#there's.... so much more I could go on and on and on about this piece and the whole zine process

[monstersflashlight]

Hello! I love your work and I admit it's really fun to read! Besides the spicy parts I love it has a story! Speaking of a story, I really liked your reblog about the plant(venus?) and the girl with short hair and I was wondering if you could tell us their story? Spiciness included ❤️

Not sure if you wanna hear my ideas about it but I'll just mention that smell is a powerful weapon and once the bud closes, the plant won't let you go easily without showing you the ultimate gratitude for your planter skills in the arboretum (I hope that's the right word for tree crown center area. Or plant center if trees are off the options)

Hi there! Thank you so much, means a lot! <3 For everyone wondering, she means this art piece.

Plant-trapped

Plant-monster x witch fem!reader || sex pollen, smell kink (?), tentacles (vines)

You had what witches called green aura, but humans simply referred to green thumb. You had your way with plants and that’s why you were the one in charge of taking care of the coven’s botanic garden. You loved your job there, you spent most of the time alone, surrounded by plants, and you could just enjoy the quiet and the nice smell of all the flowers. It was amazing.

But sometimes you forgot not all plants in the garden were harmless. Not all of them were non-sentient… Some of them had a bit of a thing for witches like yourself…

And you fell right into its trap.

You thought you knew everything you needed to know about the plant and its properties, but at that moment, you couldn’t remember any of it. You couldn’t remember how to get out, what did it take to get it to release you. It was like your brain turned into a white space and you couldn’t remember your own name.

You leaned in to smell its intoxicating smell and that’s how it got you. And the smell only became more and more mind blowing the longer you breathed it in. Your brain was fuzzy and your body became hotter and hotter, your insides trembling as your pussy started to tingle. You groaned as the big monstrous petals closed around your body like an embrace. And when the vines reached your body, you didn’t even care.

Your clothes disappeared with the secretions of the monster-plant, destroying the fibers and leaving an oily feel on your skin that only amplified the overstimulation of your senses. You couldn’t smell anything that wasn’t the monster. You couldn’t touch anything that wasn’t part of its body and its vines were caressing and touching every part of you accessible. You were groaning and moaning, your body pliant under its ministrations as your juices ran down your legs.

It was intoxicating and exciting, and when the first vine probed your hole, you cried out in pleasure when the most intense wave of desire ran through your body. You were drenched in your own juices, but the monster-plant added some of its salve to lubricate you further, making you slippery as the vine entered your dripping cunt. You moaned, and you felt like something broke inside your brain, like a dam was destroyed.

“Such a good witch,” a voice spoke right inside your brain.

Deep down you knew the plant talking to you was unlikely, but at that moment you couldn’t figure out if it was real or just part of the illusion created by the sex pollen. But you didn’t care. You only cared about the vines groping your body and the ones inside of you, touching and reaching parts you didn’t know could even feel that good.

It fucked in and out of you, the vines latching to your G-spot like suckers as little tentacle-like vines rubbed your thighs and clit. It was like the best enchanted sex toy you ever tried, and it was driving you insane with pleasure. You cried and moaned, you screamed and groaned… It was ecstasy in its purest form, and you couldn’t form coherent thoughts outside more.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, and your eyes were blinded for half a second, the pleasure so bright and high you couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t feel anything apart from the brain melting pleasure running down your body as the plant took all you had and some more.

“You did good, little witch. Your offering was accepted,” the voice inside your head said as the monster-plant released your body to the ground, completely sated.

[loverslodge]

my bidder

summery: your parents have treated you like a show piece which Bucky hated. but what crossed the limit was when your parents hold you up for an auction without telling you.

pairing: dbf!bucky barnes x sub!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT, some plot but mostly smut, auctioning off a person, loss of virginity, panic attack mention, isolation mentioned, age gap (bucky is in his late 30s and reader is late 20s), use of nicknames (princess and baby), dom!bucky but no BDSM (because i don't know how to write it)

A/N: i love me some dad's best friend and especially Bucky. and seeing him in suit in thunderbolts is sending shivers down my spine.

James Buchanan Barnes was a bad man.

At least that's what he thought every time he saw you.

You were all he could think about every time your father was present in the room. Mostly because your father won't stop talking about you.

Your father had a tendency to show you off for his benefit and it irked Bucky greatly. You weren't something to be put in a glass jar but your father did just that. Your mom was no less. She too supported her husband on every decision he made about you and your life.

Bucky had seen you become trapped in your room because everything got too overwhelming. You had turned from a shy kid to a wallflower. That made Bucky overly protective of you. Every time your parents paraded you and your achievements around, Bucky would always cling on to you, trying to comfort you from a distance.

It was just another big party in the y/l/n household. You were forced to dress in white satin gown and were adorned with pearls. They had made you look like a virgin doll. They had their reasons for that, of course, but they hadn't told you anything about it. It's not like this was the first time you were being pushed into the unknown.

The room started to fill up and you started to notice that the room was filled with male guests. Occasional female guests but they all looked like escorts.

You shuddered with a bad feeling and slowly stepped in the shadows. A small yelp left your lips as you crashed into someone. Before you could scramble up and leave, you felt a metal hand steady your very open back.

“Bucky?”

“Hey, princess. You hiding again?” He chuckled at your jumpiness when someone walked too close. He pulled you closer. This was wrong. So wrong but you felt so right in his arms.

“Something doesn't feel right about tonight. I'm way too dressed up for this.” You always felt comfortable in Bucky’s arms but you never said anything. Why? Because you weren't allowed to think or say anything on your own.

Bucky was looking gorgeous in his black tux. His hair was slicked back and he smelled devine. His eyes held the same softness you had become used to over the few years. But you shouldn't think about this. It was wrong. He was your father’s best friend. You shouldn't let your mind take his kindness as something more.

“You look beautiful, princess.”

That nickname. He gave that to you when you met him the first day. You were dressed in your pink pjs and your hair was tied in a loose braid. You were about to go to bed but went down to the kitchen to get some water.

He was nursing a drink when you came across him. He figured you were the daughter and you knew he was the new friend your father had made. He got up from his seat and walked closer to you to introduce himself. He looked so much larger than you. To him you looked adorable and innocent, but locked up in a house. Since that day, he had been calling you ‘princess’ because your cheeks always tinted pink when he did.

“You look beautiful too, Bucky.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear you.

“Why do you look more panicked than usual, princess? Did someone say something to you?” He brought his flesh hand and stroked your back gently to calm you.

“No. That's the thing. Nobody is telling me anything. I don't know what today is about. And there are so many male guests. It's making me uncomfortable.”

“Wait, so you have absolutely no idea how today’s fundraiser is going to go?” Bucky’s eyebrows scrunched in concern. Something was definitely not right now.

You shook your head and looked at Bucky to give you answers. Your innocent eyes were calling to him but before he could tell you what's going on, your mother’s voice rang on the mic and your name was called.

Bucky reluctantly saw you walk away and you kept on glancing back at him. His eyes were filled with worry and you knew something wrong was going to happen.

Bucky sat down at his table near the stage where the auction was about to begin. He thought about why you weren't told about this but he wanted his thoughts to be proven wrong. Surely your parents weren't that power hungry.

All the women you had noticed were called on stage one by one and were being auctioned off. Your heart racing off the charts and you kept on glancing at Bucky from behind the curtains. He hadn't put in a price at any of them. You were relieved by that but terrified about you being put beside all these women.

Soon all the women in front of you were auctioned off.

“And now, a very special someone. She carries all of my pride with her.” Your father began your introduction and you smoothened your dress, trying to look brave.

Bucky felt like he was staring at the devil. How could your own father auction you off to all these sleazy men out here? His biggest fear of tonight was coming to light. He had been meaning to save you from this prison for a while and your father had just given him the reason to drag you away, even if it cost him a few hundred thousand bucks.

“Please welcome my daughter, Y/N! Her bidding starts at…”

You were now standing in front of all these… eyes. You felt cheap. You felt like a whore. Your parents had officially become vultures to you. Tears were streaming down your face as you stood on the stage. Nobody cared about that.

Because the spotlight was on you, you couldn't see who was bidding on you. But as the numbers went higher, the cheaper you felt. Till everything came to a standstill and you saw someone walk up to the stage.

“Come on, baby. Let's get going.” Bucky’s voice tore through the hooting and booing of the crowd.

You gasped in shock but you walked to him anyway. At least he made you feel safer. He wrapped one hand around your waist and the other around your legs and lifted you like a sack on his shoulder.

You refused to meet your parents’ eyes as you were carried out of the room where another round of hooting erupted.

Bucky walked straight to your room, not bothering to stop anywhere else. When you both reached the door to your room, he slowly lowered you down. You were a crying mess but at least now you were safe.

“Come on, princess. Let's go in.” Bucky nudged your back a little.

“B-b-but that's my room.” You cowered.

“Princess, listen. If you open your door and invite me in, only then will I step into your safe space. Also, I cannot talk about anything out here. There are ears everywhere.” He caressed your hair to calm you down. He brought out his handkerchief and cleaned your face a little to make you feel more calm.

You nodded and opened the door to your room and stepped in with Bucky in tow. As soon as you stepped in the room, he closed the door shut. You panicked. Was he going to do something? This is not how you pictured to spend time with the man you had fallen in love with.

“Princess, don't worry. I didn't close, just shut the door for a little privacy. Now, pack your bags. I'm taking you home with me.”

“Wh-what?”

You were shocked by his revelation. Anywhere would be better than here with your parents but you were not ready, were you? You really were a princess and anywhere else felt… scary.

“I'm not letting you stay here a minute longer. Showing off your achievements was different but auctioning you off is fucked up.” Bucky dragged out your big suitcase and started stuffing all your comfy clothes in it.

“Bucky, wait, stop! What are you doing?” You hold his hand and pull him to face you.

“I am getting you out of here. Did you know what was going on down there? Teh auction? It wasn't just for the money. Those were… i cant believe your father… he was selling you off to the highest bidder. You would have been ruined by now! You weren't going to be returned if someone else had taken you!”

Bucky closed your suitcase after emptying more than half of your room. He was frustrated. He ran his hand on his hair and started dragging your suitcase out of the room.

“Wait, Bucky! We can’t- you can't just take me with you! That's- you're my father’s best friend.”

“I can.” He holds your jaw in his hand, softly but with authority. “I paid for you, princess. This is my one and only way of saving you from all of this.”

“Why do you want to save me, Bucky?” Your voice faltered. Your face was very close to his.

“Because, my dear Princess, you belong to me now. I've had my sights on you for a really long time and now I get to have you the way I want.” Bucky pecked your lips and held your hand to pull you to his car that was parked right outside the door.

………………………..

You stepped in the Barnes Manor and looked at the grandeur of everything around you. You didn't expect Bucky to be so… materialistic.

“Not everything is mine. My ex wife was way too much into these things. Been trying to get rid of things but i don't know how or where to start.” Bucky looked at you as if he could read your thoughts.

He asked you to follow him and he took you to an empty room. It looked like an empty canvas. Bucky’s men dropped off your bags in the room and left, closing the door behind them.

“Umm… Bucky… How will you have me?” Your whispered voice bounced against the room walls, making Bucky take a sharp turn at you.

“What?” He was flabbergasted.

“Well, you, uh, paid for me. So, you get to have me, right? That's what the auction was about?” You were fidgeting, looking down at your shoes.

“Is that what you think?” Bucky walked closer to you. “That I brought you here to have my way with you?” Bucky cupped your face and made you look up. “Princess, I brought you here because I am not letting someone else have you, not because I want you.”

“So… you don't want me?” Seeing him this close was bringing back those burning desires you have always felt for him.

Seeing your pout and hearing your question, stirred the buried desire in Bucky back to life. If he could, he would've taken you right there in your bedroom but he held on to the one thread of decency.

“Don't say it like that, princess.” There was barely any space between yours and his lips. “I want you so bad, baby, but it's wrong. You're my best friend’s daughter.”

Your eyes fall on his lips, refusing to waver. “You're right. This is very wrong.” You curled your fist around his blazer pulling him slightly closer.

“Princess…” Bucky warned you.

“Yes, sir?” The designation just slipped out.

Bucky lost all his control. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips on yours. His tongue slipped in your mouth as you moaned in the kiss. Your hand snaked around his neck and forced his face closer to yours. You bit his lower lip that made him groan.

He walked forward without breaking the kiss till you both hit the edge of the bed. He pushed you on the bed gently and hovered over you, taking your lips back on his. He kept on pushing you back till you were in the middle of the bed, all tangled up in him.

His lips moved on every inch of your face, kissing and then moved down to your neck, making you moan louder. He nipped at your skin and kissed down your valley before moving back up to your lips.

“Please, sir.” You were begging so prettily. With perfectly swollen lips and dazed eyes, you looked every way ready to be fucked.

“Princess, are you sure? This is your first time.” Bucky caressed your cheeks.

“Yes, sir. Have me. I'm ready. Please fuck me. Please.” You fumbled with Bucky’s shirt buttons.

“Ok ok.” Bucky chuckled, looking at your impatience. “We've got to get you out of that beautiful dress first and then we will remove my suit, okay? And then if you still feel ready, i will fuck you.”

You scrambled up to your feet and tried to find the zipper of the dress to take it off, without trying to tear it. You pouted at Bucky who was looking at your struggle with an amused face.

“Alright. Let me help you. You'll be patient, yes?”

You nodded enthusiastically and stood still like the good girl you want to be for him. He moved you around and zipped down your dress and gently, it fell down at your foot, leaving you exposed. All you were wearing was white underwear since there was no way you could've been able to wear a bra in that dress.

“Wow, princess, you are even more gorgeous than I had imagined.” Bucky gently cupped your boobs and thumbs your nipples, making you push yourself on to him.

“You, you imagined me?” You look at him with wide eyes. You had never expected the man of your dreams doing the same thing you've been doing.

“Of course, baby. Why do you think it was so easy for you to let me kiss you?” Bucky started unbuttoning his shirt. Soon, he was standing in front of you, very, very naked.

You had wanted to cover yourself up but you were so distracted by him, his hands and then his large cock that until he held your hand and guided you back to bed, you were unaware about everything else.

“So, one last time, do you want to go to sleep or do you still want to continue?”

Bucky was ready to pull on the comforter and go to sleep naked beside you. He could relieve himself in the bathroom. He didn't want to put any pressure on you.

“Please, sir. Fuck me.”

