girl in this hotel room tonight, and you wouldn’t be the last. but the superfan in you fought against that, awestruck by the fact that Conner Kent was giving you the ride of your life.

Conner had so many fans, after all; many men and women across the globe that were just like you— visiting his live every weekend. Fridays and Saturdays quickly became your favorite days in the week, when you could willingly drain your bank account just to watch this beautiful man you’d become infatuated with get off in every way imaginable. if your parents ever found out just how you spent your allowance, and how many of your credit cards you’d already maxed out just to watch your fantasy become reality, you could almost swear they would cut you off. to be completely honest with yourself, your fathers multi-million dollar company had only a few more years left of profit if your addiction to Conner’s live chat room didn’t die out. you couldn’t help it— you were hyperfixated, and last month, your favorite camboy had a very special announcement: a way to thank all of his loyal fans— by meeting up with several whilst he traveled the country and fucking them senseless live in his hotel rooms. needless to say, you’d been over the moon when your city was one of the first stops on his tour; you’d dreamed of fucking this man for months now, and now you’d have your chance.

and he hadn’t disappointed.

your body rocked forward, smearing your face into the pillow with every backshot that you took. it was already difficult to breathe, as you wore a mask that covered your mouth and nose to keep your anonymity, but when one of his palms pushed against the back of your head and held you flush against the pillow, too, you felt as if you were overheating. both hands clawed at the sheets that were damp with a mixture of your and Conner’s sweat to combat the maddening pressure of his thick cock driving into you over and over again. his size had been manageable when he fucked your pussy, but since the second he’d begun to ravage your virgin asshole, you’d become acutely aware of just how big he was. the stretch was unreal, and when he’d switched holes, he left your cunt feeling hollow and uncomfortably empty.

“Damn, sweetheart, you were born to be a little whore, weren’t you?” Conner taunted, his hand then sweeping down your head and over your shoulders, following the arch in your back. “Made for this, designed to give up your tight holes, and let me bust them wide open.”

there was a loud chime that played whenever a viewer donated. the longer the chime, the more money the donation was, and at this point, you were certain the noise had become a never-ending song. one donation bled into another, and then another, and that chime became the soundtrack to your decimation. “Heh,” Conner was grinning, though his teeth were bared, and he chuckled hoarsely. his thick, heavy palm swats at your ass, and he watches as the flesh recoils and jiggles. “Tight, little daddy’s girl wants to be my favorite fuck-meat?”

with your face buried in the sheets, you could smell his scent clinging to them, and you just hardly resisted the urge to push the mask down and lap at the wet linens like a needy dog. you yip and nod at his question, which only spurred more and more donations from the virtual audience. Conner swooned, spanking your ass again, and again, and once more until it stung. then, he dug his fingers into your skin, the discomfort flaring further as he groped handfuls of your soft, warm ass. “I think the audience wants to hear you, princess.” he teases, squishing your ass against his rough palm, doing little to massage the sting away. “Tell ‘em.”

you raise your head, albeit weakly, and stare directly into the lens. you can see yourself in the viewfinder, and ( if you were coherent enough to care ) you almost couldn’t believe the mess he’d made you. hair mussed up, on all fours, with glassy eyes and slick skin. Conner had put you through the wringer, and he, somehow, still wasn’t done. you almost couldn’t force the words out amongst the cries and grunts as he ravaged your ass. “I—I—- want to be your favorite fu—-ckmeat- shit!!”

Conner hits an incredibly tender cord when one hand slips underneath your belly, and two thick digits plug your drooling hole. your eyes roll back at the intensity of having both holes filled, and you grip the sheets tighter, sputtering against the cloth mask as your head drops forward.

“Nuh uh uh, princess,” Conner croons, and his free hand slides from your ass up to the nape of your neck and over the shape of your lolling head, making a fist at the crown to grip your roots and force your head back up. his hips snap more fiercely, now, filling your canal to the hilt, his balls slapping against his own hand as he pumps his fingers into your cunt in tandem. heavens above, how the hell was he so good at overloading you?! “You hear all that?” he asks, gruffly. he was beginning to snort and howl like an animal, too, but he smeared his sweaty cheek to yours when he hunches over, pressing his rock-solid torso to your back. “All that fucking money you’re making me? You should know better than anyone, baby girl, what the audience wants to see me do to a spoiled brat like you. What do they want?” he hisses it against your cheek, using his tongue to swirl the taste of your sweat around before pulling it into his mouth.

“They— want to see you fuck me stupid…!!” you cry out.

“That’s right,” Conner was scoffing and his voice was strained and husky as he plowed into you, now, gripping your hair tight enough to keep your brows knit tightly in discomfort. “So let’s not hide those pretty, pretty eyes. They want to see them glaze over. The more they get to see you break, the more they’re going to pay.”

it was the obvious answer. if you were in the audience, you would want to see it, too. how braindead Conner’s cock could drive the poor recipient of his earth-shattering, skillful fucking. however, being on the other end of it was somehow even better. being able to cum and cum and cum some more without this adonis even losing steam or vigor, making it clear that you wouldn’t have a single moment of peace until he was finished ( and yet? no end was in sight ), and feeling every thought— every worry and every feeling not directly connected to Conner Kent’s cock as he pounded you just fracture and fall away with every thrust into you. it was an addicting, degrading, delicious experience. one that you knew you’d never forget.

[icanhearcolors]

I really love the idea of Tav drawing Astarion to show him what he looks like, could you maybe write something about that? ^-^

Hiiiiii! I can indeed thank you for the request :b

Welcome back to another episode of Abby tries to write something short and can't make it less than two thousand words.

EVERYBODY LOOK AT THIS GIF CUZ KJNKBJHGFRRETFO

Sorry I think I got possessed for a second there

Word count: 2.1k

The night sky had never been this gorgeous in the city. In Baldur’s Gate, the upper city was illuminated by mage lights that adorned the cobblestone paths. The light was bright enough that the citizens split into two factions, the night life and the day. Even those without dark vision could operate solely at night in total comfort if they chose to. In the lower city, fires were always burning, sending plumes of rich smelling smoke into the air constantly, obscuring the night sky.

But out here, under the blue light of a full moon, you can see every star and constellation in vivid detail. A soft purr-like snore hums against your back, and you brush a hand over the downy feathers of the owlbear cub you rescued from the goblins. He was getting so big. If he gets half as big as his mother was it is going to become a challenge to travel with him. It’s a sacrifice you’re more than willing to make. Besides, you could always cast the reduction spell on him in a pinch if any problem arose. He sleeps curled around your back, alongside his friend Scratch the dog, whose fluffy white head is resting in your lap.

The campfire crackles a few yards ahead as Wyll adds a few logs, humming a Baldurian tune you recognize but can’t quite recall the name of.

For the first time since the nautiloid crash you feel peaceful. Safe.

You turn your gaze to Astarion’s tent, probably for the thousandth time tonight, and stare at his profile as he flips through the pages of the seemingly sentient necromancy tomb you had discovered a few tendays prior. A faint green light curls from the pages like mist, illuminating half his face and casting the rest in shadow. You’d never really understood the saying “so beautiful it hurts'' until you met Astarion. An unknown emotion compresses your chest in a way that makes it hard to breathe sometimes when you look at him. You think it started out as empathy. Every detail of Astarion’s story he revealed to either warn you about vampires or shock you for his own amusement painted a picture of a horrific life full of trauma and misery that you found hard to reconcile with your enigmatic companion. He was always the first to crack a joke. He laughed loudly and on a constant basis. From an outsider’s view he’d appear almost carefree. Happy even. You wondered now how much of that laughter was real, and how much of it was the armor he’d donned a couple hundred years ago when he breached the surface of his own grave. You recall a conversation you had with him a while back about vanity. In his two hundred and forty years, give or take, he’d only been able to see his reflection for thirty nine. An incredibly young age to die for a high elf, and a small fraction of his life-span. Even if any fuzzy memory remained of that past life, it was no longer accurate anyway. 

