#this is so wonderfully beautifully human

[ellcrys]

Recreating a Bygone China, One Miniature Home at a Time

China’s rapid economic growth has meant the demolition of countless rural homes, and a burgeoning nostalgia. That’s where the miniaturists come in.

[mooncleaver]

Tender Mornings

you know it's a good day when the first sight you're greeted with is azriel sprawled out so beautifully on your bed.

ღ pairing: azriel x fem!reader 

ღ warnings: very loosely cannonical pls don't ask i live in my dreams, fluff after fluff in your face, they’re MATED AND MARRIED!! 🥰 touchy azriel

"Good morning, handsome."

Your voice murmurs into Azriel's ears early in the morning, waking him out of his peaceful slumber. It's a quiet day, and definitely not the kind of quiet you'd be alerted by, hackles raised and ears perked for signs of danger. No, this was peace. The birds are chirping and the distant sounds of city bustle has just begun its routine, and you can't help but stare at your mate, the absence of fine lines on his forehead creating one of the most endearing pictures in your mind.

Honestly, you don't know how you've managed to slip out of his iron grip a few hours ago. Even his shadows had been relatively calm. But you pieced it to him finally getting his well-deserved sleep after a grueling week of running around as spymaster for Night Court. He'd almost collapsed right on top of you on the couch the moment he got home at the dead of night, practically purring under you into a dreamless sleep while you ran your hands through his hair. You love it when he's just Azriel with you. Not the deadly shadowsinger with eyes that could kill, but the one snoring himself away in your shared bed, wings splayed out without a care in this world.

As he opens his eyes blearily, he can make out your soft fingers on his face, warm and comforting as your thumb strokes his cheek, squatting down on the floor beside his edge of the bed. It's an awfully good morning whenever you're there to wake him up, which isn't often considering how light of a sleeper Azriel is. It's one of the rare times that he had a fully undisturbed 8 hours of sleep, with no nightmares plaguing his visions. 

He smiles, seeing your face first thing. Gods, he would die over and over again if this was the sight he woke up to each time.

Noticing his expression, your grin widens as you lift your other hand from laying on the sheets, cradling his face and brushing your nose against his, closing your eyes as you breathe in your mate, all the while feeling the bond pulsate like a well-known bliss inside your chest. The golden band on your left ring finger glints wonderfully in the morning sun, the rays illuminating it as if it were a halo wrapped around your skin. The ring is a dainty but simple thing, its surface raised with signature Night Court swirls and stars, the pattern a twin to the bargain marks painting your sternum—the one that you made with Azriel the day of your ceremony with promises to love and protect, even beyond death.

It was an unusual thing to have around in Pythian, considering it was a human tradition. 

You and Azriel picked up the custom after learning it from a mission the two of you went to a long time ago in the human lands. Of course, it wasn't like either of you needed conventional items to show your relationship, knowing the Mother had already blessed you with one of magic, something so deeply sacred that transcended both words and worlds. Still, you thought that the piece of gold represented a beautiful message. It told the story of your battles and triumphs, the countless suffering and victories that got you to where you were, being able to hold the hand of your fated mate, rings clinking and echoing the bells that rung in your mating ceremony. No distance could ever separate you. And most of all, it reminded you every waking day of the way Azriel accepted you as his, as someone who loved him through thick and thin, someone who he would kill and die for.

You were always a victim of sentiment, and neither you nor Azriel could deny the pride the two of you felt seeing each other's rings—the way it felt like a claim over each other, physical proof of your love beyond words.

When Feyre met the Inner Circle for the first time, she became an addition to the people who appreciated the symbol. You were confused at first, wondering why the Cursebreaker was staring at you so deeply. Then you saw the way her eyes never wavered from your hand, the one that was brushing against Azriel's scarred ones as he softly reciprocated up and down against your fingers. It had honestly been centuries since the two of you mated that you sometimes forget you were wearing a ring, the weight of it so familiar that it became a part of your body. 

She'd told you one day how in awe and warm she felt seeing the two of you wearing your rings. It indeed was a rare sight, and in her heart she understood what it meant. Even if she hadn't been familiar with mating bonds, Feyre knew what wedding yourself to someone entailed, and for the one of the first times in a while she had smiled so brightly, sharing a nod that only the three of you seemed to understand.

Funnily enough, Rhys told you that even before she noticed the rings and the affection, Feyre had read Azriel up and down as being utterly in love with you. The Azriel whisperer. Guess it wasn't hard to notice the pure adoration pouring out of his eyes at the mere thought of you.

"I thought I'd let you sleep in for a bit before I go, I know it's been a rough week for you baby."

"I love you." That was the first thing he uttered, overwhelmed with the feeling. He could hear, feel and see your thoughts—ones of your ceremony. You never did block him off from your side of the bond, and it had really only been silent if he was out on a critical mission. Azriel loved it. Every side of you. Whenever you got frustrated, sad or jumping with joy, he celebrated in the knowledge that you were his and his only. That you were healthy and alive through all your emotions. 

Now he basked into the memory of your mating ceremony centuries ago, his own heart following yours as it took him through every single thought and emotion that was felt proudly through your perspective. Cauldron, he felt so loved. Awakened and reborn every time he remembered that day.