Bucky wasted no time in tearing away your underwear and situating himself in between your legs.

“Now, I'm going to have to open you up for me. You still have a chance to say no. After I'm done using my fingers on you, if you feel you've had enough, tell me and we stop.”

Bucky was impatient to have you around his cock but he wasn't going to make you feel like you had to. He actually thought he didn't need to prepare you for seeing how wet and dripping you were for him. But he wanted your first time to be easy, as easy as he could make it for you.

“Pay attention to this, princess. I will go easy but we will use safewords. We will use traffic signals. Green is for good, yellow is to pause or slow down and red is to stop completely. Tell me, which are the safewords? I want to hear them from you.”

“Green is for good, yellow is for pause and red is for stop.” You repeated like a diligent student.

“My good girl. Now, I will be inserting my fingers in you. If you feel uncomfortable, use the safewords. Do you understand?” Bucky started stroking your petals with his fingers, very slowly.

Your breath hitched and you nodded eagerly, excited to see and feel what Bucky would do to you. But he stopped stroking and looked with disapproval. “Use your words, princess. Do you understand?”

“Yes I understand, sir. Please don't stop.” Your breathy reply gave Bucky the satisfaction and he started stroking your petals again, spreading the wetness all around.

Bucky decided not to make you beg so much and very slowly inserted his first metal finger in. you whimpered and gasped at the new intrusion. You cover your mouth with your hands and turn your face, trying to subside the noises coming out from you.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well. So fucking beautful and tight, writhing under me. I haven't even put my cock in yet.”

Bucky was able slide his second finger just as easily because of how turned on you were. He increased his pace and you mewled under him. He tsked at you trying to hide your voices and so he brought his other hand over to your clit and rubbed it, making you move your hands from your mouth to grip the sheet under you.

“I knew I could get you to remove your hands. You sound so fucking amazing, princess.”

“Oh god! I'm gonna- Bucky! Please, sir. I'm going to-” You were struggling to get the words out without moaning in between.

“Cum for me, princess. Drench my fingers.”

And you did just that. His ministrations led to your cum spurting out on his metal hand that kept on moving in and out of you, making you ride your orgasm. When you came down from your high, he pulled his fingers out, licking them clean, making you wetter than you already were. A small moan escaped your lips, seeing him enjoying your juice.

“You like seeing me enjoy your juice, don't you?” Bucky chuckled at your squirming reaction. He was still sitting between your legs, you being completely exposed to him.

You nodded with blush heavily creeping on your face.

Bucky leaned down and kissed you deeply, making you taste yourself. Your hands rested on his biceps as he sat back up. “What's your color, princess?”

“It's green, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, do you want my cock in you?”

“Yes sir.” Bucky pulled out a condom from the drawer beside the bed and put on the rubber. You looked intently at his actions, learning how to do it when next time you get to have Bucky.

Bucky pecked you on the lips again and aligned himself against your folds. You gasped at the new sensation. Bucky faltered a little. He was about to pull away but you held onto his bicep tighter and pulled him back.

“It's green, sir. I will tell you if I want to stop. So please don't stop. I want you so bad.”

“You beg so pretty, princess. How can I say no to you?”

Bucky pushed his cock furthur in you and just as he was completely in you, your back arched, letting out a lazy moan and a hiss from your throat. Bucky groaned as he felt you tighten around him.

“Fuck, princess. You're strangling me.”

You mewled as he began to move. In and out. The motion was simple but the feeling building inside of you wasn't.

“Been wanting you for so long, sir.” A strangled cry from your mouth cut you off as he pushed himself deeper. “Been thinking only about you.”

Bucky groaned at your confession and his speed increased, making your back arch again with a sudden loud moan. “My princess. All mine, aren't you?”

A garbled moan left you before you could form a full sentence. “All.. yours… sir…”

“Please go faster, sir.” You dug your nails in his bicep.

“No, I don't want to hurt you.” His voice strained. He was holding himself back and you knew that.

“You will never hurt me, sir. Please go faster. Don't hold back.”

Hearing you affirm that you're okay, Bucky pressed himself on you and put his arms under you. Your arms held onto his back and your nails dug and dragged on his back, leaving marks as he increased his thrusting.

“Oh god! Sir! Don't stop. So good!”

“Not stopping, princess. Never stopping. I could just keep on going like this.”

You mewled and whimpered at every thrust and he tightened his hold around you. Your nipples brushed against his and he moved his metal hand from under you to hold your nipple. He turned and twisted them, making you cry out in pleasure.

Bucky put his mouth on your boobs and sucked hard on your nipples, sending waves of pleasure to your folds. His relentless thrusting just added more to what you have been holding on to. The knot in your stomach tightened, sending a familiar shiver down your back.

“Sir, i’m-”

“Cum my princess, you've been good. Cum for me.”

Bucky sped up his thrusting and you arched against him as you found your release. He kept on thrusting through your orgasm, finally finding a release in you. Your pussy had tightened its hold on him and milked him so well. He kept on murmuring praises in your ear as his thrusting faltered and he stayed still.

“Are you ok, princess?” Bucky shifted and pulled out of you. You whined at the loss but were too fucked out to move. “Use your words, baby.”

“I'm ok. I'm more than ok.” You gave him a dazed smile that made him chuckle.

He stood up from the bed and carried you to the bathroom and helped you clean up. He filled the tub with warm water and sat you in the tub and settled behind you. He pulled you flush against his chest and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Will you send me back? Now that you got what you paid for?” Your small voice clenched his heart.

“I didnt pay to fuck you, princess. I paid to get you out of that house. Having you in my bed, naked, wanting, is just a perk.” Bucky kissed your cheek and pulled you even closer. “I am not sending you anywhere, princess. You belong to me now. The moment you stepped in my house, you were mine. And now that I've had your taste, I'm not going back.”

“So,” you fiddled with your fingers. “If I belong to you, if I am yours, then does that mean you belong to me too? Does that mean you're mine too?”

“Yes, princess. I am all yours.” Bucky kissed your shoulder and then pulled you in a sweet kiss.

You both get up from the tub and Bucky dried you with a fluffy towel. He put one of his old t-shirts on you and a pair of his old breezy boxers that had gotten too tight because of his thighs. He wore one of his joggers and an old tank.

You both slipped in bed and he pulled you flushed against him. You sighed deeply and closed your eyes as the tiring activities were taking over you. But then you had a thought and your eyes popped open. You sat up on the bed, startling Bucky.

“What about dad? He… won't he ask you to return me? What will we do? He'll be pissed. He will cut me off. I have nowhere else to go. I think I should go back.”

Bucky sat up and cupped your face, making you look at him. The panicked look in your eyes made him want to tuck you closer to him but it wasn't going to work. He needed to calm you.

“Princess, look at me. What did I say about you being here?”

“That I belong to you and I'm yours.” your voice turned smaller.

“Exactly. So don't worry about your father at all. I'm here. I will handle everything. And you are not leaving this house. This is yours just as much as mine. Understood?” Bucky caressed your cheeks to calm you down.

“Yes. Understood.” You moved closer to Bucky who pulled you further into his embrace.

“Good girl. Now get some sleep.” He pulled you back on bed and kissed your forehead as you snuggled closer into his arms.

Bucky knew it would cost something to have you in his arms but he also knew that once he had you, he would pay the price but never let you go.

[butchvamp]

i did Lucanis's inner demons quest last night and have some thoughts [everyone groans in unison]

i admit that i definitely have a bias for Lucanis, i really like the crows (or i should say the crows from previous games & the lore around them) and my Rook is a crow so i'm inclined towards him in general.

that being said i feel i'm just. missing huge bits of information about him. he exists entirely in a void. i don't really know anything about his relationships with Illario or Caterina, the game glosses over so much of his role and what exactly he does within the crows (beyond just talking about how he was the Demon and the Magekiller) i suppose it's just too icky for the game to truly acknowledge outside of a few jokes about Lucanis poisoning the gang's food...

i know from seeing people posting excerpts from his novel that Caterina did, in fact, physically abuse him; i figured this was the case considering she's a high ranking member of the crows and thus no doubt had a role in torturing recruits, even if the game pretends like this is a thing that doesn't happen. you get a bit of banter early on where Lucanis, talking about Illario's behavior, says something along the lines of "My relationship with Caterina was complicated, too, and I was her favorite." implying some level of friction between them as well as conflicting feelings about her death.

but then that's it. we get nothing else. this should be a major piece of his story, a part of why he feels the way he does, and exploring Caterina's role in his and Illario's abuse would better expand upon Illario's resentment and make his and Lucanis's relationship more compelling beyond "Illario is a big jealous meanie."

i really wanted to like the inner demons quest more than i did, because conceptually i enjoy going into the fade/Lucanis's memories with Spite, so far Lucanis's quests have felt the most Dragon Age to me (fighting a naked woman in a giant pool of blood + seeing Spite lose control, him and Illario butting heads and having a competitive relationship before this (as the crows all should...), etc. these are fun!) but just like the rest of the game it's still holding back.

when you confront the memory of Caterina all you get are these choices:

none of these are particularly satisfying if you actually know the things Caterina has done... "Your love for him" is actually vile lol

this entire questline is a linear walk through fragments of the Ossuary & Lucanis's memories, there is nothing interesting here, Rook just plays therapist for about twenty minutes and then you make a nothing choice at the end that has no affect on anything at all... and most egregiously, we have learned literally Nothing new about Lucanis that the game hasn't already made an effort to tell us repeatedly (a real problem the game has in general, constant hand-holding and repetition).

there's Quite a bold choice to compare this quest to the Fade section in origins right at the start, with Rook and Spite joking about getting past the guards: "What did you expect, to turn into a mouse or something?" like yes, actually, i did expect something a bit more! even if you want to say the warden does the exact same thing with their companions in that quest, their dialogue is FAR better-- again, Rook's is all clinical therapy-speak (where did she even learn this shit? did the crows pay for her to get a degree in psych and become a licensed counselor?) and in origins, we do actually learn something new about each companion as well as getting to see them interact with their fantasies and/or nightmares. we get nothing here...

we could have seen him and Illario training together, being competitive, the early seeds of resentment being planted between them by Caterina's goading and abuse. we could have seen the guilt Lucanis feels about this, about Caterina's favoritism and how it's affected his relationship with Illario. we could have actually seen what happened to him when he was captured and in the Ossuary, we could have seen some of the horrible things he's had done to him and that he himself has done to become the Demon of Vyrantium, we could have learned more about why the demon inside of him became spite specifically-- because if what Zara's echo said is true, it started as an Envy demon-- so it was influenced by Lucanis in some way. what makes him spiteful? why is it spite that keeps him alive in the Ossuary...? is it spite as in defiance-- defiance of the Venatori, of Caterina's expectations and abuse, in defiance of Illario's betrayal...? unfortunately, Lucanis never really feels spiteful at all. determined to survive the Ossuary, but afterwards, never has he come across as spiteful (Spite is mostly just petty and a bit bitchy).

in my opinion the Envy demon fails because Lucanis was never envious of Illario or the First Talon position, only crushed by the loss of their relationship and guilty over Caterina's favoritism. obviously Caterina's expectations weigh heavily on him, but he knows he's the favorite, and he doesn't envy Illario for not being so-- he seems very aware of the fact that it doesn't equate to Illario having it "easier." but the game barely addresses this, only in weak voice-overs, while the majority of the quest is spent convincing Lucanis that he's not actually a demon. Lucanis is wholly a good guy that only kills blood mages and loves his poor grandma and his inner demon is entirely Literal and just him feeling bad about being an abomination :(

nevermind all that yucky complicated stuff. Illario is Bad and Jealous and deserves to be punished for... doing exactly what crows have always done.

of course it's easy to make Illario look bad when all of the other crows are treated like a found family, when we know that's not the case at all. crows have been competing and scheming and killing each other since origins. this isn't meant to make light of Illario's betrayal (in fact i still think it's quite significant given their history and the two of them being the last of their family) but instead Illario is very obviously suspicious from the start, the reveal of his betrayal was not surprising, it's predictable because, again, he is presented very differently from all the other crows we've seen in this game-- he's the Bad one, and Lucanis is the Good one. no nuance!

in his short story, The Wake, Illario is actually depicted as being extremely remorseful, getting very drunk and reminiscing on old childhood memories of Lucanis while Viago has to carry him home... of course there's no way of knowing the exact intent behind this story or what changed since (published in 2020 and written by Mary Kirby, after all) but either way, we don't get anything like that here. somewhere along the way we lost the depth and complexity of both characters; we don't get to confront this big ugly thing between them because the game refuses to engage with anything ugly at all.

[endless-ineffabilities]

some mildly spicy Ewan 'The Iceberg' Mitchell headcanons for your imaginative indulgence

I want 'em all to see you look good on top of me At this time at night, I need not one, not three Just your two hands on me like my life needs savin' Let 'em all know

a/n: inspired by the release of the song 2 hands. purely self-indulgent, purely fictional, and nothing more. no explicit bits, because I steer clear of those for rpfs. so on your marks, get set...

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✨️ He would be the most gentle partner during your first time together. Not rushing in the slightest as he prepares you, making sure you feel good and comfortable every step of the way, going down on you like it's his last meal on earth. He'd want to maintain eye contact, even as you fall apart underneath him. He would clean you up afterwards, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you fall asleep in his arms.

✨️ He is, of course, sweet and attentive and tender in bed. But the more you get to know him, the more he reveals his rougher, dominant side. You would find out that they were all right about him—while he does keep to himself a lot, Ewan is indeed secretly naughty >:)

✨️ There will be moments when he would be unsure, his eyes would flit all over the room then back to you, and you would know that he's biting back a question.

✨️ What is it, baby? — Hmm, nothing. — C'mon, Ewan. — I was wondering if... if I can take... pictures of you? — Of course, I mean... you already take a lot of pictures of me. — No, I mean... pictures. — Okay. Pictures. What...? — (he'd bury his face in your neck, as if ashamed) I want one where I can see my baby. Every single bit of my baby. — Oh.

✨️ And so that'll be the start of Ewan's most prized album in his phone. Suddenly, the lad will have a knack for photography. He'd capture all the right angles.

✨️ The boy is needy as hell. He'd actually whine in protest when he wants to do it, when he craves you, and you'd brush him off because you're busy working or you're in a rush to go to a meeting.