He was something different now. 

Your eyes slide to your pack. You had found something yesterday- something rare indeed. A merchant selling art supplies outside of the city. You had everything you needed to give Astarion something you took for granted every day. His reflection.

Slowly, both as to not disturb your sleeping friends and not alert the elf in question to your actions, you slip a hand inside the bag. Your fingers find a pencil easily, the paper next, and you begin to draw. At first you draw him as he is, using his current unmoving form as a model, but you had been quite the artist in your time in Baldur’s gate, and you finished that drawing almost too quickly. So, you draw him again from memory, this time with his head thrown back, face scrunched with laughter. Then you draw his frown, his smirk, the condescending expression he so often gives Gale, the softer one you don’t quite understand that he reserves for you. You don’t hide or downplay his vampiric traits. You draw him exactly as he is, blending colored chalk to capture every shade of red in his eyes. Time falls away as you lose focus on everything but your work. Eventually, some time much later, the cramps in your muscles wake you from your trance. You stretch, and your knees, shoulders, and spine crack loudly. Scratch wakes up, stands, shakes himself off, and trots into the bushes. Your owlbear notices, and trills a soft sound before standing too, following him into the woods. You smile as you watch them amble off, happy they get along so well. You turn back to your drawings and examine them with new eyes. You expected to feel excitement, pride maybe, but instead a cold feeling ties your insides in knots as you realize you can never give these to Astarion. The drawings are some of your best work, but they’re also… reverential. A glimpse of Astarion through your eyes. Anyone who saw them would think you had drawn your lover, not your less-than-trusting involuntary traveling companion. He would take one look and realize exactly what you’ve been hiding from him since- well since you met him. You were infatuated with the vampire, and somehow, miraculously, despite the fact that you’d slept with him once already,  he seemed to be unaware.

He was going to find out.

You eye the campfire, half tempted to toss the whole pad of paper into it.

In your panic you turn your gaze toward Astarion’s tent.

He’s not there. 

His tent is open, and no one is inside it. You can see that from here. 

Somehow- maybe it’s the tadpole, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent so much time with the rogue, you realize you know exactly where he is.

Slowly, as if to avoid instigating an attack from a stalking predator, you turn your head to find Astarion standing behind you, peering over your shoulder.

Even though you were expecting it, you still startle out of your skin. Astarion drops to his knees on the ground in front of you and claps his hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your screech. You both look at eachother with wide eyes before turning slowly and in unison towards a sleeping Lae’zel. She’s frowning in her sleep, which isn’t unusual for her. She twitches, and then rolls over to her other side, sound asleep. You sigh in relief, through your nose because your mouth is still covered by Astarion’s hand. You swat it away and throw him a withering glare.

“What the in the hells is wrong with you?” You whisper-shout.

Astarion presses his lips together and turns his head away from you for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Oh yeah, laugh it up. If she’d woken up we’d be dead right now.”

“Look it’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You haven’t moved in almost four hours, I wanted to know what you could possibly be writing.”

You clutch the drawing pad to your chest and swallow nervously, eyes darting around for any glimpse of something you can use to distract him.

Unfortunately as you’ve come to realize, regardless of what they used to be, once turned vampires become lethal predators. Astarion sees your darting eyes, catches the scent of your fear, and you see the shift in his demeanor. 

His movements become slower, more fluid, as he tilts his head in malicious curiosity.

He reminds you sometimes of the big cats that roam the mountains of Faerûn. Once something captures his attention, there’s little use in trying to pull him off the hunt.

Still, you’re going to try.

“I’m not writing.”

His eyes flick to your hands, dusted in red powder, then back up. He hums.

“Drawing then. What have you been drawing Tav?” 

His voice is darker now. Persuasive. 

“It’s- uh… personal.”

Astarion lowers himself fully to the ground and stretches his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his arms. 

“A personal drawing?” He purrs, “Well now I have to see it.”

“No-” You cover your face with your hand, “That’s not what I meant and you know that Astarion.”

A moment of silence passes, so you lift your hand away from your face.

Astarion is gazing at you with that unknown expression again. His eyes look earnest, a soft smile on his lips, when he speaks the words that are your undoing.

“You can trust me, Tav. I already know how talented you are, you don’t have anything to worry about. Just show me.”

You sigh, and his smile grows. He knows he’s won.

Bastard.

“Fine you can see my drawings, but I need to tell you-”

The drawing pad is already out of your hands, your permission apparently all that was keeping Astarion from snatching it away from you.

Your heart stops at his first look at the paper. He stills, flipping through the drawings slowly, his eyes tracing every detail with excruciating slowness.

Finally, he puts you out of your misery.

“I-” He clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. “These are...”

He grips the paper tightly when you attempt to take the drawing pad back from him. You’re confused, and a little… well actually very hurt for a reason beyond your understanding.

Does he hate it? Did you overstep?

“What are you thinking?”

Astarion finally looks at you, his expression guarded. He points to the drawings.

“Who is this?”

Oh.

You’re shocked silent. You should have anticipated this. Of course Astarion wouldn’t recognize himself in your drawings. That was the entire reason you drew him in the first place.

“He’s um-” You fall silent again.

Astarion looks both terrified and heartbreakingly hopeful. You’re sure he already knows the answer. You’ve spoken to him at length about what he is. You know that he knows he’s the only vampire spawn you’ve ever met, and you’ve been traveling together without much separation ever since.

He still needs to hear you say it.

You stare at your wringing hands in your lap and take a deep breath.

“I remembered that conversation we had about how you don’t know what you look like, you just have to go off of what other people tell you, and I bought these art supplies earlier and I haven’t drawn in so long, I used to all the time but with everything that’s going on- and I meant to just draw you once but I wanted you to know what you looked like when you smiled too and then I got a little carried away I’m so-”

You don’t hear him move. Your rambling speech stutters to a stop at the sensation of a hand on your cheek. Astarion hooks his thumb under your chin and lifts your head just enough to press his lips to yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise and then flutter closed. All thoughts cease, replaced by a languid warmth that melts you into a puddle on the ground.

You tilt your head and kiss him back, a tingling sensation racing down your spine. His hand slides from your cheek into your hair, and he gently pulls your head back, deepening the kiss in a way that steals the air from your lungs.

All too soon he pulls back, just a few inches, and smiles.

A real, genuine smile that shows his teeth and lights his eyes. You think you would do terrible terrible things to see that smile more often.

He brings his other hand up to frame your face, holding you in place as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

“Thank you.” He says simply, his voice hoarse.

“This is a gift. I won’t forget it.”

He repeats the words he said to you what feels like centuries ago, the night you found out he was a vampire and agreed to feed him. 

“You’re welcome.” Is all you can think to say.

With absolutely no warning at all Astarion drops his hands to your shoulders and yanks you toward him just in time. A pillow, rather violent in its velocity, grazes the back of your head in its catapult into the forest. Somewhere in the dark woods, Scratch yelps.

“Next time it will be my sword Isticks”

Growls Lae’zel from her bed roll on the other side of the campfire.

You turn back to Astarion with an amused but also terrified expression, and he smiles knowingly, rolling his eyes.

He picks the drawings up off the ground from where they’d been scattered at some point and gathers them in one hand. He stands, hoisting you up with his free hand, and practically drags you across the camp to his tent.

You’ll have to draw him more often.

[matan4il]

Ahead of Eurovision 2024

I was listening to Eden Golan's song, Hurricane.

At first, it didn't seem to me like it stands out. I'm one of the people who prefers my Eurovision song less on the power ballad side of things, so this being in that genre...