I love you too, you uttered through the bond, giggling as he brought you up off the floor, setting you on top of him like you were a piece of paper. His hand on your waist comforted you like no other, the warmth so familiar. The shadows slithered all around you in an almost child-like nature, prodding at your cheeks and shoulders. They were always so delightful around you, pretty much accepting you as their own mistress ever since you and Az mated. You stayed there for a while, laying one side of your head on his chest while you closed your eyes and followed his heartbeat, enjoying the melody it followed. 

The burst of shared happiness in you grew until a smile lit up on your face and you looked up from your position to him, climbing up his body and cradling his head in your arms, squeezing gently as you squealed when he began tickling the sides of your waist. You felt Azriel nosing the skin of your neck, breathing in your scent that had been so beautifully intertwined with his over the years. 

You loved moments like this, when the two of you didn't have to speak out loud, all the feelings simply existing.

After a calming while, you begrudgingly had to get up from your comfort, remembering why you were up early in the first place. Though, you had only made one inch of movement before you felt Az's arms locking themselves behind your back, face attaching back to his rightly earned place on the supple skin of your chest. And in times like these, you truly thanked the mother for blessing you with a mate who rivaled you in clinginess. It was dangerous when Azriel got like this. Difficult was an understatement to how it felt trying to get out of his arms, knowing his Illyrian training and position in Rhysand's court fully translated to his strength and state of his (godly) physique. Even your family had commented on how soft Azriel was when it came to you, now used to the image of the male having his arms and wings—or any part of his body really—against yours at all times.

You gently tapped the top of his ruffled hair, resting your right cheek on it as you urged him to let you go, kissing his head in between. Azriel only mumbled in response—the sound too unintelligible for it to be distinct—and closed his eyes again, ready to enter the realm of dreams.

You laughed breathily, craning your neck up and softly pulling his head back while you dragged your hand down the back of his head, holding a loose grip on his hair. "If you let me go right now I'll be back in your arms sooner than you can blink, Az." He smiled, blinking slowly in thought.

"How ‘bout that, huh? You, me, and fresh bed sheets tonight?" You mumbled, bringing your face close to his until your lips just barely brushed each other.

Now that got him up and alert.

Not even a second later you had taken the chance to jump out of the bed, letting your fingers drag onto the skin of his arms and turning around to get dressed. Azriel shook his head, his breathy chuckle being the only indication of his acceptance of defeat. And acceptance of your offer, of course. 

Leisurely, (as if you didn't have a certain purple-eyed highlord waiting for your arrival) you shrugged your night slip off, leaving you bare all the way except for your sapphire colored lacy underwear, the one your mate loved so much. "Rhys asked me to help him sort out his fucking mounds of paperwork again."

"—honestly Az, he's been dragging me into his office ever since I did it that one time he kept dropping down cold out of exhaustion." You sighed out exasperatedly, crossing your arms as you dug through your giant closet to find an appropriate outfit.

"You know he's just trying to find a way to spend time with you right?" Azriel answered, clearly distracted by your undressing. So easy. It was so easy to hook this man right around your fingers. You could clearly feel his piercing gaze travel up and down your body, tracing all your curves, not leaving a single inch yearning for his attention. You loved it, relished it. It made you feel so beautiful and desired, and your prideful Illyrian never failed to mention it out loud.

"Yeah yeah..." You shook your head affectionately. You weren't actually annoyed at Rhysand and honestly thought this was really sweet. With his mind running around the whole bargain with the Cursebreaker and the dizzying problem of recovering Prythian after what happened for the last 50 years, you knew your long-time friend needed a break, and you'd help him in whatever form, even if it meant going through all of his tedious High Lord work. Plus, you wouldn't miss a single chance to goad him on about the shoe-throwing incident.

You most probably would get wine-tipsy by the end of it. He did have one hell of a drink collection.

Once you found the pieces you were looking for, you grabbed each one in a hanger, walking back over to face Azriel as you held both of them up, asking his opinion for which one to wear. 

He had his arms crossed in front of him and scrunched his eyebrows for one second, raising his eyebrows as he silently nodded his head towards the one on your right. Hm. This was his favorite because it displayed your... assets very well. Typical mate. Winking as a thanks, you put the unused set back, putting on your outfit for the day, all the while he watched with twinkling eyes.

"I mean, couldn't he ask me to go training or something?" Still, you continued your tangent, feeling playful in this happy morning.

"Rhys knows not to train with you because you're lazy." His words hadn't registered in your mind yet because Gods did you love this version of your mate so much. The crumpled bed sheets did absolutely no help covering him up, falling right below his hip while his muscles flexed. His chestnut hair spiked in all kinds of directions, remnants of your own hands playing with the soft strands. The constant darkness that surrounded him only drew your attention to his half-lidded eyes, so sultry without a try. The smug bastard was leaning his head back, both his hands behind them and he knew how much you loved it when he did that—bulging biceps and all. You could just claw at him right now. You were so thankful for his Illyrian DNA.. it was like they were born with divine statures.  

"What. Did you just say to me, Azriel?" You gasped in mock offense, a hand on your chest and all.