✨️ Baby, c'mon, just stay. — Ewan, I have to go to work. — I'm a successful actor, I can provide for you, baby. You don't ever have to work again. — Ewan, you're so ridiculous. — Okay, fine, fiiiiiine. But... just give me 10 minutes please. — I really gotta go, babe. — Alright, 5 minutes. Promise to make you scream.

✨️ He's a sucker for neck kisses. It tickles him a little when you nibble on the underside of his jaw, the crook of his neck. He could just lie there forever with his head tilted back and his fingers threaded in your hair.

✨️ But as much as he likes receving neck kisses, he likes doling them out even more. Hickeys stir a primal instinct in him, he likes seeing you covered—branded—in them. As if they prove that you're his and only his.

✨️ His favourite sight is watching you in the throes of climax. His second favourite is when you look up at him as you're on your knees, holding his gaze as you bring him closer to the edge.

✨️ Your bits and bobs would not be in places where you left them. The childhood photo of yours that you tacked onto the board above your desk — in Ewan's wallet. Your favourite piece of lace underwear — for some reason, in the hidden inner pocket of his trusty travel backpack. Your old hairtie — snug around his wrist, because he'd want to keep something of yours on him at all times (and! also useful in case you'd be in a new city together, for example, and you need 10 minutes and your hair neatly kept away from your face).

✨️ Ewan (the true blue cinephile) likes a cheeky fumble in the screen-lit darkness of the cinema. This means that you know to wear a skirt during your movie dates, to give him easy access as his hand wanders under your folded-up coat on your lap. He'd keep his head forward, watching the film as he buries his digits, but his darkened eyes give him away.

✨️ As much as he loves seeing you in nothing but your underwear and one of his metal t-shirts, wearing his clothes for long would be a challenge — the moment he catches sight of you like that, he's instantly turned on. That Metallica shirt would meet the floor. But... there would be times when he would want to have you with nothing but that on.

✨️ He wouldn't mind if you accidentally call him Aemond in the middle of it. It even spurs him on. He would also beg you to please call him my Prince or Prince Regent.

✨️ You would help him practice his lines. One thing in particular—he would want to fully act out the steamy scenes between Aemond and Alys with you, so he could carry that memory of you in his performance.

✨️ He would drive you both around in the old Ford he got from his dad as a gift for his 22nd. You like that he still uses the same car, even as his success continues to grow. And you would become quite familiar with every inch of that newly upholstered backseat.

✨️ If you ask him, he'll tell you he's keeping that car until it's nothing but rust on wheels. Every faint stain and tiny scratch on the leather a reminder of heated moments (fogged up windows, tangled limbs, sharp commands, gear shifts, riding) too precious to part with.

✨️ Not to mention, that backseat is his favourite location to do it in. And it's yours too ;)

[quantum1mmortality]

Im so glad you're writing for Curly bc I'm so obsessed with him rn!! May I suggest (if you haven't done them already) some soft/fluffy post burn hcs? Like finally seing him again after a long drive to the hospital, mentally preparing yourself for what he might look like. Curly being so afraid about how you'd react, and just breaking down when you let out an "oh, Curly :(" and softly place a hand on his cheek, so worried that you might hurt him by accident that it's hardly even a touch at all. Curly leaning his cheek into your palm, having been so scared to see you and now so desperate for your touch.

Life returning to a new normal after a while, prosthetics and PT, skin grafts, so on. Lying in bed with him and being so relived and happy when he gets a spark of mischief like he used to and tries to tickle or play wrestle with you. Him quietly asking questions when the laughter dies down. if you missed his lips, or the blond hair you loved so much that now hardly grew at all. Reassuring him that it didn't matter what he looked like, or what he could and could not do anymore. He's still your curly.

Sorry this turned out so long 😭 I can't get him out of my head!

I LOVE what you wrote 🙏🙏 I'll be going off of these, taking bits and pieces of your hcs and then putting them in here. Overall just gonna be fluffy post crash Curly hcs :)

Of topic, but the way some people in this fandom treat post crash curly makes me nauseous. Finding out that some of you wouldn't treat him like I would makes me wanna cry. Maybe I'm too empathetic or maybe I'm a baby back bitch, either way, I'd care for this man so much. Y'all don't understand how much I love him.

Tw/cw; none!! One curse word but that's literally it (I think)

Not proofread

Extremely sensitive to touch for the first few weeks. I feel as though curly would be in incredible pain, but would try his best to keep your hands touching his cheeks, face, body in general. He'd even go as far as to whimper at how bad it hurt, yet still enduring it because he needed to know you still loved him.

He'd be so happy to see you anytime you were around. Just like pre crash, but it was more special. It got to the point where you would take off work for weeks at a time just to be with him, just so you could see him happy.

After the first two months of agonizing pain, you'd start touching him more. Not sexual, obviously, but just getting more physically affectionate. You'd be able to hug and kiss him goodbye, and hold on to his arm as you talked with him.

Speaking of talking, he wouldn't be able to, so you would talk for him. Basically telling him something, then answering any questions he may or may not have. You've known him long enough, you know how he'd react and question things, so it was practically a no brainer for you.

Now that he doesn't feel as much pain as he used to from your touches, you'd begin sleeping with him. NOT SEXUAL!!! Just cuddling up next to him in the hospital bed, laying your head on his shoulders and kissing him goodnight. Just like how you used to.

Eventually he'd start getting prosthetics, and aside from the physical therapy he's usually getting, you'd bring board games and playing cards so he could learn to use his new hands while still spending time with you.

Curly used to kick your ass in uno and honestly he still does. The trembling in his hands would slowly go away over time, and you were helping him with that much more than his physical therapist was; because at least he wanted to actually be around you.

After months and months, he'd finally be ready to take home. New prosthetics and a bunch of skin graft surgeries later, he's in good condition again. Not perfect in his eyes, but it is in yours.

He wouldn't be able to work, but Pony Express sends him checks as if he was. He gets enough from them, you could quit your job, but you don't want to be dependent on them. So you keep working.

Getting home from work is your favorite part of the day, having Curly be so happy to see you makes everything so worth it.

Your home life goes back to normal with a few exceptions, but nothing too drastic. Curly being in a wheelchair and still not being able to speak, but it's nothing you can't handle. You love him, you're willing to make sacrifices. He'd do the same for you, and you know that.

Bonus content; if you guys were married before the crash, once he got his prosthetic hands, he'd have you help him make a little beaded necklace for his ring to go on; that way he could still wear it :) he'd never take the necklace off once it's done

A/N; I've been pretty busy recently so sorry for the delay on requests; I have a lot of ideas for them though so hopefully they'll be out soon

[consciouscarrot]

strange pains | remus lupin

remus lupin x fem!reader

cw; abuse of power (doctor x patient), (much less) innocence kink, dub/con, vaginal fingering, p in v, oral (r!receiving), kisses (eek), blasphemy and god stuff, tiny tiny bit sad in places (poor reader is so sweet), rem is possessive (<3), implied daddy kink at the end, one use of y/n

notes; pt two of this fic for my lovely anon <3 thank you so very much for your patience

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your second appointment with dr lupin came quickly, having spent the past two days obsessively thinking about your doctor and the way he made you feel.

you still half considered confessing to your priest, feeling sinful for the way you clearly took advantage of the man who was only trying to help you, coming undone from his touch in a way that felt too good to be proper. instead of talking to your priest, something that would most likely end up in you being disowned and kicked out of the church, you decided to apologise when you next saw dr lupin. that way, you could atone and hopefully earn his forgiveness.

just before 6pm, you walked into the waiting room, repeating the words you’d planned to say in your head. however, at the sight of dr lupin stood at the receptionist’s desk, eyes locked on you as he slowly smiled, causing you to stumble slightly and your mind to go completely blank, so much for apologising.

“careful, sweetheart. i need you in one piece,” strong arms wrapped around you, lingering as to make sure you weren’t going to fall again.

you flushed, his head ducking down to meet your eyes when you let you head fall forwards. you whined quietly, too mortified to speak, he rubbed at your lower back kindly, guiding you down the hallway to his office.

“go straight to the bed, honey. all your clothes off and put on the gown like last time, okay?”

you nodded meekly, turning away so you were unable to see the way remus’ eyes drifted over your bare form, having to adjust himself in his trousers at the way you delicately undressed and folded your clothes tidily on the chair.

he ‘turned around’ when you said he could, snapping on his gloves before easing your feet into the stirrups and locking them in, standing between your naked legs.

“how have you been the last couple of days? any changes at all?”

you can barely think at the way his hands massaged at your legs, drifting up from your ankle towards your knee, slowly making his way up. you shifted your hips in a pathetic attempt to ease the tension, the ache deep in your belly starting up again.

“it was better when i left you, but it started up again just before bed that night, and it’s been worse ever since,” your cheeks flushed as memories flickered in your head of your last appointment, silently praying that he’d use that lovely tool attached to him again.

“oh dear, maybe i should start doing house calls with you. it sounds to me like you need some more regular attention, i’ll have a talk with your parents about it afterwards, sound good?”

his hands were now so close to your heat that you couldn’t focus, heat radiating from your body, nails digging into the bed as his fingertips grazed the edge of your cunt, teasing touches prompting you to buck your hips up.

“okay-,” you gasp sharply, his fingers finally making contact as he spreads open your pussy lips, gloves already thoroughly coated in your pooling arousal.

“you poor thing, it looks really swollen and painful right now. are you ready to start, dove? it’ll be just like last time.”

he grins at your eager nod, gliding the tip of his finger along your slit, just barely brushing over your sensitive pearl. you bit your lip, little teeth indents forming on the tender skin as you tried to hold in your noises, chest heaving beneath your dainty little cross necklace, the symbol of your devotion to something supposedly pure whilst doing something so sinful.

he gently pinched at the nub, chuckling when you flinched, head rolling back into the bed with a whine, “use your words.”

“yes please, i’m ready doctor lupin,”

“good girl,” remus hummed, pressing painfully slowly against your sopping hole, teasing touches making tears pool in your waterline, threatening to spill over. breathy moans escaped your pouting lips, hard nipples poking through the thin fabric of the medical gown. the material had slipped down your shoulders with all your wriggling, so close to exposing the soft flesh of your tits. he longed to tug it down properly, or to even rip it off fully, to make you reveal yourself to him, to lay there beneath him, vulnerable for only him.

he finally pushed inside, glistening slick coating your skin as his fingers slipped through, pumping unhurriedly in and out, sliding against that sweet spot that made you keen beneath him, back arched and eyes scrunched shut so tight that colours exploded behind your lids, such sweet moans escaping from chewed lips in the most beautiful song.

he couldn’t take his eyes off of you even if he tried, mesmerised by your movements and your mouth, almost desperate to see more of you, to make you his fully. he sped up his fingers, groaning loudly when the gown finally fell down enough to expose you to him. he had to fight to keep himself from cumming just from the sight of you. pebbled nipples arched up as the delicate flesh bounced with his motions.

you cried out, strings of mewls so pretty. he’d never heard anything as saccharine as you. you were already nearing your first orgasm of the night, thighs trembling as they tried to close themselves around him, restraints on your ankles the only thing holding you back. you writhed, hands clasping for anything to clutch onto, trying to push him away even though you needed him to keep going. it felt so good you thought you could die. you panted heavily, whining constantly until you went silent, mouth gaping as your eyes rolled back, shaking violently as you fell over the edge.

his digits pushed you through, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible, before easing his fingers out with a lewd pop, blue gloves soaked with your creamy cum. you whined at the loss, feeling so empty and desperate for more, for him.

head cloudy with lingering pleasure, you opened you eyes, meeting his gaze as you tried your best to silently beg him to continue, body heavy with exhaustion despite the need already building back up deep inside of you. thankfully for your sanity, he took pity on you, smiling down at you as he removed his gloves, tossing them in the nearby bin before easing you to sit up.

he held your body close to his, and only then did you realise that your gown had slipped down, gasping at the feel of your ripples grazing against his shirt. you flushed, clinging to him as you tried to cover yourself up.

“hey, no, no- it’s okay, you can keep it down, even take it off, if you’d like. there’s things we can do to your breasts, and i think it would help your treatment a lot, if you’re up to it.”

he half expected you to say no, to find it far too inappropriate, already regretting taking the gamble when he’d lucked out with you; a patient so pretty and so innocent he could do whatever he wanted, and you enjoyed it.

“okay, i’ve just never- um,” you buried your face in his chest, so embarrassed and aroused. you found it strange that you wanted him to see you, you wanted to feel his eyes on your bare body. you wandered if this was a side effect of your illness, or something more.

remus nearly creamed his pants at that, already knowing it but hearing you say it out loud was- fuck. he muffled his involuntary groan into your hair, breathing in the ambrosial scent of your shampoo. “no one’s ever seen you like that?” he grinned when you nodded into his shirt, “oh poppet, that’s okay. more than okay, i’d be delighted to be the first.”

he eased your head away from him, cupping your jaw to tilt your head back, his hands engulfing your smaller face. your cheeks were rosy and skin was shining with the light sweat, lip snug between your teeth as you bit down, doe eyes looking up at him so innocently as your hands slid down from his chest to just above his belt, blissfully unaware of how much you were affecting him.

he spent a few moments just watching you, caressing your skin as he tried to make you more comfortable, eyes never leaving yours. he knew that he’d never cope without you, that there could never be anyone else after meeting you. he wasn’t sure how he could go about it, how to make things happen organically without alerting your parents to his malpractice, but he’d find out a way. there was no way he’d ever let you go.

“would you like me to help you undress?”

he raised a brow at your nod, praising you when you quickly corrected yourself and nervously spoke your consent. his fingers trailed up your arms, along and over your shoulders before meeting on your back, making your shiver as he untied the strings, careful not to catch any of your hair in the knots. the material slowly slid down your arms, and you pushed off the bed slightly as he pulled it from underneath you, letting it fall to the floor.

remus trailed his eyes over your form, taking in your even curve and dimple and imperfection. you sucked in a sharp breath when he made contact with your bare skin, hands tracing and squeezing, taking in every little detail. you arched into him when he cupped at your tits, feeling your cunt pulse at the way his palm covered you, thumb rubbing at your cross briefly before he flicked your nipple.

“my god, you’re breathtaking,”

you blanched slightly at the blasphemy, not used to people talking about god like that, and certainly not from seeing you naked. you guessed that meant you were very pretty,

“thank you, sir,”

his cock twitched at that, and he longed to fill you with his seed again, but he wanted to taste you more. he’d known that it was too soon last time, but feeling you now, he couldn’t resist. he needed to feel you on his tongue as your naked body shook for him, and only ever him.