But then I found myself haunted by the lyrics. By specific lines. Singing them to myself quietly, over and over again. I had to listen to the song again.

And it got to me, it really did, I haven't stopped listening to or singing it since, so I guess I needed to share a bit.

There's more than one hint that this is a song about mourning and survival. Lines like, "someone stole the moon tonight, took my light" can be interpreted in more than one way. But they become less ambiguous when combined with ones like, "holding on in this mysterious ride," when the mysterious ride we're all on is life itself. It makes it clearer that this isn't just a break up song. Then it becomes even more explicit with, "we shall pass, but love will never die."

The imagery in the videoclip is also telling, that ending when Eden is looking up, much like many do when talking to or thinking about a loved one that we have lost.

But the line that gets to me the most, the first one that took over my brain? "I'm still broken from this hurricane."

We all get what this song is about, in the wake of what happened here in October 2023, and since. And I am broken. So many Jews and Israelis are. As one survivor said (his words have haunted me first, then I heard them echoed in this song): "We are broken, but strong." That's exactly what the song is about, deeply feeling the pain and the tragedy, the loss, this impossible to accept grief, and still trying to find a way to live with it, to survive not just the horrors of a massacre, but the trauma that follows it as well.

The other line that affects me the most is directly related to this, "baby, promise me you'll hold me again." Because I have spent the last 5 months watching the news, seeing the funerals, and hearing people breaking down, as they say a variation of this to their loved ones, who are gone. Asking for a promise that can't be made, or fulfilled, and knowing that it can't, even as the request is being uttered. I hear their voices breaking around their words, whenever I listen to or sing this line.

The videoclip is also infused with imagery that's related to the massacre of over 360 people at the Nova music festival (and the kidnapping of 40 more from that scene), which is in a way very apt for music lovers. The images show dancers in what looks a lot like a nature party, just like Nova, and since the massacre happened when the music festival was meant to reach its peak, a long night of music and dancing climaxing around sunrise, that's exactly what we see, a move from the "moon light" throughout most of the videoclip, to the "sunrise" at the end.

But in the case of this "sunrise," Eden can smile, she can find comfort, she can sing a few words in Hebrew that reflect hope, about that little light that's left even when the moon's been stolen.

She's bringing the song to a beautiful, emotional closure.

Obviously, it can't be ignored that this is a re-write. The original song (which was called October Rain) was disqualified as "political."

You can read the original lyrics here. They're almost identical. I heard an interview with the song writers, who said they weren't even told what got their song disqualified, so they had to guess what the Eurovision Broadcasting Union had in mind, when they called an expression of our pain, and our strength at the face of that, "political."

I admit, I find it very hard to accept this disqualification. It's not like there isn't precendent for countries at the Eurovision expressing pain (including the kind originating from political circumstances) through their songs.

If you take the wildly popular Ukraine 2007 entry, the singer was quite obviously singing "Russia goodbye," with allusions to Russian interference in Ukrainian elections while wearing outfits reminiscent of Soviet uniforms. And that wasn't called political, because "Russia goodbye" was changed into gibberish that still sounds like it (and in recent performances, it was blatantly sang like that).

If you take the much talked about Croatia 2023 entry, it was about the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, and also criticized Belarus' tyrant kissing Russia's tyrant's ass, by referencing the tractor that Lukashenko bought for Putin, while the band members played with military weapons and uniforms on stage. And that wasn't disqualified for being political.

If you take the Ukraine 2016 entry, that was explicitly singing about their pain over what the Russians did to the Tatar population in Crimea in 1944, with clear allusions to what Russians did when they invaded Ukraine's Crimean peninsula in 2014. And that wasn't called "political" either.

Even this year, we have the entry from The Netherlands being political, with both the lyrics and videoclip referencing the borderless Europe (which IS a political issue, as Brexit, if nothing else, had made clear). I've seen people pointing out online that the song isn't political, because the whole borderless Europe thing is a metaphor for the singer's grief for his father/parents. I have no problem with that reading, but let's acknowledge that there could have been many metaphors for that, and he chose a political one.

So why is Jewish pain treated differently? Why is our pain labeled "political," when the metaphors for it in the songs aren't that, there are no specific political mentions of people or organizations in the song (unlike the Georgia 2009 entry, which slipped Putin's name into the song's title) in either version, when there are no political statements being made in the song, there's just expressing our pain, and trying to find a way to cope with it?

This WAS the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, and expecting Jews not to write about it, not to sing about it, not to try to process it through art... Our pain is not political. It's human. When Ukraine won in 2022 with a song that wasn't originally political, but became one, as it was adopted by Ukrainians suffering from a war that they did not choose, but had to fight, singing it wherever they were displaced (I remember the winners, Kalush Orchestra, coming to Israel to sing it for and with Ukrainian refugees who found shelter here), I thought it was quite obvious, even for people who don't like politics at Eurovision, why the song won, and why everyone overlooked the fact that it was only partly based on its qualities as a Eurovision song. I don't expect Israel to win, I very much expect that, even as Israelis embrace this song about our pain during a war, that we didn't choose, but have to fight, and while hundreds of thousands of us are still displaced, we will get a lot of hatred, instead of understanding and sympathy. But I still have to speak up. I still have to point out that treating Israeli or Jewish pain differently is wrong.

(as a footnote, I wanna get ahead of the usual, "Why is Israel allowed to participate in Eurovision to begin with? It's not in Europe!" comments, while I haven't come across the same ritual for certain other Eurovision participants, like North African Morocco, just-as-Asian-as-Israel Lebanon, transcontinental {despite some of these countries only being considered European culturally, while geographically speaking, they're fully Asian} Georgia, Russia, Cyprus, Turkey, Azerbaijan and Armenia, and the one that's a continent all on its own, Australia. They all have the right to participate, because they all belong to the European Broadcasting Union. Just like Israel)

[vetitiscripta]

i wanna see ren grow horrified when he realizes mc only follows instruction because theyre literally being controlled by strade. i want to see him question it all and maybe even lose it a bit when he realizes mc hadn't acted alone. and most of the violence had been the same man he'd let bleed out that day on the ground. i want to see how bad that takes a toll on his mind.

anon your mind. mentally kissing you on the mouth anon

for those who missed it- this is regarding my ghost strade au

for this au, i like to think that strade can really only interact/“control” mc in certain moments, probably something like due to strong emotions (take that as you will 😏) or whatever

but god!! ren thinking that mc genuinely wants to do this type of stuff or hang out with him of their own free will only to find out its all because of strade. he would start thinking about everything that has happened and would wonder if any of it was genuine

he’d think about the time he found you late at night on the couch, watching one of strade’s old snuff films. he thought that you had finally understood, had come to appreciate the beauty of it all like he had. he cuddled with you on the couch as you put on another one on. (you had woken up that night in a cold sweat, an intense urge to watch one. strade stood in the corner of your room just watching you, smile on his face every time you looked at him. you tried to ignore the urge, ignore him, but it eventually wore you down. you trudged down the stairs and stood in front of the dvds, letting strade pick the one he wanted. you watched 3 films before ren found you, your tears already dried)

he’d remember the time you willingly slept in the same bed with him for the first time. it was late at night and he was trying to find an anime to watch when you softly knocked on his door. when he opened the door you were basically shaking, eyes darting around. “can i sleep with you tonight?” ren was over the moon when you asked, basically had hearts in his eyes (he’s down bad don’t make fun of him). he thinks you’ve come around, you finally see that you love him like he loves you. he happily welcomes you in his bed, arms wrapped around you so tight you fear he may snap you in half, anime playing in the background as you both fall asleep. (strade wouldn’t leave you alone that day. he was constantly around you, pestering you. sometimes he would just hover over your shoulder, watching your every movement, other times he would be telling you stories, the things he did and how he did them. every waking moment was spent with strade, you were so tired. you were happy when it was finally night and you could sleep. but then you felt the bed dip and felt hands on your legs, slowing inching their way up. you shot out of bed faster than ever and made your way to ren’s room. swallowing your pride for the night would be better than dealing with strade for another 5 minutes)

the encounter with lawrence was a staple in your relationship, you two were brought together since then (he believed) and he was so happy with you, he knows that he you were meant to be his

the day you tell him everything, he seems to crumble. he’s frozen as you tell him everything, fear on his face. he wanted to believe it was a joke, a bad joke that he could punish you for but you knew too much for it to be a coincidental joke. you were crying at the end of it, overwhelmed by everything that had been going on, and ren felt close to tears himself

he thought he was done with strade. sure his body is in the basement freezer, but he was no longer controlled by him, strade had no power over him anymore. (he might be lying to himself on that, he tries to be what strade was, tries to fill the empty feeling he got when he watched strade die)

and now you’re telling him that strade is still here just as a ghost? that strade was watching everything? that strade still had control?