He had the audacity to show you his sorry smile, as if it would get him out of every sticky situation (It did. Every time. You were just too prideful to say it) "No, no, don't you smile at me like that."

You held your finger up, trying your best to ignore him. You scoffed. Lazy. Okay well in your defense, Rhysand just fucking loved to rile you up whenever the two of you were in the ring. It almost always made you annoyed to the point that you couldn't look at his face without feeling the urge to punch it. It wasn't like you couldn't take a friendly banter, but he did it for way too long and way too often. That's why you preferred to fight with Azriel or Cassian for that matter.

Seeing you hold your stance, he got up in all his glory, boxers being the only unfortunate thing covering him up. It was purely instinct to look him up and down, savoring the image while you bit your lip. Pride. That’s all he felt whenever you did that.

Azriel walked towards you with open arms, enveloping you in his large frame when he got close enough, one hand going right down its snug place on your ass while the other went behind your head.

He whispered in your ear lovingly, satiating your unserious upset. "I'm very sorry, my beautiful, intelligent, kind and sexy mate."

You could only melt right into his embrace, bringing your arms to coil around his neck as you smiled against it, pressing your lips onto his skin a couple times. His throaty voice right to your ears made you shiver in delight, goosebumps rising in its wake. You really couldn't get enough of this man, his voice, his smile, his scent and his everything. Feeling your love, Azriel responded by holding you tighter against his body, feeling every inch pressing against him.

"So sexy." He murmured, squeezing your ass.

A laugh bubbled deep from your chest and you leant back from your cozy spot, resting your palm against his chest as you smiled up at him, sighing and nodding in delight. "Knew we were mates for a reason."

He joined you a moment later, his laugh vibrating deep within his chest. This on its own could make any fae in Prythian drop down to their knees. Azriel didn't hesitate to kiss you, feeling a type of content that could only be fulfilled by your lips. 

You giggled as you felt his lips trek your jaw, down to your collarbone and trailing your shoulders, all the while letting his enormous wings cocoon the two of you. You were pleased to stay inside the little world you two built, letting the joy simmer between you and your mate until he released the hold he had on you with his wings. Without a single word being spoken, you let him trail you as you made your way towards the generous vanity on the corner of the bedroom, picking out the everyday items that were displayed. And of course, you had to use the perfume that Az got for your 100th anniversary, the bottle no longer the original as you had gone through so much with constant use. 

The male loved whenever you’d wear it,—which was almost everyday—the smell mixed with your own natural one driving him mad, further and further falling for you. And that was exactly his reaction after you gave your wrist a small spritz. Azriel melted deeper into you, if that was even possible with the lack of space between your bodies. 

“Think I’m gonna fly out to the city later. Cass is back from Windhaven.” He murmured into the nape of your neck once you were done, fully wrapping his arms around you and not missing the chance to slip them under your top to cup your breasts at it. You hummed in response, laying your head back and tilting to the side to look at your mate and giving him sweet kisses. 

“Mm, sounds fun. Tell him I said hi—Ooh, can you please bring back those chocolate chip cookies we had last week? They were soo good.” You closed your eyes in the memory, proceeding to pout at the Illyrian while reaching behind to lay one of your hands on the back of his neck.

Azriel hummed knowingly in response. Obviously he’d get them for you. You didn't even have to ask and he would’ve brought them back anyway. “Okay baby, anything you want.”

This man. Everything out of his mouth made you feel so madly in love.

While he swayed your bodies leisurely, you couldn’t help but grin up at him, teasing his behavior as you scratched his scalp to emphasize. “You’re so in love with me, Az.”

“‘Course I am, look at you. Beautiful. So beautiful.” He raised your left hand towards his face, emphasizing the word with a delicate kiss on your knuckles, lips lingering on the finger that adorned your ring. 

He’d do anything and everything for you. Fly to the edge of Prythian and back, steal the moon, burn the world, collect the stars and hang them up again to paint the sky. If you asked he would do it.

What else could you do in response than to lean up and kiss him in return, letting him twist your body to face him while his hands pull at your waistband, caressing in calming motions. “My mate is so sweet.”

“I love you too.”

“Okay okay, I should go now. Rhys will start nagging me about being glued to you and our bed as he always does.” You reluctantly separated yourself from his embrace, rubbing your hands down his arms in consolation for the loss of warmth.

“Been over 400 years now, sweetheart. I don’t think he’s going to stop anytime soon.” And Azriel meant this in an entirely endearing way. What happened under the mountain with that insane bitch Amarantha had truly changed Rhysand. He returned home different, haunted. The first time you heard him playfully tease yours and Azriel’s inseparable nature you had both been stunned, finally seeing the old friend—no, brother—that you knew so well show through the cracks. 

You shook your head in agreement, grinning as you took the chance to bump your noses together. “I’ll see you when I see you, hot stuff. Tell me everything tonight.”

“On our fresh bed sheets?” He smirked playfully, echoing your previous promise as a way to remind you.

“Mhm, exactly on our fresh bed sheets.” You laughed and winked at him, finally turning around and grabbing your trusty dagger by the drawer and sheathing it on your thigh. The weapon never went anywhere without you, even if you were only venturing to the Town House. It was something small to reign Azriel’s constant need of making sure you were safe and armed at all times. 