“are you ready for the next part, sweet dove?”

“yes sir, please it’s starting to hurt again,”

laying you back down, he let you watch him unbuckle his belt, teasing down the zipper, making you wait for what you knew was coming next. you whimpered at the sight of his hard cock, eyes widening at your first proper look at the ‘medical tool’. you were shocked to find it skin coloured, pale flesh with a couple of protruding veins running up the side to the tip, which was an angry red, leaking some sort of clear fluid, dripping down his cock.

if you’d been in your right mind, you would’ve questioned it, suspicion souring the experience as you would’ve started to think that this wasn’t a normal treatment. however, with one orgasm already mollifying the rational anxious part of your mind, you only cared about getting the tool inside of you and soothing this horrendous ache.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of it as he palmed your cunt, coating his hand in slick before using it to lube himself up, reading himself and tappping the tip against your soaked slit, remus’ focus shifting to your face to make sure you were ready.

you both groaned when he finally began to sink into you, heavy cock forcing your silky walls to accommodate him, steadily pushing in until your hips met, stretching you open. it somehow felt bigger than last time, maybe from the way he stood still for a minute, head tipped back as he breathed slowly, barely able to cope with the way you squeezed him so tight.

you watched him through blurred eyes, tears clouding your vision at the desperation that tore at you, thighs trembling around his body as you tried your best to patiently wait for more. you were a good girl, you swear. just needed to prove it and you’d get what you wanted, had to show him.

only when you let out a tiny sob did he look back down at you, brows furrowed in concern at the distressed noise, so sad sounding that it pulled at his heartstrings. he gave you his hand when you reached for him, letting you cling and fiddle anxiously at his fingers.

“what’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“need you, please. wanna feel like that again- i’ll be good, promise,”

“fuck, honey. okay- okay. you are being good, so good f’me. i’ll give you what you want, i always will,” he pulled out until only the tip was left inside of you, waiting until you clenched down around it to thrust back in quickly, wasting no time in warming you up when you were already so soaked and pliant for him, and only him.

you were given no option but to take it, still clutching at his one hand with both of yours, his other grasping your hip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he left little purple and blue bruises there, marking you as a reminder of how he makes you feel. you were excited to feel over them later in front of a mirror, to take a couple of polaroids to capture the memory and press down on them until the sweet pain sent shocks of pleasure to your cunt.

“oh- please, feels so good,”

“so tight around me, taking it so well,”

he fucked you so deliciously, you both let every sound out, your moans and whimpers intwining with his groans and grunts, creating a song that would play in his head when he fisted his cock to the thought of you whenever he couldn’t have you near.

he treasured you like your mama always said a man should, he made you feel oh so good, head empty with everything but him. no one else had ever occupied your mind like remus had. sure, he was openly blasphemous and he wasn’t religious, so your daddy would never approve, but you didn’t care. as long as you were forever his and he was yours, you would never care about your daddy’s opinion again.

your high built up, toes curling in the stirrups as you clung to him the best you could, slick coating his thick cock as he pounded into you, most definitely creating a mess. his free hand slipped from your hip, causing you to be jostled further up the bed as he started swirling tight circles onto your clit.

he knew you were enjoying the more sensual side of sex that he’d shown you, but he briefly wondered how you’d react to him being a little rougher with you, maybe a scarred hand wrapped around your pretty little neck, fingertips pressing lightly into the sides as your tight pussy spasmed around him.

instead, he settled for leaning down, his warm breath tickling your breasts as you arched your back into him, screaming when his lips enclosed around your nipple, teeth grazing the tender skin. but, only when his mouth deviated did you cum for him, he hovered between your tits, glanced up at you, holding eye contact as he sucked your cross necklace into his mouth, teeth holding it between his scarred lips.

you knew in the back of your mind that this had gone too far, but it just felt too good. his mouth was perfect. you cried out, tears trickling down your cheeks as pleasure thrummed through you, fluid squirting out around his cock as he continued to fuck you, hips speeding up at your unrestrained noises.

remus’ cock twitched uncontrollably at the way you milked him, walls constricting so tightly around him that it almost hurt. his balls tightened, and he folded more into you, head buried between your tits as his mouth gaped open, cross falling from between his teeth as he came inside of you, filling you up to the hilt.

you both panted, bodies covered in a light sheen of sweat that made his shirt stick to his skin, still fully clothed as pushed up, hair flopping down from where it had been so perfectly styled to the now messy locks, strands curling slightly at the ends.

you both groaned when he pulled out, you hating the horribly empty feeling and him from overstimulation. you were barely aware of him tucking his cock back in his boxers, only sign being his belt clinking as you fought to stay conscious, still wracked with the onslaught of the powerful aftershocks that left you shaking, growing disappointment filling you that it was over already.

“are you up to trying else something new today? i promise it’ll feel very good,”

head still spinning from pleasure, you had no choice but to comply, almost too fucked out to even register that remus was speaking to you. you nearly blacked out at the feeling of a soft, wet muscle gliding over your clit, heartbeat pounding in your ears as he began to lick at you, pearly cum leaking out of you and onto his tongue, making him groan at the taste of your combined fluids. he sucked and slurped, cleaning you up with his mouth, making you writhe uncontrollably and mewl loudly.

still ever so sensitive from your previous orgasms, you didn’t last long, stuttered breaths causing your lungs to ache from the lack of oxygen before you fell apart, the blood rushing around your head too loud to hear the sugary praises murmured by remus, repeated “good girl,”s and “thaaat’s it, there you go, baby.”

you completely consumed his every thought, and he knew he’d spend the next couple of days until your next routine appointment replaying this moment in his head again and again, the way your head tipped back, back arching once again and hair mussing on the thin pillow. the way you screamed at the pleasure that only he could give you. the way you tasted on his tongue, the tanginess and sweetness of your cum that could never be replicated.

you collapsed back against the bed, body quivering from the intensity. he rubbed at your thighs soothingly, massaging at the sore muscles that had now relaxed, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, one just above your clit just so that he could hear you whimper again.

“say thank you,” he teased, voice low and honeyed, unable to keep the smile from it.

“thank you- mm- thank you, sir,”

“feeling any better?”

“mhm, much. i think you…” you trailed off, head lulling to the side sleepily.

he chuckled quietly, not wanting to disturb your peace as he unbuckled the restraints on your ankles, “you think i…” he prompted gently, before he carefully cleaned you up with a warm, damp cloth.

“i think you broke me, feels so good. m’like jelly,”

he couldn’t help but smile, his rough hands sliding beneath your bare back to pull you up, encouraging your head against his chest again. his heart fluttered when you melted into him, fully allowing yourself to go slack in his hold. you trusted him so much, he felt a little guilty that he’d taken advantage of you in such a vulnerable way, but he knew that this might’ve been the only way he could’ve gotten to have you. and now that he’d had you, he could never let you go.

he brushed stray hairs out of your face, the strands damp with sweat from where they’d stuck to your skin. resting his chin on the top of your head, he savoured the moment as much as possible, clutching your naked body close to clothed one,

“your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, glass heart so hopeful that he might be feeling the same as you, biting you lip as you pulled back to meet his eyes again.

he leant down slightly, his face was so close to yours, far closer than appropriate. a part of your naïve, little self couldn’t bear that you were participating in something that god wouldn’t approve of, with someone that you weren’t even close to married to, but you still loved it. and you still allowed him to do anything he wanted to you.

his attention flicked between your eyes, his brown irises consumed by the blown out pupils, before it flicked down to your rosy lips. he held your face, just enough to keep you in place as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your milky teeth.

you gasped when he closed the gap, eyelids fluttering shut as you pressed against him, unsure movements showing your inexperience as you desperately tried to copy the way his lips moved against yours. he took it slow with you, wanting to savour it and not make you panic, but also enough to entice you, to make you need more, not just want.

remus swiped his tongue along your mouth, taking advantage of the way you gasped again, swirling it inside briefly before drawing back, allowing you a moment to breathe. you trailed after him, trying to follow his lips for more.

smiling, he leant your foreheads together, still keeping you close as you panted, having not yet learnt how to breathe and kiss at the same time. it was okay, he’d love to teach you. in fact, he needed to be the only one to teach you these things, wanted to be your first and last.

the two of you spent as long as possible just holding each other there, silently sucking in each others heat. he eventually moved back, leisurely redressing you with sweet kisses in-between each item. a kiss to your hipbone for your underwear. a kiss to the tip of your nose for your top. a kiss to the sole of your foot for your socks, making you squeal.

as you slowly came back down, you began to realise that what had happened was definitely sin, but you wondered why god was so against something that felt so good. why would he not want you to be happy, when this was certainly the happiest you had ever been.

remus eased you to stand, holding you up in case you still wobbly legs gave out, but also to selfishly steal as much affection from you until two more days time. he wasn’t sure how he was going to last that long without feeling you, touching you and tasting you. he yearned to take you home and teach you everything he knew. to taste you until the sun came up, and then a little more. he was infatuated with you.

one hand on your back, the other cupping the back of your head, he bent his head down, nuzzling your nose lovingly before kissing you again. you couldn’t get enough of the feeling, kisses with him were indescribable, you only wished that you could get to do it more.

you giggled when he turned around, handing you a red lollipop meant for little kids, unwrapping it for you as he tentatively watched you wrap your lips around the sweet, not realising the not so innocent thoughts that were tormenting his head.

“did so very well for me today, you’re responding perfectly to the treatments. i think we will go ahead with making these appointments house calls, and much more regular visits too. how would you feel about that?”

you nodded eagerly, gasping excitedly at the thought of him being around more often, and maybe even in your bedroom, “yes please, but you’ll have to talk to my daddy.”

“of course, i’ll be looking forward to seeing you again, y/n,” he smoothed down your hair, returning your grin. luckily for him, you missed the way his eyes darkened at the way you referred to your father, and the way he had to subtly rearrange his already re-firming cock beneath his trousers.

remus walked you to your parents car again, his hand straying a little too low when no one was around. your father didn’t hesitate to agree to the house calls, nor to the even more regular appointments when he saw you beaming, visibly happier than you’d been in months, if not years.

you couldn’t wait to see remus again, nor him you. when he returned back to his office after waving you off, he couldn’t help but palm at his length, thinking of all the things he’d be able to do to you in the very near future.

[justallihere]

Almost a year ago, at about 2 in the morning, I posted a little (lol) fic called storm in the quiet. I’d gotten the sudden urge to write the evening before and stayed up late to finish that first chapter, and then I posted it before I could talk myself out of it. I woke up the next morning to half a dozen or so comments, which was, frankly, half a dozen more than I was expecting. I thought I’d be lucky if 20 people read it—I’d have been over the fucking moon if just one person took the time to tell me they liked it.

At the time, I didn’t expect that it would grow into anything. I wrote it for myself, because this story had grown roots in the back of my brain and refused to be weeded out. Those of you who have been around since the beginning probably remember that the number of fics in the fandom at the time was pretty small, so if there was a specific story I wanted to read, I was going to have to write it myself.

And, apparently, a lot of you wanted to read it too. The initial response was unexpected, but the way this story has grown beyond those first few loyal readers and been loved by so many is truly incomprehensible. The past year has been hard. It seems like every day something has gone wrong. There have been times when I truly didn’t feel like myself, and every minute felt like a slog. There have been times when I didn’t want to write, when I didn’t care at all about some fic I was posting anonymously on the internet, but I know that as much as writing it was my escape, getting to read it was yours. And at the end of the day I’ve always been able to come here, to this community, and see so many kind words, and it was the encouragement I needed to continue, for me and for you. It has helped me more than I can ever properly tell you.

Thank you for loving this story—imperfect and messy as it is, with all its broken parts. I left pieces of myself in these words, so thank you for treating them with care. It means everything 🩷

[rebeccathenaturalist]

So you may have seen my posts about AI foraging guides, or watched the mini-class I have up on YouTube on what I found inside of them. Apparently the intersection of AI and foraging has gotten even worse, with a chatbot that joined a mushroom foraging groups on Facebook only to immediately suggest ways people could cook a toxic species:

First, and most concerningly, this once again reinforces how much we should NOT be trusting AI to tell us what mushrooms are safe to eat. While they can compile information that's fed to them and regurgitate it in somewhat orderly manners, this is not the same as a living human being who has critical thinking skills to determine the veracity of a given piece of information, or physical senses to examine a mushroom, or the ability to directly experience the act of foraging. These skills and experiences are absolutely crucial to being a reliable forager, particularly one who may be passing on information to others.

We already have enough trouble with inaccurate info in the foraging community, and trying to ride herd on both the misinformed and the bad actors. This AI was presented as the first chat option for any group member seeking answers, which is just going to make things tougher for those wanting to keep people from accidentally poisoning themselves. Moreover, chatbots like this one routinely are trained on and grab information from copyrighted sources, but do not give credit to the original authors. Anyone who's ever written a junior-high level essay knows that you have to cite your sources even if you rewrite the information; otherwise it's just plagiarism.

Fungi Friend is yet one more example of how generative AI has been anything but a positive development on multiple levels.

[bitchslapblastoids]

Prompted by your post about dnp inviting audience interaction: it /is/ really brave, and so interesting! I haven't been watching them for long at all and one of the biggest things that just drew me in and deeply fascinated me about them is how so much of their work (not just on stage) is in some way a conversation/interaction with their audience and the more you watch the more you notice it. No wonder its easy to be parasocial about them and about the Phandom itself!

To me, at least, they seem to be the sort of performers/creators that need a relatively high level of audience interaction in order to be inspired or for their work to feel meaningful. Like, im absolutely sure they could also create things without this close relationship with their audience but it seems to be what their naturally drawn towards? Obviously the problem has been in maintaining boundaries within that but it seems like that's going better now than at some points in the past, which makes me really happy for everyone!