i think that ren would try to regain control, would try to show that strade might still be around, but he is in charge now. he’d shock you before you can comprehend what he’s doing and you would wake up in the basement, tied to the pole. ren stood over you, knife in hand. strade stood just behind him, biggest smile you have ever seen on his face. you focused back on ren as he crouched down, “is he here?” you looked back up at strade before nodding. “good” a glint of metal caught your eye as ren brought the knife to your skin

[paradiseprincesss]

intro (end of the world) | jonathan crane

summary: jonathan reflects on how much he truly adores you.

warnings: none, this is pure fluff.

word count: 800 words

masterlist

"jonathan, you don't have to do all that." you say with a giggle (which makes his heart soar), watching your beloved boyfriend from the couch whilst sitting comfortably.

"yes i do." he says matter-of-factly, picking up the heavy boxes and moving them around.

the two of you were in the process of moving in together, having found a gorgeous but quaint little apartment on the east end of gotham - perfect for the two of you. the sun was setting and the rays of light shining through the glass sliding door, which lead to the balcony, was reflecting onto jonathan; making him look like an angel.

he insisted that you sit this one out - by "this one," he meant the entire process of moving. well, the physical part of it, that is. he hadn't let you carry a single box, acting as if you were a delicate flower that would crumble at any given moment.

earlier on, he had let you carry one box, just one; and it was the lightest one out of all of them, weighing maybe ten pounds, at most. as you were putting the box down, it had accidentally slipped out your grasp, causing it to fall from your hands and snag the side of your freshly done acrylic nails - causing one of to break.

before you could even say "ouch," jonathan was rushing to your side going into full-blown doctor mode, doting on you in his own way - which you found adorable.

you tried to reason with him about it, telling him that it didn't hurt very much, and that you could manage - but he wasn't having it.

and that's how you ended up spending the rest of the afternoon on the couch, not lifting a single finger while jonathan did all the heavy lifting and hard work.

"i think that's the last of the boxes." he announces proudly, and you just shake your head at him with a soft laugh. "you're ridiculous."

he comes over to you on the couch, smiling, and pulls you into his side as he gives you a loving kiss.

smiling.

that was something jonathan didn't do very often, if you ever worked with him, you would know that - but you weren't work.

you were everything to jonathan. everything. he could never get tired of you.

when he first met you, he couldn't tell whether you were a fragment of his imagination or not. you were just so beautiful, he'd never forget how it felt to cross paths with you for the first time. in that moment, he'd come to learn what love at first sight was.

through the course of your relationship, he was left astonished on a regular basis. "how are you real?" he'd ask himself, while watching you do the mundane, every day tasks of life. how could someone look so angelic while doing something as simple as watering a potted plant or writing down their grocery list for the week?

he knew the answer to that question; because it was you.

how could someone look so perfect on their worst day? because it's you. how could jonathan possibly let someone into his heart and see his vulnerable side, you ask? because it's you, that's why.

you were the answer to everything in his world, the beautiful soul that brought his flatlining soul back from whatever purgatory he was living in before.

and if said purgatory was truly a real place, then so be it. if he was to die right now, and his soul was sentenced to stay in a state of purgatory, hell on earth for eternity - he was okay with that, because in his living, waking life - at least he got a chance to know you, to love you, and to call you his.

your voice brought him out of his thoughts as he held you tightly on the couch, the sun gleaming it's golden glow on the two of you.

"if the sun refused to shine, would i still be your lover?" you ask, your paradoxical question making him smile as he answered you. "of course you would be, my love. you'd be mine in every universe."

with a sigh, he asked you his own paradoxical question. "if the moon went dark tonight, and it all ended tomorrow, would i be the one on your mind?"

you looked at him with that same lovedrunk gaze you always gave him, smiling cutely, and beaming like the sun outside.

"you never leave my mind, actually." you tell him, and you could've sworn he was almost tearing up as he looked away from you for a moment, and you could tell he's feeling a little emotional - but that's alright because it's with you, and you are his absolute everything.

in his past lifetime, this lifetime, and the rest to come.

[mangaxyz]

Can You Please Die, My Darling? - Last

Vol. 1 Ch. 4

[m-a-k-k-u]

I Love You, So I Kill You▪︎Can You Just Die, My Darling?▪︎The Moon Is Beautiful Tonight But First, Die.▪︎Konya Wa Tsuki Ga Kirei Desu Ga, Toriaezu Shine

[bambisnc]

WHAT WE DONT WANT PART 3 WE NEED ITT!!👺👺🔥

with the setting moon [ft. j.wy]

-> + [series m.list]

pairing : wony x reader genre : fluffyy/angstish + fake dating trope! (but its not fake anymore?!?) cw/tw : dying mention + kissing + ik this is actually not accurate fr but wikihow said this so i js ran w it -> i do suggest looking at it b4 u read! wc : 1 ish page ehe

"the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

“not as beautiful as you darling~”

wonyoung, your fake girlfriend, obviously refuses to leave a single opportunity to make your face flush delicately with her subtle remarks, teasing comments or scattered suggestive touches. you need practice, she insists, if anyone is to believe the two of you are dating.

but it’s been months since that one wednesday afternoon when she’d roped you into her plan to make her ex jealous. it’s been months and you can’t help but feel shocked as you compare the wonyoung of then - focussed on her goal of showing up her ex and his new girlfriend and rigidly following the rules she’d set between the two of you; to the wonyoung of now - who seems to have zero inhibitions when it comes to you, breaking rules one by one until you're not sure you can even recall there being any in the first place.

it’s killing you. and you’re sure she’s completely unaware.

it pains you how the practice sessions always escalate to various heights of intensity. it pains you how she still manages to weave in adoration and care in every single action of hers.

exhibit a : she currently has you in her car; one hand carelessly resting on your thigh as the other scrolls through her phone looking for a playlist she liked.

also notable is that her car is parked in the most gorgeous setting you could ever imagine; fairytale-like in all its essence with a view of glimmering city lights and quiet grassy land behind you.

you allow your head to lean back on your seat, and bask in the starlight through the sunroof with your eyes fluttering shut.

… you won’t deny that your seemingly nonchalant remark about the moon was more to scope out her thoughts. about this situation. about you. the japanese legend was rather popular but it wouldn’t be right to assume she did know about it. 

she probably didn’t know about it.

but if she did, would she have answered it the way you hoped..?

wonyoung’s grip tightens on your thigh ever so slightly, in a playful manner but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart run laps. her phone now abandoned, she allows herself to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

it’s like she can always sense when your mind wanders away and is more than willing to bring it back to the present, back to her.

as if you could ever bring yourself to leave.