Your mate followed you out the door of your room, beelining towards the kitchen, no doubt to make himself a nice cup of coffee. 

As your passed him by the isle, you gave him one last goodbye kiss, throwing your head back in laughter at the (soft) slap on your ass on your way.

The minute you opened the door to his large office, Rhysand had paused, nose up and muttered with a teasing smile, “Gods, you reek of Illyrian.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rhys.”

AAAH! guys im insanely back from writing hiatus after like a year. This is fucking surreal and also im so sorry to my friends that i abandoned.. yall… ily and my messages are open 

On another note, i am glad to start it all up again with an azriel piece. Despite loving his character since 2021, ive never written for him but i got inspired after reading a terribly sweet soldier boy fic lol.

I really hope that this story, in all aspects, is okay! I feel very rusty

masterlist

dividers credit @rookthornesartistry @chachachannah @dollywons

(also if you see this thank you GWEN for convincing me to post again)

[klausysworld]

Hear me out.....

I have this idea for you... hear me out.

Reader is camping in mystic falls....klaus just broke his wolf curse. His first rut hits him and he runs into the woods. He gets a whiff of a very good smelling scent. He follows it. Turns out he has a mate and she is not a super creature but a human. Hear me out now.... she's his true mate...and he considers her his omega.

So when he approaches her she's like a tad bit freaked out but she feels that same pull to him he does with her. She sits down on the ground and klaus let's her pet him...

Let's just say this reader is into...werewolves cause she reads a lot of fanfiction so in her mind her wildest dreams are about to come true.  And you can put two and two together.

Wolf!klaus fucking his human!reader as his mate. And after that moment they became inseparable. Your welcome. 😌

Dream or Reality?

Klaus ran far and fast, the pads of his paws thudding against the ground, wind blowing through his fur and that delightful rush of adrenaline had his undead heart pounding.

He dismissed Elijah’s annoyed callings for him and continued to enjoy the freedom he had longed for.

Everything was so intense now, even more that it already was. Every chirp of a cricket, every buzz of a bee, every crinkle of a leaf and every flap of a birds wings. He could hear for miles on end. As he looked around at his surroundings, the greens were brighter, the sky bluer. The the mud and blades of grass against his paws could each be individually felt and when he inhaled deeply, a wave of scents filled his lungs.

However one in particular stood out.

He made a sudden stop, his body skidding to a halt and his ears pointed straight up as he sniffed a few more times. His mouth watered and he pressed his snout down, following the delicious scent, chasing it as he heard the hum of a girl.

He slowed gradually and followed her as she weaves through the trees, a basket in hand which was filled with a range of wild berries. He sat down and watched as she picked from a large bush of blackberries, leaning a little closer to smell just how lovely she was. It had his claws digging into the ground and his tail beating the floor.

His eyes shone gold, bleeding into red as she bent right the way over to pick up her basket once she was finished picking from the high parts. Her short, flowy dress allowing him to see just about everything as her matching white thong left very little to the imagination.

Oh how he wanted to run up behind her and shove his mouth into her cunt. If she smelled this delicious, he could only dream of her taste.

But instead he decided to wait, follow her some more until it began to get dark and her stroll came to a stop. He looked around at the clearing she had chosen to rest at. Klaus kept low to the ground, the grass and flowers not hiding him as well as he might’ve hoped but enough.

He took a few tentative steps as she sat down against the grass, just watching the sun set. Her skin glowed under the golden hue and her hair lay beautifully against her skin. The white of her dress complimented her skin tone wonderfully, he could onto imagine how soft it would be against his tongue.

The thought alone had him walking straight to her, his muzzle brushing her shoulder making her freeze in place. Her head slowly turned to face him, wide eyes staring back at him and her breathing came to a stop.

He slowly sat before her, her lips parted slightly as he rolled his shoulders back and he sat tall before her. Her head tilted back to take in his height, a nervous breath leaving her as a soft growl rumbled through him.

She looked so weak in-front of him, so small and innocent. Oh how he knew he could just eat her up, in many ways.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, shock written all across her as maintained eye contact with him for as long as possible. He found it amusing how she tried to stand her ground by holding his stare, he allowed her to win this, allow her to feel as though she may have the upper hand.

Klaus brought himself down to lay on his forearms and back legs, his chest barely touching the grass below.

Her hand very slowly lifted, she held it out with fear flashing through her and a twinge of curiosity as he sniffed her hand. He groaned at the addictive scent of her blood underneath the surface and licked the soft skin of her palm. She giggled quietly at the tickle of his tongue as he dragged it up her arm and her other hand pet his head gently.

“Wow” she whispered under her breath and a smile tugged at her lips as he pulled his face away and looks down at her through hooded eyes. His head tilted when he caught the scent of something rather sweet. His tail whipped side to side when he realised the source of the delicious smell and lowered his head. Her eyes widened when his nose pressed to her lower belly and she gasped softly.

Her hands ran through his fur on his neck and down his back, well as far as her arms could reach from her seated position. When she leaned forward to touch his tail he took the opportunity to get his head under her skirt, the top of his snout pressed to her panties making her jolt and squeal.