Sorry about the long yap, this is so interesting to me and I just needed to express it a little

(original post referenced) yes!!! i love this!!! so beautifully worded! no need to apologize at all - i am in such hearty agreement and actually think about this so often. i think the engagement with their audience is their superpower, and it runs so deep. what was one of dan's favorite things about phil before he met him? phil's interactive adventure videos, in which he was creating an interactive experience for his viewers.

when they film pinof1 together, what are they doing? they're answering an audience-submitted q&a. the audience interaction is literally baked into their foundation! <3

2010, dan's uni dorm. what's displayed behind him on his wall? art and letters sent to him by viewers. he films danmail vids where he opens and reacts to said art and letters and personally thanks the senders.

for years and years and years, what's at the end of every phil video? fanart! draw phil naked! (in retrospect literally so weird lol but shhh)

the ongoing avalanche of vyous and younows and tumblr reblogs/follows and responding to yt comments and retweets and and and. so much interaction. the videos directly engaging with twitter and tumblr creations. they see us, they know us, they get us.

their first book? included a double-page spread with dozens of pieces of phanart.

every single one of their tours has multiple essential audience interaction components, and even more brilliantly, with multiple different access points that are perfectly calibrated to their audience. too shy to speak up? send in a submission ahead of time. want to be a part of the masses? shout something out during the audience participation segments! and there's always the likelihood that they'll include fanart in the show itself, casually mention an actual actively popular fic, throw in an ancient phwedding manip, or just build whole segments of the show around our tropes and the world that we created with them. all of that keeps things exciting and engaging on stage, bc you never know exactly what's going to come next. but it also keeps their audience feeling seen, valued, and like co-creators in a way.

When you look at the other britcrew and big yters from the 2010s, they simply weren't generating that ongoing, authentic conversation with their audiences. their approach followed the simple format of: i post, you watch. and then it became: i post, you watch, then i try and sell you something while i call you my 'community' because you are all watching me and sometimes you talk to one another in the comments. but it's not like zalfie or joe and casper etc. were chiming in on the convos too, or at least not in any meaningful way. it wasn't a community in the same way.

dan and phil truly built community. i think communities require mutual exchange, communication, a sense of value and worth, commonly agreed upon truths, shared experiences, touchstones of connection, and leaders who have integrity. i know this is all starting to sound a little lofty, but i really do think dan and phil are good humans who have worked hard to wield their power and influence responsibly and compassionately. they set the tone for us, constructed this world, paid attention to what landed for us, how we responded to things, everything that we were up to in response to what they were up to. they listened. they made us feel seen and celebrated and appreciated, and in turn we continued to celebrate them. they created weird inside jokes, we adopted them, then we all shared the weird inside jokes. they existed, we created our own language and lore and encyclopedia in response, and now there's a whole stage show about it.

that's how you get people sticking around for 15 years. that's how you get people to actually want to spend money on you. and yeah, some more boundaries at times couldn't have hurt. they fostered a sense of proximity and entitlement that obviously put them in harm's way. but i'd say ultimately what they've manage to do has been a net good for them and a tremendous success.

you raised such a good point that it seems to be what they are naturally drawn towards. i think it's because they, too, were fangirls. phil was writing buffy fic. dan was running a lost wiki. they both understood the power of online fan community before they were the titans of their own. they get it, they get us <3

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXVII)

Chapter 27: ‘They loved music and swam in for a singer, who might stand at the end of summer’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This one is one of my favourites… I’m very proud of Andy in this one :)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 5601

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The Singer’s House

When they said Carrickfergus I could hear the frosty echo of saltminers' picks. I imagined it, chambered and glinting, a township built of light.

What do we say any more to conjure the salt of our earth? So much comes and is gone that should be crystal and kept

and amicable weathers that bring up the grain of things, their tang of season and store, are all the packing we'll get.

So I say to myself Gweebarra and its music hits off the place like water hitting off granite. I see the glittering sound

framed in your window, knives and forks set on oilcloth, and the seals' heads, suddenly outlined, scanning everything.

People here used to believe that drowned souls lived in the seals. At spring tides they might change shape. They loved music and swam in for a singer

who might stand at the end of summer in the mouth of a whitewashed turf-shed, his shoulder to the jamb, his song a rowboat far out in evening.

When I came here first you were always singing, a hint of the clip of the pick in your winnowing climb and attack. Raise it again, man. We still believe what we hear.

Seamus Heaney, Field Work

Andrew was kissing you.

Fingers in your hair, he cupped your face in a tender yet firm hold. His lips were divine against yours, your head spinning with the feeling of his beard against your soft skin, feeling intoxicated by his scent…

Christ, he was so good at this…

His lips fell away from yours to trail along your jawline, down the curve of your neck, and you shamelessly moaned when he nipped at the soft skin there, leaving it reddened with his kisses. You unbuttoned his brown shirt, your favourite, the one that made him look so… divine…

“I want you so bad, Y/N.”

His voice was rough, so deep it made your entire being tremble.

“The things I want to do to you…”

You moaned at his words, kissing him again, pushing back his open shirt until you could peel it off him, run your fingers along his pale skin.

You fell onto your bed then, now both of you mostly naked. It was a blur, how the world kept on spinning, how time kept on ticking, how the last pieces of garments disappeared from your bodies. You didn’t care. All you cared about was the size of Andrew’s hands as they splayed over your breasts, across your ribcage, over your thighs, how he dug his fingers into your hips, the roughness of his calloused skin making you shiver. It felt like he was touching all your body at once.

His lips were trailing along your thighs now, and you moaned as he left a few marks here and there, as he rubbed his beard across your skin to make you squirm, which worked so easily every time.

“Y/N.”

The way he whispered your name before kissing your inner thigh again…

“Y/N…”

His voice a little louder as his breath fanned over the most intimate part of you.

“Y/N!”

You opened your eyes with a jolt, looking around, completely lost, not recognising where you were…

A car. You were inside a car. Trees and the countryside through the window…

“Y/N? You’re alright?”

You followed his familiar voice to look into the driver’s seat, next to you. Andrew was sitting there, his frame ridiculously big in the secluded space of the car. He was driving.

“You’re alright?” he asked again. “You were… kind of moaning in your sleep… I wasn’t sure whether you had a nightmare or something…”

Your eyes grew round, you averted your gaze back on the moving landscape on the other side of the window.

You had fallen asleep… you had fallen asleep while Andrew was driving you both to Bray, holy shit…

You had a wet dream about Andrew… when he was sitting next to you…

HOLY SHIT!

“Erm… can’t remember it but… I think it was a nightmare, yeah,” you nodded, trying to breathe despite the embarrassment that made your throat tighten.

“I didn’t mean to wake you at first, but I was a little worried… we’ll soon be there, anyway.”

“No, no, you were right to wake me. Thank you.”

You tried to find back your composure while Andrew hummed along to Bruce Springsteen.

Indeed, you had almost reached Bray, would soon be in Andrew’s hometown. You watched the sea stretching before you, the water darker than usual under the grey of the sky.

The town was ready to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day, the streets decorated and full of colours. Andrew would miss the parade to rehearse for his gig, but you would enjoy the festivities on your own for a couple of hours before joining him again before the show. You had offered to stay with him while he rehearsed, but Andrew had asked you not to. He didn’t want you to ‘hear him fail’ as he put it. You didn’t want to make him nervous or uncomfortable, so you didn’t insist.

You were to meet up with his friends still. You were relieved when Andrew told you he wouldn’t invite Sam today. You had asked him, knowing it would be a great opportunity for him to spend time with her, but he didn’t want to invite her. You weren’t sure why.

For now, it didn’t matter. You were getting nervous as Andrew drove through the streets of Bray, and your embarrassment over your dream wasn’t helping.

You hoped his friends would like you. You had heard a lot about Alex, just like you had mentioned Siobhán often. You knew the rest of the group had been formed during their college days, that some of his childhood friends would come to the gig too. You felt a little lonely, but you hoped you would hide it well. You knew no one, except for Andrew. You hoped no one would notice how nervous you…

“Y/N… relax, it’s alright.”

You looked up at him.

“What?”

“You’re nervous. But there’s no reason for you to feel that way. It’s gonna be alright. It’s just a few friends… and besides, you’re not the one who’s going to sing tonight!”

He winked at you, shot you a charming smile, and it made your heart skip a few beats.

You scoffed.

“I’m not nervous.”

“No?”

“Not at all!”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’re tough enough as you are, no need to pretend to be invulnerable.”

There was something so tender in his voice, so earnest, as he spoke those words, you felt your chest and throat tighten.

“Maybe I’m a little nervous…” you mumbled under your breath, making him laugh.

“You’re adorable,” he let out the words like a confession, making your body grow warm.

“It’s a lot of new people to meet,” you argued, and he nodded.

“You can leave whenever you want. Don’t feel pressured to stay.”

“We’ve come with your car.”

“I’ll pay for the cab.”

“That will cost you an arm and a leg…”

“Anything for you.”

The words were humorous, but his tone was too tender for you to laugh.

You remained silent while Andrew was waiting at a red light, asked the question that had been on your tongue for days once the car started moving again.

“Andy… why didn’t you invite Sam?”

You saw that his hold on the wheel tightened, regretted asking that stupid question. But he answered anyway.

“I didn’t want her to come.”

His answer was genuine, it took you aback.

“Why not?”

He shrugged.

“She doesn’t care about music. She came only once to one of my gigs, when we started dating, and I thought I wanted to make a living out of it. She was bored out of her mind. She never came again.”

You frowned hard.

“What about your poetry? Your readings?”

“She doesn’t like poetry. She never came.”

“But… but it’s you.”

You saw the way he struggled to swallow, the heavy bopping of his Adam’s Apple.

“I was never reason enough, Y/N.”

You frowned hard at that.

“What do you mean? You were her partner. She should have…”

But then you thought of Frank, and when was the last time he had shown interest in the things you loved most?

Andrew shrugged, his eyes fixed on the road.

“I don’t want her here today. I’m going to sing, and have a good time with my friends. I don’t want to think about her, I want… I want to move on, today.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“Do you think you can do that? Move on?”

Andrew gave you a sad smile.

“I think I can. I think it hurts, but I can.”

You saw him blushing this time, before he would speak again.

“Actually, I… I think I’m falling for someone else.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow. Your heart was racing, at first with excitement, and then with disappointment.

Of course, he couldn’t be talking about you… that was why he was confiding with a friend. It wasn’t you. And you didn’t care! You didn’t care at all, because you wanted Frank, you wanted the life you had with him, you wanted your life back. Andrew could fall in love with whoever he wanted and you didn’t care. You didn’t care if it wasn’t you, you didn’t care, your heart was already taken, you didn’t…

“I… I think it’s been going on for a while,” Andrew went on, clearly nervous now. “But I realised recently and… I don’t know… I want to wait, until I’m over Sam. But I don’t think I’m going to actively try to get her back anymore.”

“Oh… okay…”

“It’s alright, I’ll still help you, if you want. I’m not even sure what I’ll do…”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Y/N, could we… could we not talk about them today?”

You bit your lip, nodded in agreement.

“Yeah… sure… sorry for bringing her up.”

“It’s alright, I just… I don’t want to think about them today.”

You gave him a smile while he was pulling up in front of a small house in the suburbs.

“This is our stop. My friend Katie is hosting.”

You were nervous again as you walked towards the house. There were seven people inside waiting for Andrew and you, people you didn’t know, people Andrew loved deeply, people…

“HOZIER! YOU FUCKER!”

You looked up as a blond woman opened the door and rushed into Andrew’s arms for a hug.

“Hi! Katie!” he chuckled.

“You’re late! As per usual…”

“I’m not!”

“You are!”

“There was traffic!”

“Traffic, my arse!”

She turned to you with a bright smile.

“Oh, you must be Y/N!”

“Yes, I am. That’s very nice to meet you.”

“Come on in! There are beers in the fridge!”

You grinned at her, followed Andrew inside. You were introduced to everyone, greeted with welcoming smiles. Alex gave you a hug, which you reciprocated with a chuckle.

“I feel like I know you already, given the amount of time Andy spends rambling about how wonderful you are.”

“Alex…” Andrew hissed, nudging him in the ribs, but you laughed.

“He rambles about you a lot too,” you answered, and Alex heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I know, but I’ve already told him, he needs to move on. He’s just a friend.”

“You’re breaking my heart, mate…” Andrew dramatically put his hand on his chest for good measure, making all of you laugh.

“Y/N, are you staying for the rehearsal?” asked Katie.

“Erm… no, I think I’ll head out and enjoy the city.”

“Oh! We’ll come with you! Let’s split. Musicians here, and the rest of us out there enjoying the festivities and getting pre-drunk.”

You laughed at that, but nodded at the invitation. You stayed in the house for a little while, people merely chatting. And then the four musicians had to get to work, and you left with the rest of the group.

You had barely walked out of the house that Katie was beaming at you.

“It’s great that you could come Y/N! It’s nice to know that Andy is moving on, that he’s got someone he can trust up there, in Dublin.”

You smiled.

“Yeah, we’re good friends now.”

She tilted her head.

“Just that?”

You blinked, surprised.

“Erm… yeah… we’re friends.”

“Oh, I thought you were together.”

“No! No, we’re not.”

“Oh, sorry then! It’s just… Andy was so excited about you coming, and he’s been rambling non-stop about you and… Just… in there, he seemed so happy with you. I thought you were more than friends. But sorry if I got it wrong.”

You gave her a reassuring smile, tried to hide how your heart was pounding.

And yet he was falling for someone else… right?

You watched the parade with Katie, Maggie, Seamus and Sheila. Or rather, you used the parade as décor while you caught up on a lot of gossip from their friend group.

Sheila was married to Rory, the drummer. Katie was a childhood friend of Andrew’s. They had shared one kiss when they were teenagers and promised each other never to do something as disgusting ever again. Then there was Alex and Sebastian, who had met Andrew while in college, both of them musicians. Seamus and his wife Maggie had been Andrew’s friends for almost two decades. There were talks of a baby, Andrew would be the godfather, without a doubt.

You found the group welcoming, and a lot of fun to be around. They all seemed nice, all were kind to you. It was a little strange how they seemed so eager to know more about you, to easily speak of Andrew and you as if there was more than friendship between the two of you. You brushed that detail away. Your head must have been playing tricks on you, it was nothing serious. You had made it clear that Andrew and you were just friends, and you had no doubt that he had never lied about that to his friends either.

You were on your way back to Katie’s house, choosing to walk there instead of taking the bus. It was easier, it let you enjoy the celebration throughout the city a little longer. Besides, the weather was quite nice today. Better enjoy it while it lasted.

“So… you’ve met Samantha, huh?” Katie asked, and it was obvious that she didn’t like Andrew’s ex very much.

“Yeah, I have.”

“How did you find her?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know… she’s not… bad or anything. Like, she’s pretty nice. But… I don’t know. Andrew told me she never came to his gigs or that she didn’t read his poetry. That doesn’t sit quite right with me.”