“hey. earlier what you said about the moon..,” she places a light kiss right at the corner of your mouth, “i actually meant to say that, yeah it is. and now, i can finally die happy..”

oh.

oh.

notes : ANON ILY FOR THIS ! ! + sighs </3 i think this is the end of wony chronicles </3 + [m.list] song rec : off the record c'mon now it's the official theme song 4 the series .. <3

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Title: Don’t Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Warnings: Daddy kink, pet name (Sweets), praise kink (slightly), ass worship, butt plug, anal fingering, first time *romantic* anal, creampie

A/N: Based on this poll, Steve Rogers won. Submission for @the-slumberparty’s Eight Types of Love February 2024 Sleepover Challenge (Eros-sexual passion). Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Spotify Playlist

My Masterlist

His fingers glide across the skin of your shoulder blade as sunlight cascades over your beautiful brown skin while you sleep on your stomach. He marvels at how you seem to glow in the rays of the morning sun. Leaning in, he places a chaste kiss on your lips, trying his best to wake you gently.

You grumble, the weight of his kiss just enough to pull you from a deep slumber. 

“What was that, Sweets?” Steve’s sultry baritone invades your consciousness and you open your eyes.

“I said, ‘five more minutes’,” you plead, pouting up at Steve and hoping he would give you a break after seeing your tired eyes.

No such luck.

“Nice try, Sweets. You know what today is, right?” he asks, peppering kisses to the top of your bonnet-covered hair.

“It’s...Wednesday?” you guess, trying your best to get back to REM sleep.

“Yes, technically, it is Wednesday. It’s also…” he trails off, waiting for the pieces to click into place in your mind.

You lift your head, locking eyes with Steve. For three whole seconds, you just look at him with a confused expression on your face until it hits you. “It’s Valentine’s Day!” you chuckle, and playfully swat at him.

“Now, she’s cooking with gas. I thought it was gonna take you all day to figure it out,” he jokes, laughing as you roll your eyes at him.

You turn around in bed and swing your legs over the edge. Reaching up to untie your hair, your braids cascade down your back. Peeking over your shoulder, you catch Steve watching you while one of his hands runs through his golden tresses.

“Caught ya looking, Daddy,” you tease before standing and walking around the bed to his side. He reaches out to touch you, but you pull back at the last second. “Unh-uh! Not until tonight. I got something special planned for you.”

“Something special, huh? Well, I can’t wait. But I guess I will have to, won’t I?” he guesses, standing up from the bed to tower over you. He lifts his hands in surrender after you point a manicured finger at him. “Hands to myself, I promise. For now,” he flirts, walking around you to go into the bathroom to shower.

While Steve is in the shower, you mentally run down your checklist of things for tonight. Your new pink glass buttplug, check! New red lace lingerie, check! You had everything planned down to the last detail and you were very excited to see Steve’s reaction. Now, all that was left was to get everything ready while Steve was away for the day.

Steve comes back to your darkened apartment that night, surprised to see a trail of red rose petals and vanilla-scented tea lights leading him to the bedroom. He stoops down to grab the card that was left near the door.

‘Daddy, 

Come and unwrap your present.

-Sweets’

Making his way along the petaled path, he reaches your slightly ajar bedroom door. Pushing it open, he is greeted by you kneeling in the center of the bed. A red rose hairclip holds the right side of your braids back, and the red lace bodysuit you wear hugs all of your curves perfectly.

You take in the way Steve looks at you like you hung the moon. His ocean eyes darken as he takes in your scent, your favorite perfume lingering in the air. 

“Hi, Daddy. Happy Valentine’s Day,” you hum, making your way to where Steve stands at the foot of the bed. “Why don’t you join me? You can put these big, strong hands to use,” you slide your arms around his neck and instinctually, his hands go to your waist.

Leaning down to claim your lips, he doesn’t hold back teasing his tongue along the seam of your mouth. Once you let him in, he takes control of the kiss. Swallowing down your whimpers and moans, he cups the back of your head and nibbles your bottom lip.

Breaking the kiss, he laughs lowly when you try and follow his lips. “I think I was promised a gift, Sweets. Now, what might that be?” he muses, his fingertips moving along the red lace until he comes upon a pebbled nipple.

You take his hand and guide it to where the gusset of your bodysuit would be, now drenched with your slick. You nod and he explores your soft folds through the crotchless lace. He knows how to play you like a damn fiddle. Gathering your moisture and applying just the right amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves.

Within moments, he has your legs weak while he gives your clit some much-needed attention. His other hand goes to your chin so that you look up at him as he brings you over the edge. You fight to keep your eyes open as the chains of orgasm are broken, your throbbing pussy creaming his hand.

“Such a good girl for me. God, you’re perfect, Sweets,” he praises, still unaware of what you have in store for him as he takes off his tie and goes to unbutton his shirt.

“Daddy, I have a surprise for you. I’ve been working all day long on it,” you chime in, biting your lip as you cup Steve’s erection through his slacks.

“You go ahead and show me that surprise, now,” he encourages, watching intently as you turn around and present yourself to him with your ass in the air. His hand goes to your hip, slowly moving toward your ample backside. Groping your ass, he finds something he had hinted at only weeks ago. “Oh, fuck. Look at this adorable little plug. Have you been wearing this all day, Sweets?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ve been stretched around it all day long. I wanted you to have something no one has had before. It’s all yours,” you say, wiggling your hips to show off your toy.

“You are such a good girl for wearing it all day,” he murmurs, taking the lube that was delicately placed on the bed earlier by you. Dripping the liquid between your cheeks, he spreads it generously around your plump globes. He lays a few slaps to each cheek and moves some of the lube between your cheeks to tease the toy in and out of you slightly.

“Daddy, please,” you beg, growing ever so impatient now that Steve is teasing you.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Sweets. Let’s just get this pretty plug out of here,” he purrs, pulling out the toy and watching as your hole tightens up a bit. He uses one finger to explore you, graduating to two and three fingers when you take him in so well. Soon, the wet squelch of lube as he fingers you is the loudest sound in the room, even over your moans. 

With three fingers inside you, Steve uses the other hand to unzip his pants. Pulling out his red, weeping dick, he squeezes the base and coats it in the excess lube that has accumulated. Lining up to your opening, he pushes in slowly until you engulf his tip. The hard part is over as he slides into the hilt.

He waits until you start to wriggle under his hands to begin a languid pace, slow as molasses in January. Your hand snakes down to your forgotten pussy, shiny and slick with a mixture of your arousal and lubricant. Your fingers stimulate your clit as Steve takes you apart from the inside.

You’ve never felt so fully taken before, the stretch of his massive member adding to the sacred friction. As soon as your fingers take you over the edge, you notice how intense this orgasm is. You moan into the bedsheets as your cunt shudders and your asshole clamps down around Steve.

“Fuuuuuck, good girl. That felt so fucking good, Sweets. Don’t think I can last much longer with you coming so hard on my dick like that,” he ponders aloud, quickening his pace to chase his release.

As he pounds into you from behind, he reaches around to finger your pussy while his palm rubs your sweet spot. When he can sense you getting closer and closer to the edge, he pulls his fingers from inside you and plays with your clit.

“Be my good girl and cum with me, Sweets. Fuck, I can feel it right now. You ready for it baby?” he persuades, fucking into you while you moan non-stop. 

“Yes, please. I’m ready for your cum, Daddy,” you cry out, your climax pulling you over the edge, tumbling straight into Steve’s release. You can feel every spurt of spunk painting your delicate inner walls while he throbs inside you.

Coming down, he lets his deflating length slip out and directs you to lie down before climbing on the bed next to you. Wrapping you up in his arms, he kisses your forehead and isn’t surprised when he soon hears the soft snores escaping you.

He’s more than content to wait to give you his gift. He smiles, remembering the velvet box in his suit jacket pocket in the other room. He can wait a bit longer to hear you say yes.