“Shit” she whispered when she fell forward in surprise onto her hands and knees over the top of him. She kept still, unsure what her best move could be here, she couldn’t make any sudden movements, it might spook him and she didn’t exactly want to be with a violent wolf when it’s nose was rubbing against her panties.

An involuntary moan left her when his long, warm tongue pressed against her and she quickly rolled to her side and onto her back.

“Oh gods” she whispered when the wolf stood over her, licking his lips and sniffing her intently. She looked up wide eyed and even more so when he barked quietly at her before pressing his nose to the valley if her breasts.

Her mouth opened and closed as she stared into his eyes, a strange glint in them that told her he was definitely more than he looked.

Dear god she read too many werewolf fanfics. She was in a field with a fucking huge animal trying to feel her up and she liked it way more than she probably should.

“Okay, okay” she uttered to herself while slowly pushing herself up to be sitting again but he didn’t move, instead her face was hidden in his chest and his rustic scent was filling her head. She groaned softly at the addicting smell and found herself nuzzling her nose against his fur.

Klaus watched in both amusement and lust, his front leg lifted to wrap around her, his large paw holding the back of her head in encouragement as she huffed him in. Warmth spread through him, pooling at the pit of his stomach as her hands tugged his fur. God he needed to have her right now, make her his before anyone else could get even the slightest view of her.

His nose sniffed at the top of her head, her hair freshly washed and soft. Her cheek pressed to his chest and a small moan left her as he stepped forward and pressed a paw to her now damp underwear. His tail wagged and he turned his head to lick the shell of her ear and make her squirm.

She fell back against the grass as he pressed his nose to her throat to gently push her downwards.

“Fuck fuck fuck” she chanted as she closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his tongue along her neck. His teeth caged her throat, the action should’ve made her reek with fear but a low growl erupted from his chest at the flow of arousal she released as he bit down gently. Her hands latched onto his fur tightly, keeping his teeth in her as he pierced past the skin to leave his mark. “Oh god” she breathed as he licked over the wounds more moving his snout further down her body.

“This can’t be happening” she whispered as his canines nibbled along the swell of her breasts and pushed the top of her dress down to have more access. Klaus tugged at the fabric but she didn’t move to take it off making him huff and bark at her.

She looked back at him confused and shook her head slowly making him grumble before grabbing the skirt of the sundress and pulling it up making her yelp as he exposed her thong. Her hand moved to cover herself and she groaned when she realised how wet she was, not noticing the way his tail wagged rapidly when she pushed them down off her legs. “What am I doing” she mumbled to herself before glancing to the wolf.

“Sit” she whispered unsure but he did so and her eyes widened. “Okay” she laughed slightly and stood up, entertained by the fact he followed her. “Go on, go home” she shooed him, but he kept his nose nice and close to the source of her scent and followed her until she stopped at a large teepee tent. She sighed and went inside, closing it up before Klaus could step in making him growl softly.

Not that it was an issue, he just powered his way through and drank in the sight before him. Seeing her pull off her dress and pull out a skimpy pair of pyjamas. Perfect for his eyes but he also hated that she would come to an open area, anyone could come by, and wear such lack of clothing.

She shrieked when she turned to see him stood before her and grabbed her sleeping bag to cover herself. It wasn’t appreciated apparently as he showed her by grabbing the end of it and pulling it roughly like a dog would a tug toy. Her hold on it was nothing compared to his and she ended up fully naked again for his eager eyes.

“What the actual fuck” she whispered looking back at him with a slightly fearful, slightly aroused look in her eyes while his shone with lust and hunger.

Her legs pressed together, her hands awkwardly hiding her sex from his view. She took a reluctant step back as he stalked toward her much like a predator does his prey before closing her eyes nervously and praying to god that this animal wouldn’t eat her.

Oh but he wanted to, just a little differently to the way she was thinking.

So when his tongue licked at her slightly shaky hands, she moved them slowly in anticipation. Her eyes flew open when he nuzzled his nose between her thighs, nudging them apart and locking his eyes on hers and his tongue curled between them. “Oh fuck” she breathed as it slid along her folds, then between them until the tip of his tongue stroked her clit.

“This isn’t real. This isn’t real.” She told herself “it’s just a dream” she whispered with a long breath, her hands moving to pet the top of his head. If it were a dream then she could do this, just live out her dirty fantasies and wake up in the morning all hot and sweaty.

Klaus chuckled in his head at her words and continued his actions. Her hands in his fur felt delightful, and her taste on his tongue was more than heavenly. Her body was so beautiful from where he was, looking straight up at her. Her face was looking up, avoiding his stare making his tail wag lowly as he buried his face further into her cunt, tongue deep inside her and the blunts of his teeth nibbling the hood of her clit to have her thighs trembling, legs struggling to keep her stood up. Her nails dug into his scruff and her knees went weak.

He let his eyes fall closed as he focused solely on her. She was overwhelming in every aspect but he couldn’t stop craving her. Such an addictive taste, smell, feel. Her slippery pink flesh was so incredibly soft, smooth like silk and he could only imagine how it will feel around his shaft as he slides in and out of her.