“We couldn’t agree more,” Sheila nodded. “There was nothing wrong with her but… she wasn’t right for Andy. And the way she kept on pushing him away…”

“He hasn’t told me much about that,” you confessed.

“He asked her several times to move in with him, she always refused, said that they were too young, that she needed to find herself first… It was bullshit. She was just… keeping him around but didn’t want for things to get too serious.”

You nodded. Thought about Frank, of the way he kept on delaying everything too. They had done the same, you could see it now.

Didn’t you deserve better than that, too? Couldn’t you have better?

“I’m really glad you’re coming tonight,” Katie gave you a warm smile. “We all are.”

“I’m glad to be here. I’m glad he asked me to come.”

“Hozier’s voice is… unmatched, really,” Katie nodded. “And he’s so good on stage. He would have been a brilliant musician, if he didn’t like poetry so fucking much, and if… if things had been easier at the time.”

“Hmm… He told me about his family.”

“Yeah, it was rough. Again. But they came through. I know that Sam used to think he had wasted his chance, his life, because he didn’t take a record deal at the time. But it was bullshit through and through.”

“The pop thing?” you asked, and Katie nodded.

“The songs were just… pop hits, really. Or written to be pop hits. And Andy didn’t want that. He deserved better than that. He was right to say no. And then he chose not to pursue music further, and I think he was right. At the time, it was what he needed. I will never forgive Sam for making him feel like he wasted his chance.”

“He loves it though… Trinity, I mean,” you told her. “It’s obvious. He’s an amazing teacher. And a brilliant academic.”

“I heard he’s popular there,” Sheila nodded.

You laughed.

“All the students love him. His lessons are always full. I get why, he’s good at it.”

“And he’s hot,” Katie added, making all of you laugh. “If I didn’t prefer women, and had never seen him so trollied he puked on my shoes… I might even agree.”

“He threw up on you?” you asked while laughing.

“Ooooh! I need to tell you all about that!”

The weather was good enough for a barbecue, something simple and full of laughter. The gig was to begin at 9:30, and the pub was nearby. You decided to eat and celebrate Andrew’s birthday before the show. You were learning so many stories about Andrew, most of them being embarrassingly funny. He was blushing, but seemed content with the teasing camaraderie that had settled in Katie’s garden. Indeed, you had rarely seen him smiling so much.

It was finally time for the cake, and Alex carried it from the kitchen, candles glowing and ready to be extinguished with a wish. You were singing too loudly, not caring about neighbours complaining. The beer and the cheap wine that had been drunk throughout the evening were enough to make you tipsy and merry.

Andrew was grinning as he blew on the candles, and quickly scooped up a little bit of icing on his finger, mischief painted all over his features as he did so, making you all laugh.

God, he was so cute. Adorable. And so fucking hot…

You tried not to think about the dream you had earlier that day, about what it meant. You couldn’t want Andrew, of all people, it would make things so complicated in your life… and yet…

“Alright! Gifts!” exclaimed Maggie, and she immediately handed him a square box and put it in front of him on the table.

Andrew blushed, his smile growing more emotional.

“You didn’t have to…”

“It’s your birthday! Don’t start!” Seamus argued, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders.

You all brought out your gifts, and you felt so nervous when you put your own bundle in front of him. Meanwhile, he grinned.

“Thank you so much,” he mumbled, a smile shining through a thicker accent.

He opened the gifts one by one. Some were inner jokes between the group of friends, some were books, others music-related. He seemed happy with all of them. Katie made him wear a ridiculous colourful birthday hat, and he didn’t complain, merely giggled like a little boy. Then came your gifts, and you were so nervous and embarrassed at the thought that he might not like them, that it was silly…

He frowned a little as he noticed that there were several items in your bundle.

“You didn’t have to buy me anything…” he complained, but tore off the paper anyway.

First, there was a set of whiteboard markers, as he always lost his at work and constantly borrowed yours five minutes before his lectures. He laughed at that, rolled his eyes as you called him a thief, but couldn’t deny the truth.

He picked up the notebook you had chosen next, a leathered cover with a Seamus Heaney quote traced in golden letters.

Noli Timere

He looked up at you with surprise, but you merely smiled. He opened it to take a look at the pages, read the note you had written there.

For the poems I hope to hear one day.

He was blinking tears away as he put the notebook down, he didn’t say anything, and you could tell that it was because he wasn’t certain he could summon his voice. There were two books as well, one of your recommendations for him, and a special edition of a collection of Irish poetry. He let his fingers run across the beautiful covers, traced the letters before looking up at you. There were so many emotions in his smile.

“Thank you,” he let out in a breath.

“Happy birthday, Andy.”

You smiled at each other, and then Katie brought a knife for the cake. You saw how he carefully placed your gifts down, how his eyes lingered on them.

After the cake was eaten, it was already time to leave for the pub. You helped Andrew carry his presents to his car and were alone with him for a moment. Once all his gifts were safely placed in his trunk, you were about to walk back to the house, when Andrew called you back.

He stared at you for a moment, as if he were looking for the right words to say.

“I just… I just wanted to thank you. For your presents.”

You gave him a bright smile.

“It’s nothing, Andy.”

His expression softened, but there was something a little sad in his gaze as well, a longing he couldn’t refrain.

“It isn’t nothing. These… These were very special. Thank you.”

“I simply wanted to finally keep my markers.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head.

“I wasn’t talking about the markers, although that was funny. I didn’t even know those notebooks existed…”

“Oh, I ordered it. Like… I chose the quote to add on the cover. I thought… I thought it was fitting. I hoped it would help you write.”

You saw his eyes glistening, noticed the tears that gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“That’s really sweet. Thanks,” he spoke with such a soft, loving voice, you could feel your heart melt. “And the books… that’s really fucking perfect. Thank you.”

You grinned, feeling relieved that he liked your gifts. You weren’t expecting him to move closer though, it took you a couple of seconds to reciprocate his hug when he wrapped his arms around you.

You tried hard not to be overwhelmed by his scent, something woody and earthy that fitted him perfectly; by his warmth; by the feeling of his arms around you and his hands splayed over your shoulder blade and your back. They felt so big on your body, and you couldn’t help but feel safe under their touch…

“Thank you. For everything,” he whispered into your ear, his deep, low voice making your heart miss a few beats. “For coming today, for being here, for… everything.”

You tightened your hold on him.

“Thank you, Andy.”

You held onto each other for a long while, unaware of his friends seeing you and deciding not to interrupt whatever was going on. When he broke your embrace, Andrew leaned down to kiss your cheek, his touch feathery across your skin.

You hoped he didn’t notice how you couldn’t breathe…

The pub held a larger crowd than what you had expected. It had a decent acoustic, Katie told you, and some nice whiskey. You were high on laughter and the rest of the wine from dinner though; you decided not to drink alcohol for the rest of the night. You wanted to enjoy Andrew’s performance, and you needed your head to be clear for that. You had only a vague idea of what would be sung tonight. Some traditional songs at first, Sheila had mentioned The Humours of Whiskey and The Parting Glass. Then there would be covers of jazz, blues and rock songs.

You were so excited about this, you were buzzing with energy, your legs slightly shaking.

And then it was showtime.

They all walked on the small stage, the crowd gathered in the pub cheering loudly. Andrew was so tall on that tiny space, although Alex kind of balanced his friend’s impressive height with his own. Andrew greeted the crowd, and you were surprised to find that he didn’t seem so shy on stage, compared to how he usually was. He picked up a guitar, and the show began.

And God, what a show it was.

They were good. Like… actually good. And Andrew’s voice was so deep and powerful, he had something magnetic about him while he was on that stage. You understood now why everyone kept on saying that if he didn’t make it as a professional it was not by lack of talent, but by choice. He was truly impressive. You could only stare at him, the world forgotten except for him. His long hair flowing as he moved around the stage, the kicking of his feet with the rhythm of the song, the three undone buttons of his white shirt, the way he stared at you sometimes, glance darkened compared to its usual softness. And then he threw his head back as he played electric guitar, revealing the ivory column of his neck and damn…

… you had not been so turned on in years.

You were struggling to breathe as you watched him, as you sang along, as you danced with the crowd. When Andrew stared directly into your eyes as he sang in a growl, you were certain that your legs would give way from under you.

There was no denying possible left, there was no way you could try to fool yourself into thinking about Frank when Andrew was on stage singing like that and looking like that…

And then the tone shifted, the next song was quieter, a folk song for which he played acoustic guitar while he sang with so much emotion you started to actually cry…

Christ, you liked him. You liked him. Perhaps… perhaps even a little more than liked…

Andrew was beyond tipsy at that stage but he was allowed to drink without caution tonight, it was his birthday after all. And the gig was brilliant, he and his friends had been so good, the crowd was full of energy, he was high on adrenaline. And you… God, you were a ray of sunshine, now more than ever. Beautiful, radiant, and you fitted so well in his group of friends, and your gifts were so thoughtful, you were so funny like this, tipsy and about to fall into proper drunk, and you were just… you were…

“Andy, next time you and your friends have a gig, you need to tell me!” you ordered, looking serious despite how your words were a little slurred. “This was amazing! You were amazing!”

He blushed, but the liquor he had been drinking helped him accept the compliments.

“Thanks,” he gave you a smug smile and a wink, almost certain to have heard your breath stagger as he did.

“Alex told me he’ll have a gig in Dublin next month. We’re going!”

Andrew laughed, raised a surprised eyebrow.

“’We’?”

“Me, you… Katie and Rory are coming too…”

“I didn’t even know he had a gig yet… You signed me up?”

“You were already signed up, Alex said you always come. He looked so disappointed not to be able to come to your reading session for your poems.”

“Yeah, he’s all the way to Glasgow at the time. That’s alright, he’s seen plenty of those.”

You nodded brought your glass to your lips and only then noticed that it was empty.

“Oh! I need a refill! Want another beer?”

Andrew finished his glass in one large gulp, then nodded.

“Thanks.”

You giggled, leaned closer to confess something, and Andrew bent slightly as well, curious to know what you were up to.

“Can I make a confession?”

“’Course.”

“You were really hot out there.”

He raised an eyebrow, hiding badly the way his heart stumbled in his chest, the way he struggled to breathe…

He tried to control how his body reacted to this statement, he was in the middle of a busy pub after all, but it was difficult to do so…

“Really?” he asked, trying to sound smug and cool, when he was effectively struggling against his urge to simply smash his lips into yours and kiss you until none of you could breathe, and you could go to his car and be alone there…

You nodded.

“Not too bad, Andy. Not too bad.”

You gave him a flirtatious smile, before pulling away and heading straight to the bar.

Bloody hell…

He took a couple of deep breaths, tried to gather his wits.

You were just letting loose because you were drunk, this was nothing. He couldn’t let a two-minutes long flirt get to his head…

As a cold shower, his phone buzzed in his pocket and when he looked at the screen, the pixelated name of Sam’s was shining brightly in the dim light of the pub.

He hesitated to pick up, searched for you again. There were lots of people at the bar ordering drinks, you were patiently waiting for your turn.

He heaved a sigh, picked up the call.

“Sam? Everything alright?”

“Hi, Andy! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” he nodded, looking down at the tip of his white converse shoes.

“How are you doing? Celebrating?”

“Hmm… yeah, I’m out with the band, we had a gig tonight in Bray.”

“Awesome! Sounds fun!”

“Yeah, ‘s fun.”

“So… you played tonight?”

“Yeah, yeah… we had a full house. It was grand. Really grand, like… yeah…”

Sam giggled on the phone.

“You’ll need some water in the morning, you seem to be heavily celebrating.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to have the whole gang together, you know?”

“Be careful when you head home, okay? You’re staying in Bray for the night, right?”

“’Course, at Katie’s.”

“Good. That’s good. Be careful. Have fun, but be careful.”

“Sure will.”

This was such a normal exchange, why was he surprised by it? They used to have these kind of phone calls, back in college… why did he feel like she was holding back?

“By the way, while I have you… I wanted to ask you, for the wedding…”

Ha, there it was. What he had been expecting.

“Frank and I need to talk to you about the songs you’re gonna play at the wedding. We’ve made a little list, we need to see with you if it’s all okay.”

Play? The wedding?

God, he had forgotten about that… early on, right after the announcement, she had asked him to sing. He had completely forgotten about that.

And it hit him in the face then, how ridiculous that was. She had broken up with him to marry another guy, she had never come to his gigs, and she wanted him to sing at her wedding now?

But what did Andrew want? None of that… he didn’t want any of that…

“Look, Sam, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“What? I’m sorry, the noises of the pub are very loud, I didn’t get that.”

Andrew didn’t want to raise his voice. He checked on you, but you were still waiting to reach the bar and order drinks. He made a bee line towards the exit.

The air was cold outside, the little alley at the back of the pub narrow and badly lit by a single, tired lamppost. A couple was kissing against the wall a few meters away. The alley stank, a mixture of cheap beer, urine and cigarettes, but Andrew didn’t pay much attention to it.

“I was saying… like… I’m not so sure it’s a good idea for me to sing at your wedding, Sam.”

“What? You said you’d do it!”

“Yeah… but… honestly, it doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“Why not? You said you would! I want you there!”

“Do you?”

“What?”

He didn’t want to get angry. This evening was perfect, this day was perfect…

He didn’t back down, though. He was too drunk to be polite or cautious, to mind whether his words could be hurtful or not. He clenched his jaw, spoke his mind.

“Sam, you never came to my gigs, to my poetry readings, to anything that had to deal with my artistic endeavours… and now that you need a musician you want me to sing? That doesn’t sound fair. If you weren’t interested in hearing me sing for the past seven years, then you won’t be interested in hearing me sing at your wedding either.”

“I… I’ve always thought you had talent. It’s not my fault you didn’t pursue music…”

“It’s not what I’m saying. I still sang at gigs regularly after taking this decision. You didn’t come. You never came.”

“If it bothered you, why didn’t you tell me?”

Andrew’s eyes drifted back to the black door he had just crossed, thought of you and his friends all gathered in the bar, a group that loved him and supported him throughout everything…

He deserved better than Sam. He deserved so much better than her. And he had better. He had his friends, his parents…

God, perhaps, one day, he would have you…

“I shouldn’t have had to tell my long-time partner that it hurt me that she didn’t care about the things I love. I shouldn’t have had to tell you to come, Sam. You should have wanted to come. You should have loved me better. Get someone else for your wedding, I’m not singing.”

Before she could reply, Andrew had hung up, turned off his phone so he wouldn’t be bothered by it again, and then he walked back into the pub.