A/N: Alright, well, I haven’t written for Steve Rogers in over 12 years. I hope this was good. I would love to hear what y’all think. The title is taken from ‘Rocket’ by Beyoncé.

**Tag List**

@ronearoundblindly

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[heartofmortis]

✧ the night we met

. *. ⋆ Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

summary: you confront anakin on mustafar

warnings: angst, no y/n

note: thank you so much for the love on my first fic!! here's a gift 🫶

word count: 489

Sword in hand, you are ready for battle. The glow of your lightsaber is calming against the odds. Heat prickles your skin as lava bubbles around the two of you. (You search Anakin’s eyes for the crystalline blue you have loved for so long.)

Mustafar is a horrid place. You feel the claws of the dark side attempt to cling to your sandy robes. Your resolve is strong. You will never embrace the darkness. (But your knees still try to buckle when Anakin sets his amber gaze on you. And the flutter in your stomach will not leave.)

"Come with me," pleads the Sith apprentice masquerading as your lover. "We can be free now."

"Anakin." His name scratches your throat, the hot air drying your voice. You want to scream at him to undo what he has done — but it is done. The Jedi are gone, the war is over. "I can’t."

A spark of anger in Anakin’s frame sends chills down your spine. Against the raging fire, you did not think the dark side would also feel cold. Suddenly, his eyes are soft and you want to run to him — safe in each other's arms. "Don’t you leave me too."

Your heart aches, the weight (the fate) of the galaxy pushes you low. This is the cost of love. This is what the Jedi warned you about. There is a fine line between compassion and attachment — you and Anakin had crossed it without hesitation. There was such beauty in your love for each other. Could you really give it up now?

I am a Jedi, you whisper in your head again and again until it forms a mantra. You are a Jedi. To be a Jedi is to love and let go.

(How did we get here? You wonder, heart aflame.)

You and Anakin stand in a forest clearing. A clear sky of moon and stars above you. Night birds sing and luminescent bugs drift like stars themselves through tree branches.

Hearts in hand, you vow to each other: never to stray, never to forget. Together in life and death.

You dance and whisper under the stars, hands clasped tightly for the universe to see. Until the sun rises, it is just you two Jedi risking everything for each other. In the twilight of war, how could you know your love would destroy everything you hold dear?

You first met on a night like this: a cloudless sky, lost beneath woodland. (Mustafar once had forests too. Nothing lives forever.)

Too many have died for you to walk away (with or without Anakin). You stand between a Sith and oblivion. While you draw breath, no more Jedi will fall by Anakin’s hand.

The glow of your lightsaber is calming, a righteous voice to push you in the right direction by the Force’s will. Sword in hand, you are ready for battle. (One or both of you must die tonight.)

[kurishiri]

n.1 . . . “ the betraying hunter is tempted by the death god ”

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit of joking centered around drugs; if i took a shot every time victor’s eyes were compared to jewels, i don’t know how many shots it would be, but it would probably not be healthy /lh

Victor: Good evening to you. The full moon tonight is quite beautiful, isn’t it.

Roger: Yeah, to an almost irritating degree.

Though I didn’t have much of an eye for appearances, even I could tell this person’s face possessed a striking beauty. And collapsed at his feet,

was the criminal in euphoria as he died.

(There’s no stab wound or any sign of physical trauma. And yet… he’s dead?)

I was curious about the cause of death as a former doctor, but there were more pressing matters right now.

Roger: Would you happen to be the head of ‘Crown,’ which consists solely of Cursed ones?

Victor: Indeed, that is me.

The man flashed me a smile, and in a single blink of the eye—

Roger: …!

The distance between us closed, and he poked my nose with his fingertips.

Victor: Now, I have answered one of your questions. So, would it be fair to ask the same of you?

V: Entry is forbidden in this area even by the police…

V: …which you don’t appear to be one anyway. On top of that, you are not a member of Crown either, so what brings you here?

Those jewel-like eyes seemed to make the heart waver, and they seemed as though they could see completely through me.

(Well, not that I had any intention of faking it ‘til I make it in the first place.)

Roger: See, my dad’s a doctor. So I bring the deceased who have faced strange or inexplicable deaths back for an autopsy.

Victor: That is to say then that you come around when you hear any information on incidents happening out on the streets?

Roger: Yeah, that’s right. That said, I don’t actually have permission to step foot in here, unfortunately.

R: Getting permission would take too much time. I jumped over the fence back there.

Victor: ……… [surprised]

V: Haha, how nice, there’s nothing I like more than naughty boys.

The moment the air around us lightened up, I found the gap between my emotions close.

Roger: There’s a man named Alfons in there, right? He joined Crown a year ago.

R: He and I go back a long way, so that’s how I know of Crown’s existence.

Victor: Crown’s existence should be kept confidential, that Alfons…

Roger: No, he didn’t leak any information about Crown to me.

R: But I can hear sounds from up to a hundred yards away. Because I also hold an unnatural ability as one of the Cursed.

Victor: Hmm…

Roger: Will you let me join Crown? I’m sure I’ll be of use to you in some way.

In order to find a way to rid the world of Curses, I would like to have even just one more sample of a Cursed one.

As such, Crown — an organization consisting solely of Cursed ones — was the ideal place for me to be.

Victor: Crown is a place where the scent of death will follow you where you go. Surely not somewhere you’d choose to go to of your own volition.

Those jewel-like eyes questioned me: ‘And yet, why?’

(Best to keep things simple here.)

Roger: I’ve had a personal interest in Curses, so I’m researching them. You can call it the nature of a former doctor.

Victor: I see. Well then, this is the prime opportunity.

V: I’m sure the choice between taking another ally or having them die upon knowing the existence of Crown is an obvious one.

All he did was say those words with a smile on his face, and yet I felt the night air grow cold.

Victor: Seeing as you have the resolve, I feel you’re well suited for Crown. So, I look forward to working with you, Roger.

He held out his own hand, but all I could do was stare back at it.

Roger: …I’m pretty sure I haven’t given you my name, have I?

Those eyes that seemed to hold jewels simply smiled at me in silence.

The moment I took his hand, it felt deep and dark——the fragrance of night that told me there was no going back, that is.

When I safely joined Crown, my first step was to devise a plan to make a medical record for Victor.

But…

Roger: Victor, do you have time for an exami—

Victor: Ahh, Roger! I managed to get some valuable beer, so how about we have a drink together?

Roger: Beer? Dammit… I know you’re playing dirty.

—— Time skip ——

Roger: Victor, today’s the day you promised I could exami—

William: If you’re looking for Victor, he is currently abroad on orders from Her Majesty. He will return in three days time.

Maybe it was simply the nature of a hunter to have a strengthening desire to chase after those that played hard to catch.

Then, I found my biggest chance — Victor was accompanying someone from America who was a heavy drinker,

and rumors spread that he was intoxicated at the castle.

I approached a certain someone who was sitting with his eyes closed——but.

Victor: If you’re going to jump on someone in their sleep, you should at least spike something with a sleeping drug first, Roger.

His eyes, gleaming like jewels, suddenly opened.

Roger: So you are strong to liquor, aren’t you. ‘Cause if that’s the case, one sleeping drug wouldn’t cut it.

Victor: Oh my, I see you’ve finally managed to find out something about me.

Crown was practically a hub for some strange people, but this person’s enigma seemed to know no bounds.

Roger: Victor. Just what are you?

Victor: Perhaps I may be cursed, but on the other hand, I may also not be.

Roger: What’s that supposed to mean? You were the one who said Crown consisted only of Cursed ones, right?

Victor: Oh, but never once did I say that I was Cursed.

Roger: .........

R: ...You sneaky bastard.

(It’s not as though I’ve given up on finding out more about Victor.)

(But, I also feel it just can’t be helped that I only know so much. Because——)

I felt that he was bearing a darkness alone, one more deep than any of us could imagine.