His tongue reached up into her, feeling for and finding that spongey little spot within her. One stroke of his tongue was all it took for her legs to give out, knees hitting the base of the tent as she moaned loudly. Her arms moved out to ease herself down as she laid on her back, thighs open for him to indulge between.

“Fucking hell” she uttered under her breath as her hands grabbed him tightly and kept his face right against her. Her fucks bucked and a sharp cry left her when his cold nose rubbed at her hot clit, his tongue continuously curling inside her until she was spilling her pleasure into his mouth. Moaning loudly with no control over herself as she came over his muzzle, she pushed herself up on her elbows to watch him tongue dart out to lap up every drop.

His dark, dangerous eyes gazed right into hers, hunger was all she could see as he licked his snout clean with a low rumble echoing through him.

Klaus couldn’t think about anything else. He needed to have her right now. He took a seat before her, he looked down between his legs to see he his long, thick cock stood in desperate need of attention. He glanced back to her, seeing her lips parted and eyes dark as she whimpered at the sight of it. He sat a little taller as she crawled forward, nervously looking up to him every few movements before she was right in-front of him. God she looked pathetically tiny compared to him like this, and he loved it.

Her small soft hands reached forward to get a gentle hold on his cock. A grunt instantly left his throat as she kept her eyes on his, waiting incase he reacted threateningly. Her eyes flickered between his face and his dick, her breathing getting heavier as both her hands slid up and down his length, his thickness filling both hands more and more as she stroked him.

“Jesus fucking Christ” she whispered when she looked at it a little too long, watching a spurt of pre-cum leak down him making her spread it all over his cock. A soft moan left her lips when his hips jerked forward and she glanced to him before slowly leaning down.

Klaus’ tail whipped side to side as her breath ghosted his tip, growl like groans leaving him before he choked on his breath as her plump lips pressed to his cock. A gasp left her and he looked down to see if something was wrong but he felt her suckling at the slit telling him everything was just perfect.

His hips jumped forward, his claws digging into the ground as he stretched her mouth open. She moaned in pain at the sting of her face but his taste was so rich and addicting that she just ignored it.

Klaus rose so he was stood up instead of sat, his hips rocking into her little mouth as she sent a flow of vibrations down him. She too was on all fours as she seemingly tried to swallow him down. His head leaned down to lick over the top of her ass, the softness of his tongue making her whimper around his succulent cock. His tongue dipped down between her cheeks to taste her once more, and of course to feel the moans she released around him again.

He listened as his little mate choked around him as his swollen tip knocked as far back as it could. Her poor throat contracted around it until she gagged and he stepped back to spare her. She coughed a little and sucked at his tip a little more before pulling back to catch her breath.

Klaus stood tall and turned around, still stood over her but now in a position ready to mouth her. Though she was so small infront of him he would be nearly lead down to fuck her.

He licked her back softly as her breathing sped up and her head looked over her shoulder to see his strong form over her. She let out a lengthy breath, a small nod to her head she she tried to mentally prepare herself for the step she was taking.

Klaus’s back legs bent to bring himself lower, his large cock going between her legs and sliding against her dripping cunt. He admired how soaked she was, he wondered how long she had fantasised of this position. To be fucked by a werewolf.

Though her loud moan told him it must’ve been a while as his tip pushed inside her. Her pussy clung to him tightly and her gasps for breath were obvious as her little body stretched for him. Klaus wouldn’t have been surprised if she came as soon as he thrust himself inside her from the way her body reacted.

Klaus wasn’t sure if this was exactly ethical but neither one of them seemed to exactly care very much about morals at that moment. She tilted her head back to look up at him, his tail wagged at the sight of her glossy eyes. Her mouth opened and a whimpered “Please” left her soft lips. He listened to her pleas, bucking his hips forward and listening to the scream that she released as her head fell back forward to look down. His front paws pushed against the tent floor to thrust himself back and forth slowly.

Her moans were melodic, her velvet walls tight. Klaus only wished he could whisper his filthy thoughts to her.

He shifted his from legs, his paws grabbing onto her hips and his claws digging into her skin making her hiss. Her pain only lasted a second as his hips began to abruptly thrust faster.

“Oh fuck” she yelled as he roughly humped into her. He stood strong on his back legs, lifting her lower region up as he pounded her from behind, quite literally like a wild animal. Her palms lay flat against the ground as her body jolted forward each time his swelled tip smacked her cervix.

His panted grunts filled the air as well as her rapid breaths and moans. The tent felt much smaller as the air got thicker. Hard thrusts knocked the air out of her every second, sharp breaths leaving her as she felt her cunt spasm around his dick. Klaus fucked her faster, harder at the feel of her slippery walls squeezing him desperately.

Klaus felt something extra sensitive growing at the base of his cock and hitting against her tight little hole. She let out a pleasant cry as she felt herself be stretched out further.

Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open at the feel of his wolf’s knot shove in and out of her.

Klaus’s mind clouded over, he barely registered how her body shook and her screams got loud enough for the whole forest to hear. All he focused on was getting his knot so deep inside her that she was bound to him forever. His wolf clawed at her waist and hips as his hind legs steadied to fuck her as roughly as he could.