You were standing where Andrew was a minute ago, two beers in your hands, looking around in search for him, a puzzled frown on your brow. You grinned when you spotted him.

“I thought you were gone,” you pouted, handing him his new drink.

“’Course not. Just went to the bathroom.”

You nodded.

“Rory and Alex are challenging us at darts. Come kick their arses with me!”

Andrew laughed at that.

“Oh, hell yeah! Come on! Let’s get these losers begging for mercy!”

You gave him a toothy, excited grin.

“I’m so happy you invited me, Andy!”

His heart melted, there was so much love for you there…

And he knew he shouldn’t have used that pet name, it wasn’t reasonable to yield into that kind of intimacy when you weren’t his. You weren’t his… even if he was already yours…

Still, it was his birthday, and you were so beautiful, so kind, and there was so much love for you there, in his heart, that he yielded and said it anyway.

“I’m glad you came, love. I’m really grateful you came.”

[dreamingsnowflake2013]

Demon Daddy really said "My body, my choice." LOL. Also, me being a huge LOTR fan, I literally hear the follow-up of those words "It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart."

Even though the whole thing is a plot to mislead the Dragon Princess, ZYC means every single word he utters. He's being completely vulnerable and open; his feelings and sentiments are real and, in the end, WX and ZYZ get carried away by his heartfelt sincerity. He makes the lie real. Because, let's face it, eventually it will come down to it and ZYZ will do something like half-killing himself to help ZYZ, especially since it really looks like he wants to use the scale to save WX who might have really been poisoned.

The sword is his family heirloom, the one thing he truly connects with his older brother, and everyone wants that sword, but he would throw it away without any hesitation, if repairing it meant hurting ZYZ or him dying. Honestly, it almost looks like he is totally fine with it, getting rid of the possibility of him having to kill him with it one day.

He is so adamant about and steadfast in that he won't allow ZYZ to sacrifice himself for him, and in a way, he is actually picking him over BJ, or rather he could give up on BJ rather than save him at all costs.

Translation: "You are more precious to me than anything in the entire world." FETCH MY SMELLING SALTS!

ZYC's words shake ZYZ to his core, it floors him that someone would choose him, the most evil great demon, above everything, that he would even choose him over the adorable BJ.

Demon Daddy thought he would show an Oscar-worthy performance, but he ends up going through the most intense therapy session of his life. All these words are everything he needed to hear in those past 8 years so much, but didn't know it.

Look at him! How much it means to him! How much he drinks those words in! WX and ZYC are unbreaking ZYZ's heart that shattered to pieces a long time ago and putting it back together. The fact that ZYC would turn against his friends and fight for HIM of all people, defend him, protect him, without any weapon, just using his body!

[morganas-pendragons]

To be Held | Gil-Galad

Summary: You are Gil-Galad's most trusted warrior. With the centuries of history between you two - and the multiple wars you have both survived before and during his rule - it is hard for you to ignore the obvious: You are his complement, his other half, the shield to his sword. You two work as a unit. Everyone in Lindon knows it.

So what happens when he comes close to losing half of that unit?

Set during S2 of ROP - loosely AU to episode 8 (we don't go into the courtyards of Eregion)

tag: @wild-typo-turtle @celebrimbormylove @pentaghasm

You are one of the earliest memories of his younger years as an ellon. The years where he'd been living in the Grey Havens under the watchful eye of the Shipmaster, a young Elf named Artanaro who had nothing left but himself and the clothes on his back.

You had become a soldier at a very early age, taking to the spear with a gracefulness and poise unlike any of your other comrades who served alongside you in the war. You were raised in the heat of battle. Armor was your skin. Your weapon, your hands.

He admired you deeply. Your training commander at the time had noticed that the two of you were the only ones to take to the spear, and so it came to pass that you were often paired together for spars.

For sparring, for the front, for training. The other Elves whispered about you and how formidable you were as a unit the fields of war.

“What will you call yours?”

You watched him turn the weapon over in his hands. Once, twice, three times, long fingers flexing as it spun for him to properly admire the craftsmanship of the spear that had just been granted to him.

“Aeglos,” The Elvish word rolled off his tongue with an awe that made you shiver. You knew as well as he did that he would be known for being Aeglo’s wielder, among what other accomplishments he took to throughout his years. “It has a number of meanings, Mellon. For this one, however, I think snow thorn is more than appropriate.”

It fits him.

You averted your gaze away from him, desperate to keep your composure as you peered down at the spear in your own hands. He had such a deeply penetrating gaze. That unnerved you. You had to be unflappable. Something such as affection or love could not dare to make you weak.

You would not risk weakness on the field. You would not risk having something to lose.

“I think I have its name,” You announced. “I’ll call it Telmnar.”

Ereinion tilted his head curiously. He was not familiar with that term. “And what does that translate to?”

“Fire of Heaven.”

As the years passed, you took to chaos and disorder. Ereinion Gil-Galad took to the art of ruling much, much later in life with a firm hand and a soft heart. He never lost his spirit. Neither did you.

On the field, the pair of you were a force to be reckoned with. One unit. That’s what Elrond had said the first time he’d seen the two of you fight in the sparring yards of Lindon.

Gil-Galad just hadn’t expected the paralyzing fear that came with nearly losing the other half of your unit.

He sees you fall from across the battlefield. There are so few of you left, so many Elven bodies that litter the grounds of a scorched battlefield that Gil-Galad is sure will be their ruin. Elrond is catatonic over the Dwarvish army. You are fueled by your fury, helm hiding the fire he knows lights your eyes as you spin Telmnar with all the grace of poise of a practiced soldier.

Despite the destruction, you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. That is why Ereinion is so shaken when he sees the blade pierce your side through the gaps in your armor. A roar echoes across the battlefield as you twist your body to dismember the offending orc, Telmnar faltering in your grasp as it impales the body at the same time you fall to the earth.

Everything seems to blur together after that. Elrond is the one to rush toward you once clarity reaches him once again, removing the chest piece of your armor to better ascertain the severity of your injuries.

"Ereinion," You whisper. "Tell Ereinion..."

Telmnar gleams out of the corner of your eye as a hand reaches down to remove the spear from the body before laying it down beside Aeglos. They really are beautiful blades: A perfect pair for the best unit that the Elven armies had ever seen.

“Tell him what?” Elrond asks. He wants to keep you awake for as long as possible before blood loss sends you into unconsciousness.

Tears prick the back of your eyes. You’ve spent centuries trying so hard to keep your weaknesses out of harms way, to bury that secret you have kept of growing affections for Gil-Galad so he too would not come to be a name among the list of those you’ve loved and lost.

“He was never my weakness,” You whisper. “He was always my strength.”

"We may have lost many today, sweet friend," Elrond's voice is the only thing keeping you awake as he works to staunch the flow of blood from your body. "But you will not be among them."

You think of Gil-Galad, of Celebrimbor and Arondir, of Galadriel. They will not be able to take Adar on their own. They will need all the men they can muster.

Your innate desire to protect those you love is what coaxes you to move amid Elrond's healing, but not before a firm hand presses you back down into the ground and cradles your head in its embrace. Your eyes slowly shift across the open expanse of sky above you until your gaze falls on the dark eyes of the High King of the Noldor.

“Don’t move.” He commands, firm but soft as his fingers flex around your shoulder. “We will work diligently. Rest.”

Relief washes over you as you raise your fingers to graze his cheek. All you can see is blood and dirt, none of that smooth pale skin you’ve grown so accustomed to over the years.

He’s murmuring something low in Quenya as his hand comes upon your wound, and your eyes roll back into your head as Gil-Galad’s healing begins to seal what damage has been done. Elrond stands beside in waiting for the administration of bandages and salves so it will heal well.

The fingers of his free hand card through your hair as you fall unconscious in Gil-Galad’s capable hands.

***

When you first wake, there is a song on the wind. You’re being carried on a stretcher through what appears to be a path through a valley with elves on either side of you.

Panic rushes through your body until you recognize the voice that the wind carries. Gil-Galad has known since you were young that music was one of your only means of coping as it often brought you such serenity. Especially if the music came from him, his lips, his soul.

“Be well, my friend.” It is Camnir’s voice you hear closest to you instead as his face comes into view at your feet. Why the cartographer is here, you remain unsure, but your exhaustion is softened by the sight of his young face. “The High King is nearby. You are safe. I will wake you once we arrive at our destination.”

Your windpipe feels as if it has been pressed upon and your mouth forced open to swallow handfuls of sand. Despite that discomfort, you swallow and ask, “Is he safe?”

Camnir nods. “Indeed. Be peaceful. We are nearly there.”

You fall asleep once again with Aeglos and Telmnar on your mind.

***

There is warmth the next time you wake.

You’re careful not to aggravate your wound as you slowly shift your weight and rub your hands over your eyes to adjust to the dim light of the tent. Night has fallen, as you can tell from the shadows outside, but you did not expect to find The High King fast asleep with his hand gently laying on top of yours.

You smile. Not many are privileged to see him like this. It reminds you of your younger years, when you and Ereinion were just getting to know one another during your time in the Grey Havens. The pair of you had been far more curious than Círdan had cared for. The Shipwright had never complained. He simply remained grateful that someone cared as much for his charge as you did.

Gil-Galad shifts as you slowly kick your legs off the cot and reach outward to card your fingers through his hair. “Ereinion,” You whisper. Dark eyes flutter open and widen as he realizes you are awake, and it takes all of his willpower not to ask you a million questions as you hold a hand up to silence him. “Are you okay?”

The crease between his brow deepens as you run your thumb along his jaw.

“I believe it should be me asking you that,” He replies quietly. “You gave me quite a scare. I do not think I have experienced fear such as that watching you fall since we were young.”

Your earnest expression crumples almost instantly. “Gil-Galad-“

“You told Elrond to tell me something,” Now fully awake, the High King of the Noldor shifts his seat so that he’s planted directly in front of you, hands hovering over your thighs as he settles into the natural part of your legs. “What was it?”

Your mind shifts back to the early days. The days before the wars had ruined you, had cost the lives of so many people you loved, when it was just you and Ereinion against the forces of darkness and those who tried to tear you down.

The perfect unit, they’d called you.

Ereinion holds his breath as your hand, shaking as it may be, extends towards him to cup his face. “Do you remember all those years ago when I told you that the likelihood of me taking a partner was slim because I was not willing to have a weakness that could distract me on the battlefield?” You ask. He nods, transfixed by your face as your fingers gently trace the line of his jaw. “I’ve had one for centuries now. I have just never breathed a word about it.”

Hope flickers behind those dark eyes. “Do not utter that which you do not wish to come to fruition, nin meld.”

“Why?”

You dip your head down, fingers tangling in dark hair as he tips his head up to hover mere inches above your mouth. Your heart pounds with anticipation as you both waver against the line that was drawn centuries ago: the line that will forever change the two of you once you dare to take that risk.

“Because once you do, you can’t take it back.” Gil-Galad utters so softly you almost don’t hear it.

“I could not take back my affections for you. I would not dare. You’ve had my heart since Círdan introduced us. You are my weakness… and you are my strength, my hope-“

His kiss is bruising as he closes the gap between the two of you, surging upward to stand to his feet and cup your face in his hands. He is so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to properly kiss him, but you don’t think you could ever quite tire of the fire behind which he kisses you.

“You are my salvation from this wretched life,” Ereinion whispers, relishing in the sweet sound of your whimper as he holds you there, helpless to do nothing but allow his mouth to trail across your jaw and down your neck. He is mindful to not aggravate your injury further lest Elrond have his hide for doing so. “And so I take that weakness willingly if it means I have the privilege to love you all my days.”

You smile sweetly at him and nod as his trail ends at your forehead before you part.

“You’re tired.” You point to the cot beside you that’s open. “Bring that over here.”

“I have to attend to duties elsewhere-“

You give him a pointed look. “Cleaning Aeglos and Telmnar can wait. There’s so many of us injured, and you cannot attend to your duties without having a few hours of sleep. You cannot function.”

He hesitates before acquiescing to your demand. Galadriel is being tended to by Elrond, Arondir is coordinating patrols, and the rest of Eregion’s survivors are taken care of at least for the night. He will sleep much more peacefully - and hopefully avoid nightmares about Celebrimbor - being able to feel your breathing under his fingers.

“Very well.”

When Elrond comes looking for his King, he is not surprised to find him with you, but he is surprised to find that Gil-Galad has indeed fallen asleep in the cot beside yours. You are sitting up in your own cot drinking the mint tea provided by the healers with a smug expression on your face as you meet his eyes.

Your other hand loosely cards through Ereinions hair as he moves himself closer to your leg, forehead pressed against your knee in sleep.

“Should I ask?” Elrond queries, laughing quietly under his breath as you playfully narrow your eyes.

“Keep walking, Peredhel. Nothing to see here.”

He will allow his King that respite for tonight. He deserves the comfort of being held by someone he loves.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Remina.

Yan Blade x GN (Mara-Struck) (Stellaron Hunter) Reader.

Synopsis: You know Yingxing, but you know Blade more and more with each passing day.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, descriptions of violence (not against the reader), mentions of Blade/the reader's want to die, and descriptions of the reader’s want for violence.

Word Count: 1k.

@knockout2483 here you go!! <33333

*~*~*~*

SELF-DESTRUCT FUNCTION UNAUTHORIZED.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

PROCEEDING WILL CAUSE 24.25 MILLION UHLUHTC SPIDER SPAWN TO SPREAD FROM SECTOR SEVEN TO SECTORS ONE THROUGH ELEVEN, BUT NOT SECTORS ZERO, TWELVE, AND THIRTEEN.

TO PROCEED, PLEASE CLICK THESE KEYS IN THE FOLLOWING ORDER: FIVE, TWO, SIX-

*~*~*~*

Blade knows you went too far with this.

You know too – at least he thinks so; your mara-struck state has always been harder for Kafka to subdue.

“What a nuisance.” You spit out as you drag your sword back and forth across the thing blocking you from destroying the tower’s controller beyond repair. Blade’s hand. His palm is bright red and makes gut-wrenching noises yet he does not move or make a sound. “You never let me do things my way.”

“Please don’t speak to me like that.” He responds as his uninjured hand pulls layer after layer of the bandages that prevent his blood from pouring all across the concrete floor. “You don’t want to do this. At least to them. To us, even.”