Roger: ...Well, guess I should let it go as long as I can collect research funds. For now, at least.

I turned to the next medical record.

Roger: Elbert Greetia. Bearer of the Greedy Queen’s Curse.

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[yurislotusgarden]

Hi there! How are you? Can I please request number 11 for the event with Dazai, Kunikida, and Fyodor? I'm a sucker for giving hand kisses, honestly XD. Gn or female reader, I don't mind.

ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ The event

ʚїɞ word count: just over 1k

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, reader’s gender is not specified in any way, they both are lowkey whipped <33, This is my fav work so far ngl

ʚїɞ I'm very well these days, thank you for asking! I do not write for Kunikida, sorry anon! Hope you don't mind it too much!

ʚїɞ Does it all the time, at every opportunity

ʚїɞ You think you would get used to it, and you probably would stop getting that red hue on your cheeks if he didn’t keep eye contact with you while doing it

ʚїɞ Ya know the way one would bow to kiss a lady’s hand as a greeting in the past?

ʚїɞ Yeah he does that

ʚїɞ There's no place on your hands that hasn't been kissed by this man

////////////////

The sun was slowly going down, the orange hue falling over the water, giving it a beautiful glow.

Two figures could be seen taking a walk along the water line, green bushes and trees dimmed in color upon being caught in the sun's rays, surroundings pleasantly bare of other people.

Dazai Osamu, one of the two figures mentioned before, thought that he had seen everything and that no view could cause shock or any other bigger emotion to go throughout his body or mind, and yet, he's standing still, planted in one place, the view of his beloved s/o, the love of his life, painted in the orange-yellow glow of the setting sun, taking his breath away.

Sometimes he wonders, how did he get so lucky? Because he had to do something in his past life to deserve all this. There’s no way he just got lucky for no reason, it’s not possible, not for him.

“You alright, Samu?”

A simple question said in a gentle voice, was enough to snap the man out of the daze he was in. He was so in his thoughts that he didn't even register you looking over at him.

“Yeah… Yeah, I am, love. Sorry for that.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, don’t worry. We all get lost in our thoughts sometimes.”

Oh… Dazai swears that if he were to die right now, even if in the most painful way imaginable, it would still be a happy death.

He cannot comprehend your care. For other people, objects, opinions, all sorts of things… and him. He will never understand how can you care for him out of all people. Past him would argue that he simply doesn’t deserve it, and present him can’t fully disagree but… if you decided he deserves it, or needs it, as you once said, he will take it all. His heart never would, still can’t, and never will be able to stand the precious love that comes from you.

Dazai was aware you were about to speak, but he still went with what he wished to do. A hand gently touched yours, grasping it softly before bringing it up a little, effectively stopping you from speaking.

Once he brought your hand up enough, around the height of his hips, he could be seen leaning down, seemingly bowing before placing a gentle kiss upon your knuckles while keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

If there’s one thing he could promise to never get tired of, it would definitely be the light red hue blossoming upon your cheeks every time.

ʚїɞ Does it as an actual greeting

ʚїɞ He woke up and said "Let's be an asshole to everyone but the love of my life, Let's be a gentleman to them instead"

ʚїɞ He ALWAYS goes for the knuckles

ʚїɞ He bows on occasions, but most of the time he raises your hand up to his lips to place a gentle kiss, usually as a hello or goodbye

////////////////

The moon shined brightly tonight, giving everything that met the gentle glow a serene silver look.

Serenity. Something Fyodor doesn't have unless he finds himself inside the four walls of his home. Something he always, with no fail, finds near you. You, the figure he's been looking at for the previous half a minute.

The dark-haired man was planning on leaving the house quietly, with little to no sound to ensure that his beloved wouldn't wake, yet there you were. Glowing under the moonlight shining through the window not too far away from your person like a fairy, like an angel that decided to bless him with their presence. 'Like the moon is calling out to them' he thought.

“So? Will you answer my question, Fedya?”

A quiet, gentle voice snapped Fyodor out of the trance he found himself in. He always does it whenever you both are awake at such ungodly hours, doesn’t he?

“Yeah. Just have to go look through something, won’t take too long, myshka.”

And he can’t help it. The way you look under the moonlight will always take the air out of his lungs for a short minute. The way it makes your hair shine gently, the way your figure fits into the grey shades around you, the way it makes your eyes look so serene.

A sigh came from your direction before you spoke up. “Just come back safe, please.”

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you and your care. He’s aware of that fact. Fyodor was aware of what he did for his plans, and that someone else who would do something like he does, wouldn’t most likely get such care from someone so delicate.

It doesn’t matter how you look, because in his eyes you’re like a fragile doll, something that could be broken if not looked after properly. The dark-haired man doesn’t know how he got your heart, but he guessed he had to get simply lucky. Fyodor didn’t manipulate you, even if it was in his plans, had you happened to not fall for him through his advances, but you did. It was all you.

“You know I will.”

A promise he swore to keep. After all, in his eyes there had to be someone to protect you. His figure could be seen walking up to you in a calm manner before he slowly stuck out his hand towards you, a sign for you to give him your hand yourself. You did so. It would be a crime if he said he never noticed how your eyes always seem to soften up at his gesture.

Fyodor could’ve been seen raising your hand up to his lips, before planting a gentle goodbye kiss upon your knuckles.

Serenity. A word foreign to Fyodor before you came into his life, but he couldn’t have been more grateful for that.

Notes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[day-drawn-blog]

Part V: I feel your heart beat in my soul, our futures bound, our bodies known. - I want to live

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

This is part 5. The rest are linked below.

Tags: angst, fluff, eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part IV: There is more to do and I still want to live

Part VI: These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII: Your blood like wine, I wanted in.

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

_____

The day after, you all wandered through the mountain road. You were feeling better. Halsin had ensured you were healing. So did Shadowheart. Laezel looked at you with pride in her eyes. You walked slower than the others. Supported by karlach sometimes. Sometimes Shadowheart. Sometimes carried by karlach. 

Astarion would turn to look at you every now and then. You would look away if he did. It made you blush. 

Did he really tell you those things?

You wanted to talk to him about last night. But there had been no opportunity yet. Everyone was wary. Everyone was tired. everyone was covered in dust and blood. Yesterday had taken a lot out of all of you. You all prayed for a safe journey and looked forward to setting camp. It felt like you had been walking for an eternity. 

So when you found a place at sunset next to a pool of water, everyone was collectively overjoyed. Not only could you all rest, you could all finally feel clean. Karlach and Wyll volunteered to clean everyone's clothes, you were all very grateful. Karlach said she he can dry them real fast. You were curious.

You were looking forward to getting into water.

At nightfall. Laezel dragged you to the pool. Halsin was already there. Everyone had stripped down to minimum inner wear. So you did too. Embarrassing at first but quickly you went in and all was okay. Laezel was very close to you. Lately she has been. It was both flattering and intimidating. But you didn't mind. You liked being liked. Maybe everyone was warming up to you. You enjoyed the feeling. 

Shadowheart appeared with Astarion. 

She was always beautiful. She looked like a goddess right now. Her long dark hair emphasized by her pale bare skin even more. Her body was immaculate. So was yours, you knew. You were all warriors after all. But something about being wanted, made her more attractive you thought. She was confident. She did not yearn. She had it.

Astarion got into the water as well. 

He went to the other side - a little away from you. To join Halsin. Gale joined them too. Shadowheart came next to you and La'ezhel and smiled. "I'm slightly afraid of water. Did you know". Her voice was so melodious. You thought. No wonder she is loved so much.

"Then shouldn't you not be here. I mean, what if you drowned?" Laezel joked or maybe not. You could never tell. "Oh come now. Waist deep water doesn't scare me". Everyone chuckled at the banter. 

You stole a glance at Astarion. 