Her cunt clamped around him tightly, his knot locking inside her making her cry in pleasure when their orgasms mixed. His stuffing her full of his seed and hers exploding down her thighs. Her body fell exhausted immediately, the knotting taking its toll as it should for first time mates.

Klaus pulled out and whined as her arms gave out under her and she hit the ground with a thud. His tongue was on her face, trying to wake her up but she was barely conscious.

He circled her for a full minute before curling around her, wrapping her frame in his warmth.

His snout squeezed between her thighs which desperately tried to squeeze together. He lapped his tongue against her folds, cleaning her cunt and thighs so she wouldn’t feel sticky when she woke.

Klaus stayed awake while she slept. She slept for nearly 16 hours but he didn’t move. He abandoned any plans of hunting and terrorising civilians like he had originally wanted to when he released his wolf and instead smuggled his mate. He found himself with his muzzle in her pussy nearly every few hours no matter how hard he tried to resist, he knew it was making her sleepier but god he just couldn’t help himself. At least he managed to stop himself from fucking her again, he can only imagine how she would scream herself awake.

But he was able to hold some of his desires inside.

He kept her warm and safe for over half a day. Even when she woke, she was still drowsy and wasn‘y up to moving so he kept her comfy and pleased.

They both seemed to forget that the woods were open to anyone walking past. Elijah made the futile mistake of thinking his brother was killing the girl onto to find him with his furry face between her legs. Klaus nearly ripped his eyes out of his head.

Elijah left and returned a full day later with both men’s and women’s clothes, tossing them into the tent.

Klaus had turned back a few hours before and had to confirm the girls dreams, he was a werewolf.

“Hybrid actually” he told her and her eyes widened making him chuckle and kiss her lips softly. She wasn’t expecting such gentleness from the animal which had ruined her poor pussy but there he was, rubbing her skin to keep her warm and encouraging her to keep her eyes closed.

Klaus growled when Elijah threw the clothes in but somewhat appreciated it anyway.

He dressed y/n and then himself, scooping her into his arms and kissing her cheek.

“We’re going on a trip sweetheart, we’ll be finding many more werewolves and I’ll teach you everything you can know about the supernatural” he told her with a soft smile and slow strokes her hair as she nuzzled his chest.

[nottivagos]

(Psst, read this!) Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Monday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

You and Mafia!Carlos Sainz have a messy kind of relationship. A tension that doesn't seem to dissipate as you both end up together, unable to keep your hands off one and other every time.

an: guys is my music inspo getting boring now because this is ANOTHER NOTEBOOK ENTRY inspired by a tiny lyric. anywho, the song is called "Sickly Sweet" by NewDad if you want to give it a listen!

You couldn’t do it again. Not now, not ever.

Strongly gripping onto your wine glass, you bit your tongue in irritation, deeply lost in your irked thoughts. How could you have been so careless? You’d told yourself over and over and even more over again that you wouldn’t be drawn into his wicked games. But here you were, standing around looking pretty, drawn to his estate like a moth to a flame.

Carlos Sainz was trouble. Big trouble, at that. He always had been. If he wasn’t trouble, he wouldn’t have acclaimed the reputation he did throughout Madrid. A dark shadow cast across the city, bringing Hell and suffering with it, crashing onto the innocent citizens like a wave.

Filthy businesses, the elites he’d been able to buy and bribe, large, wealthy empires built on crimson bloodshed that stained the pavements, people used as leverage and intel on the daily— the bitter reality churned with the burning alcohol in your stomach, the thought making you sick.

Maybe it was the thrill you clung onto. The fact that it wasn’t right, the knowledge that it never would be right morally, that kept making you crawl back hopelessly. The adrenaline of unleashing the beast inside of him, the sexual ferocity in his grip as he groped and touched every inch of your skin, the passion that coursed and shocked like electricity inside both of your bodies as you made messy love.

It’s not like it ended any differently. The finale was like clockwork, limbs tangled in twisted satin sheets, hands ever so gently intertwined, dried sweat and other human juices clinging onto your bare bodies as you bathed in the early morning sunlight— dishevelled, but content. Sexual bliss, or even a honeymoon period, perhaps as you crashed down from the high.

The feeling was too comfortable. It always was. It felt domesticated, too loving, too simple, as he pressed a soft kiss to the temple and muttered, “I love you, I’m sorry.” whilst you both stirred. Words and actions you’d felt and heard from the kingpin too many times before.

God, he was a walking juxtaposition. How the hell could a man so beautifully clean, fresh, neat and trimmed be so sickening to the stomach because of his occupation? His name? His status?

It was an intoxicating love affair. As if you both shared a sweet bite of each other, (in this instance, the sex), before the taste soured in your mouth, a bottomless pit of dread and regret pooling inside you, corrupting the one inkling of peace you’d both had together.

Messy was the only way to describe the ordeal. Maybe a good type of messy, (the type of messy that made you feel like a hormonal teenager experiencing sex for the first time– the type that makes your insides flip and turn fuzzy), because you were drawn deeper and deeper into his dark world of criminal boss madness.

Carlos himself wasn’t any better. To him, you were as addictive as a drug he desperately tried to quit, becoming love-drunk in your presence. Before he then inevitably fell into an obsessive spiral into getting you back. Not only in his arms, but in his bed, and fully in his life again.