You have now lost a majority of your once silver weapon – Blade’s hand regenerated just enough for you to be rendered powerless. Or at the very least powerless compared to him and the other Stellaron Hunters.

*~*~*~*

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“The hell are you talking about, Yingxing?”

“Do you really want to watch this world burn again?” You let go of your handle, wincing like you just touched something straight out of a forge. Hell maybe – that would be more entertaining right now rather than being sat down and lectured again by someone who more or less shares the same ailments as you. A craving for bloodshed. A need for chaos to be unleashed upon an undeservedly orderly land. A body that will never die no matter how much the soul has eroded.

A desperate want to die.

All of them are uncontrollable though you are undecided about the last – self-inflicted death can be perceived as a sin, not a sacrifice for the greater good, in most of the planets you have been an unwelcome guest to.

Kraftluv II. A planet the perfect distance away from both Jarilo-VI and the Xianzhou Luofu – wedged in between them in exactly equal amounts according to countless mathematical studies.

You’re forbidden to enter the latter of the two per Kafka’s orders. Firefly told you that if you do all your assignments before the next meeting – the ‘assignments’ in question being gathering gifts for Silver Wolf because you accidentally broke one of her game consoles – you could be allowed to go fishing with her.

Firefly doesn’t know how to fish. Even if she did, you would much rather use your teeth instead of some lousy string attached to a carved tree branch.

*~*~*~*

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“What I’m saying is,” Blade puts his arm to his side. Blood still rolls down from the edge of your sword and this time makes a small puddle just in front of his dirty shoes. “You’re supposed to be on good behavior. Even if you and I don’t get scolded, you’ll come to regret it after you return from lunacy. Me too.”

You don’t look at him, instead opting to stand up on your toes to get a better look at the machine you want to tear to pieces so badly.

Blade in turn moves his head to a diagonal so he can at least try to get you to focus on him. You murmur more curses under your breath than usual. He sighs but doesn’t attempt to correct your language this time. In the past, Kafka would giggle and pat your head as she dodged you using your nails to scratch her numerous times. Silver Wolf wouldn’t bat an eye because her connection to her games is more important than anything going on around her or beyond the stars she could see. Firefly would have her mouth wide open in shock at the sheer complexity of the Xianzhou Luofu’s lexicon when it comes to swearing. 

“Do you want to hurt all these people again? It hasn’t even been a year since you unleashed Silver Wolf’s virus onto Sector Eight. Without her permission, may I add.” In a smooth motion, Blade pulls your weapon out from his body – in a mere blink of an eye, a scar replaces the rather large crevice. The bandages are applied once again. He didn’t have to peel them off to begin with but he wanted you to see another example of what he is supposed to do to keep you in line.

*~*~*~*

TO PROCEED, PLEASE CLICK THESE KEYS IN THE FOLLOWING ORDER: FIVE, TWO, SIX, FOUR, SIX, ONE, THREE, FIVE, EIGHT, NINE, ZERO, ZERO, SIX. 

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

TO CANCEL, PLEASE CLICK THE ESCAPE KEY.

*~*~*~*

“Alright.” You answer after a while. He still keeps your blade above his head to prevent you from doing anything brash. “I’ll cancel it.” 

The light in your eyes starts to fade back into normalcy. The moon rises above the tower – a merciful gift to reward your teammate for putting up with your uncontrollable behavior. Blade makes a note to bring multiple blindfolds next time for when you two are in similarly sunny worlds.

“Can we go get dessert though?”

For once, Blade chuckles at the awkward timing. You always have a way to cheer him up somehow, not that you ever notice it.

“Sure,” He answers. “On me this time?”

“No… I’ll pay.”

“As you wish.”

[crazyvik97rpg]

They got all comfy around Sebastian's bed - it was so lovely to see them all here, Sebastian was still amazed they surprised him like that. He could smell the flowers from here, William sat right beside him too, and he had delicious chocolate - no more boring porridge or soup. He would have to ask the nurses if he was allowed chocolate but...well, he assumed it was alright.

They spoke more about what was to come now, after the surgery. Recovery was the main focus now, it would very well take him a few weeks to be back to full health completely. William explained that he would need follow-up treatments, just to make sure they didn't overlook anything, minimize the risk of any undetected cancer cells spreading again. It sounded easy enough - yet Sebastian was sure they would both lose much more sleep over this.

Their friends nodded understandingly, they all honestly had these looks on their faces - worried and sad, it was not great news, really. But there was also a bright side - and they had come to cheer Sebastian up after all. "But hey, that's already great news", Eric spoke up first, smiling again, "Cancer is gone, you were lucky it didn't spread anywhere else. And...well, I'm absolutely sure whatever treatments you do, you'll make it through just fine as well. You're a tough guy, Seb, you can take it. From what you told us, you took a lot so far, so this will be a piece of cake", he smiled encouragingly. It made Sebastian smile too.

"Yea, well...thank you for saying that, but...it wasn't me all alone. I really wouldn't have made it so far without William", Sebastian spoke then and looked at his boyfriend with such loving eyes, "As you can imagine, this whole thing really took a lot from me mentally as well. But William is my biggest support, I couldn't possibly do it without him. He probably saved me just by spotting that mole on my back back then. All alone I wouldn't have noticed a thing. And...then the appointments...they were tough, this...all of this really fucks you up mentally. But he was there, always".

As he spoke, he just kept admiring William, squeezing his hand - eventually he let go of his hand though and raised his arm, gently cupped his cheek and rubbed it gently with his thumb. Ronald had to admit, he was touched by Sebastian's words - and yet incredibly weirded out be the way he touched William during. This looked so incredibly intimate and...weird, when it was these two.

William reacted - and that had to put the final nail in the coffin - with the words 'Aw, darling...' Nobody reacted. And thus, Ronald couldn't take it anymore. Was he crazy or something, what was going on? He just had to...somehow react to this, to tickle any kind of reaction out of the others.

"Haha, okay, woah. Guys, that feels like I'm interrupting something", he snorted, glancing at the others now for some kind of reaction, "Am I right, guys? Haha".

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[theshadowsingersraven]

꧁༺ 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓘 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓸𝓸

𝓢𝓸 𝓘 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾 ༻꧂

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Absolutely in love with this breathtaking piece of Solara and Azriel by @azeher ! I could not have asked for a better piece, and the fact that she was able to get it done earlier than expected for Azriel Week was genuinely so lovely. I adored working with her, and if you're looking to secure yourself some beautiful art, I recommend her wholeheartedly 🙏🏻 💙

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Happy Day Five of Azriel Appreciation Week: No Need for Poetry! Of course, I'm going to be biased, but my favorite Azriel ship is the one I made myself. 💗 I love their dynamic, the way they support, trust, balance, challenge, and simultaneously heal one another. I think there's something a little extra unique about staying with someone in their darkness instead of leading them out of it. Instead, waiting by their side until they're ready to go on their own until they can confidently take the same path you did. And when that path is just as bloody as theirs, and they love you so much...it's a way for them to realize that perhaps they were never the monster they once thought they were.

@azrielappreciationweek

If you want to see more of them, check out A Court of Storms and Ravens on AO3! ✨️🗡🐦‍⬛💙🖤⚔️✨️

Also posted on Instagram

[lettre-romantiques]

7#-> 💌: a letter has arrived from satoru gojo.

dear y/n,

pretty abrupt.. if this gets through, if you're not bawling your pretty little eyes out then i am dead. i know it's a little sudden to start this letter off but.. i don't wanna sugarcoat it because i know it’s going to hurt you more than i can even imagine. i didn’t want it to end like this, not like this, but here we are. and honestly, after everything, i think i’m okay with it.

i don’t want you to feel anger right now. i don’t want you to feel regret. this isn’t your fault. if there’s anyone to blame, it’s me. it’s always been me. i knew the risks, i knew what i was up against, but i kept pushing forward. i know this isn’t how you’d want to hear it. i know you’re going to hate me for leaving you with nothing but these words. this letter is all i have left to give you. i know it won’t make up for anything. but i’m trying, in the only way i know how. if there’s any justice in this world, you’ll get it. for me, for us. and maybe, just maybe, it’ll be enough to make things right again.

i think about what could’ve been. what we could’ve had. you and me. together. free from all of this. i’d take you away, y/n, if i could. to somewhere safe, somewhere quiet. no more curses, no more fighting, no more deaths. just us, finally living a life without the weight of the world on our shoulders. but it’s not going to happen, is it? the way things are, the way the world works, it was always a dream. too big. too much. something even i wasn’t able to achieve.

but.. y/n, it’s strange. the moment i saw my own blood, the moment i knew this was it, i realized something. for all the years i’ve spent knowing to be invincible, the one thing i never considered was the idea of you. of you being the one who’d have to pick up the pieces. of you carrying the weight of everything i couldn’t save. and i need you to know this isn’t your burden to bear.

i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i really am, you were the most wonderful partner i could ever be with.

if i could have stayed, i would’ve. you know that. but that’s not how it ended. i want you to live. i want you to find a way to be happy again. i don’t care how long it takes, or how hard it is. i want you to find that peace, even if i’m not there to see it.

you deserve justice for everything. for the pain, for the loss, for the rage you’ll feel when you read these words and realize you won’t ever get another chance to hold me again. i don’t know if this world will ever be just. i don’t know if they’ll ever pay for what they did to us. but i trust you to do what needs to be done. you always were the better one, even if you didn’t know it. just don’t lose yourself. that’s all i ask of you.

this letter is all i have left to give you. and i know it won’t make up for anything. i wish i could say more. i wish i could say goodbye in a way that wouldn’t leave you crying. i wish i could be there to hold you, to kiss you, to tell you that i love you one more time. but this is all i have left. these words. and maybe, just maybe, they’ll be enough to make sure you know how much i loved you, though i understand that’ll be unlikely. but i hope that, one day, you’ll read this and know that i loved you. that i will always love you.

listen, i know you’re going to fight. i know that rage is going to take over you— the same rage that’s been inside me during this time. but please, please don’t let it consume you. don’t let it make you lose yourself. i don’t want you to become someone else because of me. i don’t want you to walk down the same path that i did, believing that the only way to get justice is through bloodshed. you’re better than that. you always were.

this is it. there’s a part of me that wishes i could have done more, that wishes i could have fought harder, that wishes i could have come up with some plan, some way to get us both out of this hellhole of a world. but i’m done pretending. i’m done trying to outsmart fate.

i know what’s coming, y/n. and i’ve made peace with it. maybe it’s because i’ve been facing the inevitable for so long that it’s not as terrifying as it should be. but that doesn’t mean i’m not afraid. i’m afraid of leaving you behind. i’m afraid of not being able to make things right. i’m afraid of knowing that you’ll have to live without me.

i’m sorry. i’m sorry i couldn’t be there for you. i’m sorry that this world took me from you. but i want you to keep going. for me. for us. please, y/n. keep living. for me. for us. find a way to heal. find a way to move forward. i won’t be there to help you. i won’t be there to hold your hand, but i’ll always be with you in the pieces of your heart. i’ll always be there, just like i promised.

i know how this sounds. i know how it feels to read words on a page that won’t ever bring me back, and that’s the hardest thing about this. i’m writing this to you, and it’s just a letter. it’s all i have. but i need you to understand that you have so much more than this. you have everything you need to keep going.

i’m so fucking sorry. forgive me, please. forgive me for leaving you like this, for doing this to you. i never wanted to hurt you. i never wanted to put you through any of this. but here we are. and now, this is the reality we’re facing. i know it’s not fair. nothing about this is.

i wish i could’ve seen your smile once more. it’s imprinted in my brain, like a photo i can’t shake, but no matter how hard i try, it’s never enough. every time i close my eyes, i can still picture it— that soft, cute smile that always makes everything feel okay. you have no idea how much it means to me, y/n. that smile, that light, it was the one thing i could hold onto when everything around me seemed dark. i’ve spent so much of my life chasing after something, trying to make a difference. but in the end, it was you. your smile. your warmth. that was the real answer, the thing that kept me grounded. and now, knowing i’ll never see it again, it’s like a part of me is missing. i’ll carry it with me, but it's not the same. i want to hold onto that memory forever, but i can’t shake the feeling that it’s slipping away. and that hurts more than i can put into words.

goodness, i’m tearing up, how silly. ironic.

there’s so much i love about you. it’s impossible to list it all, but if i could, i would tell you about the way your eyes light up when you laugh, how it’s like the whole world falls away and nothing else matters. i love the way you’re always thinking of others, even when you’re carrying your own weight. you never asked for the world to be this way, and yet, you still choose to fight. i love how you challenge me, how you make me want to be better, even when i thought i was already everything i could be. but more than that, i love how you loved me. even when i was too reckless, too wild, too lost. when i couldn’t even love myself fully, you made me believe that i was worth something.

you made me feel like i was home. i don’t think i’ve ever truly felt like i belonged after suguru, somewhere until i met you. with you, i could finally breathe. i could finally let my guard down. there’s something about the way you hold me, like everything’s going to be okay, even when it’s not. i’ll carry that feeling with me, y/n, even as i’m fading away. it’s the only thing that gives me peace right now.

but damn, it hurts knowing i’ll never get to hold you like that again, to hear your voice call my name, to feel your hand in mine. the world’s going to keep turning, and i won’t be there for you when you need me most. and that breaks me more than anything. but if you can, if you can find a way to move on, just know that i’ll always be in your heart. always. even if it feels like i’m gone, know that a part of me will always be with you. it’s just the part of me that loves you most.

i’m sorry for not being there. when i wasn’t there for the quiet moments, the ones that mattered most. and now, all i have is this— these words, these apologies, and a lifetime of regret i won’t get to undo. i’m sorry for the pain i caused you, for all the times i didn’t

show up when i promised i would. i’m sorry i made you feel alone in the one thing that should’ve brought us together. at least our last conversation we had wasn’t a big fight. i’m glad for that. but i’m also sad that will be our last.

but hey, i'm gonna die with a smile. not because it's easy, obviously, but because i'm okay with it, because for a second, just for a second, i had something real. something worth fighting for. we had our good moments, right? those little pieces of time where everything felt right, when it was just you and me against the world. i wouldn't trade that for anything. so yeah, i’m smiling, even now, because i got to love you. even if it’s only for a moment, it’s more than some people ever get. and that’s enough for me.

goodbye, my sweetheart. don’t forget me.

i love you.

from, satoru gojo.

p.s. i love you. more than i’ll ever be able to put into words. and in the end, that’s all i really have to give you. my love. always and forever.