He was looking at her, smiling, as if proud that she got in the water. Your mistake. What did you expect. Just like any of the other countless times. The only difference was that shadowheart was on your side of the party. She had her arms around you. Maybe they all, got worried yesterday. You appreciated the loving gesture. You felt included and wanted. 

You decided to be kind to her too. 

You would not take away, that which belonged to her. That would be cruel. She was your friend. And ally. And like the others on this journey to salvation, needed your help too. And so you would not turn your back to her. No matter how much it hurt. And it did. It hurt just thinking about it. Familiar pangs. Sharp. Cutting. 

You didn't realize how sad you looked right then. But Astarion did. And he frowned. 

Soon after, among the chatter, you decided it was time to leave. You needed rest. Your aching body was catching up. You expressed that, and got up to leave. Halsin called you out. "let me put the medicine on your wounds before you sleep. Let's get Karlach." You turned to look at him and noticed Astarion looking at you. What was that stare? It was not nonchalant. Searching... fixating.

Odd. 

You suddenly felt acutely aware of how little you were wearing. You felt really vulnerable, and you hurried away. To get Karlach. 

Back in your tent, after Halsin and Karlach had gone, you were finally able to take off your wet clothes. You decided it was a warm enough night to sleep with no clothes under the covers. So you did. 

No one in camp went in anyone's tents without knocking first so you were certain you could get away with such wanton abandon for one night. You could still feel the tingling from the cool waters. You were almost asleep. 

"I got your dry clothes karlach sent" 

Astarion came traipsing in carrying warm dry clothes that karlach had tasked him to take to you. You jolted up. You grabbed the covers and clutched them hard around you. How could you forget?! This guy comes and goes to your tent as he pleases. And that's your own doing! 

"Could - could you give me a moment!!"

He stopped, stared, shocked, blushed and turned around. "Oh yes! Terribly sorry! My apologies. That was very impolite of me" he stood with his back to you "where do you want these?" You gestured to next to him, he placed them down still looking away. You pulled the covers all around. 

"My apologies, again. I will see you later".

"Wait" 

"Hmm?"

"Last night... You said .... " 

He turned to look you in your eyes. Very solemn. You couldn't understand his piercing unwavering gaze. 

"I will.... I promise" 

"Are you really... That grateful to me ...?" 

"More than grateful." His voice was low. 

"You don't need to be. I... don't expect anything in return. I do it because I want to help, you. Everyone". 

"And I want is to repay your kindness." 

You looked down. And smiled a little. It was just that. You helped him. He returned the favor. It was sweet. You should be happy with this. Very happy. This is what you wanted after all. To be needed. To save someone. To help. 

There was silence. 

He approached. "How do you feel, today?" And he took your hand in both of his and kissed it. The way he usually does. A reminder. Of your unspoken contract. You thought. 

"Almost as good as new". 

He was waiting. You knew. You sat down. To get comfortable. He sat in front at the foot of your bed. He kissed your hand again as if he was impatient. Then he kissed the palm of your hand and looked at you. Straight in your eyes, with his lips on your palm. He will not wait anymore you thought. His stare was somewhat threatening. Or maybe you were timid. When he was concerned. 

You decided to tease him. 

You said nothing. He kissed a fingertip of yours and you bit your lip. Enough. You could feel yourself tense up. Down there. Throbbing and pulsating. Curse him. He is truly the devil. But you persevered. You wanted to test yourself. 

When it failed to get the permission he wanted, he decided to make a move. 

He leaned forward and moved closer to you. You were so startled you fell backwards. Down on your bed, propped up by your elbows. He put one arm next to your head and pinned you down while looking down at you. You stared at his beautiful face, blankly.

What is happening?

"You know", he smiled, seductively, "if you keep teasing me like this, I might want.... more ...". He said the last word very softly. But it rang through your body. You felt a pulsation. Another throb. You stared at him in your shock and surprise. Unsure what to do. This was not your plan. Who is this man.

Is this what he does to Shadowheart at night? 

"More?!" Your desire to play the game had heightened. 

He smiled again - a beautiful smile, charming and happy. 

"Why yes, darling. I'm talking about that lovely neck of yours, of course". 

What?! 

All this time, all he wanted...was to bite your neck?! Your neck.... His lips would be ....to your neck...you would feel...his face, next to yours.... It was very... frighteningly.....tempting....

What happened to your aversion of being bit in the neck? Why do you crave it now? What has this man done to you? Robbed you of yourself and your reason it seems. 

You stared at him in disbelief. 

"May I"? 

"I promise to be gentle. I promise....it will feel good." 

For you!!! You thought. What?!

But you were losing yourself in the honey from his words. He is too close. Breathing on you. You could smell him. Feel him. He was slowly getting closer and and closer. You may be getting used, but perhaps you may get something out of this after all! You bargained.

The opportunity to touch him. 

You could touch his hair, his face, maybe even his back.... You felt lust overtake every part of your body as you closed your eyes and looked away, exposing your lovely neck to him. Praying he wouldn't hurt you. 

He lowered himself. One leg between yours. His face fit closer to yours. And you felt his warm breath on your skin. The anticipation was painful. He touched your skin with his lips. You sucked in air and gasped. He kissed your neck lightly like he would your hand. Shivers ran down you. Was this really happening? Your pulse quickened. You were throbbing.

He kissed it a few more times. Soft, gentle, as if savoring it. You bit your lips to stop yourselves from moaning. Why is he doing this? You clutched the bed and the covers tight. You had stopped breathing.

Then he gently pierced his fangs in you. Very slowly. And settled in. You moaned. You knew it no longer matted - he would not notice anymore. Bliss. Because you could now let go of the covers. You grabbed him with both hands. Clutching the shirt on his back.

Fair exchange. You thought.

As he drained you, you let you several breathy quiet moans. And you arched your back. You so wished to be touched. But you knew, he was not making love to you. 

You lifted your leg at one point. And realized, as it grazed him. He was, very hard. He was a man after all, and this was very intimate. Or maybe, feeding made him so happy. You didn't care... your brain was fuzzy. It was pleasurable. You couldn't believe that it was him you were sharing such a pleasure with. You wished this would last a bit though not much because you did love your body. 

Eventually you tugged his hair sharply. And he finally stopped. He let out a sharp gasp of air. Then proceeded to lick the wound. Like he always did. It was not helping. Several times, your throbbing self, your leg brushed past he hard self. It only made you want him more. You tugged at his shirt with both your hands now. He kept kissing. 

His kisses got wetter, louder, till he was obviously just a man savoring his lover and no longer a vampire savoring his prey. He kissed and licked under your ears. Then kissed your ears. Too much. Too close. His face was too close. He kissed your cheek. And licked it once.

Stop. What are you doing. 

But he didn't. He held your face and licked the other side. Kissed your other cheek. It was as if he was so euphoric he had lost control. You moaned louder and louder. Stop. You begged him mentally.

But also, not to.

He continued to kiss your other neck, and ear, down to your collarbone now. And came back up to your chin. Your head was tilted all the way back. You dared not open your eyes lest you lose control too. You were in his complete embrace at this point.

But then, he finally did stop. 

He paused and looked at you. Searching for something in your eyes. You looked at him then his lips. Then his eyes again. He was so close. His nose was almost touching yours. You must be going crazy. You didn't want him to leave yet. And he was right there. You had to. You just did. 

You reached up and kissed him. 

Surprised at first, he kissed you back. Hard. Your head was back in the pillow. He took charge. Moved your hands away and dragged your cover away. Your nipples were probably very hard and visible you thought.

He paused. As if something had just brought him back to reality. He then looked at you. your uncovered half, your nipples. He looked at your naked half body for a second. Then sat back up. Covered his face in his hands for a few moments. Then he got up and ran out. 

Part VI: These ain't my sins, I broke my chains