Everything about you, in Carlos’s eyes anyways, was overwhelmingly magnetic. Soft curves and contours that complimented the sleazy designer dresses you wore like it was made solely for your body alone; plump, reddened lips that the sweetest of moans escaped from; pretty tits he could rub and pinch whenever he pleased; the wonderfully curved ass he cupped and slapped with ease; the richness of the colour of your hair, flowing graciously off of your shoulders…

It was a feeling and vivid memory he wanted to cling onto forever.

So that’s how you ended up here, dolled up and looking lavish on behalf of the Spaniard’s request, at one of his drab social events held at his estate. Gazes burnt holes into your form, men armed silently with guns and noticeably double your age, ogling dangerously for a second too long.

The air was suffocating. The clientele inside Sainz’s compound stunk of wealth, a fortune you yourself didn’t have. Lost in thought, you bit the inside of your cheek, the metallic bitterness simmering on your tongue.

“Thought I might’ve found you here, princesa,” a deep, thick accented voice spoke from the side of you, breaking your stream of consciousness. “Tense as always, I see,” the innocent tease made the man chuckle, despite your lack of amusement.

“Carlos,” you acknowledged, body burning but still looking ahead, before taking a brief sip from your glass.

“Do I not get the privilege of seeing your eyes?” he asked, before tutting disapprovingly. “It’s not polite to look away when someone’s speaking to you, nena,” he added, giving you a knowing glance.

The nicknames made your jaw tense and lock into place, the whites of your knuckles more visible as your body language tightened, posture stiffening. “Maybe you don’t deserve the privilege of seeing my face,” you bit back, voice spewing venom with each syllable.

He tutted again unamused by your witty remarks, arm coming to ghost over your shoulder, fingertips lazily brushing against your back. “That’s not very nice, is it?” he murmured lowly into your ear, words pooling thickly like honey. “Anyways, if you didn’t want to see me, then you wouldn’t be here.”

That comment wounded you even more. The tight coil of your wit nearly snapping as you couldn’t describe your emotion. Was it anger? Envy? Lust? The feeling unfathomable as you pressed the wine glass to your lips in response, drinking the rest of the liquid in one gulp, allowing the burning sensation to scorch your throat.

Tiny touches toyed with the flimsy straps of your dress, whilst you both looked forward, the silence heavy and palpable in the bustle of Carlos’s closest contacts and filthy assets who paraded the largely decorated room.

A faint flush burnt into your cheeks, gaze and tone dismissive, “I came for the free booze.”

“And now you’re a liar!” he exclaimed with amusement. His accent was like tar, low and gooey, as hot breath brushed against the shell of your ear, “We both know why you’re here. What's the point in lying, sweetheart?”

You bit the inside of your cheek again, nervous hands now playing with the hem of your skirt as Carlos continued to trail his own against your back, his motions creating soft, spontaneous patterns against the bare flesh.

“Can we go someplace quieter?” you blurted, eyes finally meeting his doe brown ones for the first time of the evening. “It’s stifling in here,” you muttered, a clammy palm rubbing against your arm slightly awkwardly.

Flashing his signature wolfish grin, he hummed contently. “That,” he began, the hand ghosting your back coming to snake around your waist, giving your hip a slight squeeze, “I can do, mi vida.”

Gazes burnt into you as other members of the party watched you leave the lavish hall with Carlos by your side. The winding corridors made the music seem distant, the melodies now distorted and humming faintly.

His eyes were hungry, you could sense that, as his spare hand came to grip the brass door handle in front of you, swinging the door open. “After you,” he motioned with such grace, stalking closely behind as you walked into the room.

Carlos Sainz’s office also reeked of wealth. The antique oak bookcases lining the walls, vintage leather chairs surrounding the polished wooden desk, his own portrait— hand painted with precision— staring down at you with that same authoritative glint in his animated eye.

“Is this more to your liking, darling?” His voice quickly broke you out of your drifting consciousness, a large hand coming to grip your wrist gently, before pressing your back into the edge of the desk in the middle of the room.

Briefly nodding, suddenly your shallow breathing mingled with his own steady breaths, the tension electric, dark eyes locking onto your wide ones.

“You don't know how badly I want you,” he mumbled, nose nuzzling your own as his hand slipped from your wrist to cupping your burning cheek. “How badly I need this,” his voice was breathy, the heat from his words dangerously fanning against your lips.

A gentle thumb brushed against the apple of your cheek, a crawling flush following in the calloused pad’s wake. Your own hand snaked around to his neck, “I want it too,” a whispered response followed as the slight pressure pushed his lips softly onto your own.

His smoky musk-like taste seeped into your mouth, as your lips magnetically intertwined, fighting for dominance. Breathing hitched, soft moans and groans echoed around the room when Carlos’s tongue dipped into your mouth. Frantic hands groping each other followed, tugging at any fabric they could grasp in your shared lustful frenzy.

Like a lone spark reacting with oxygen, the passion rekindled swiftly, the intensity of the flame rising as heat pooled to your core. Shared saliva mingled in your mouth, his tongue twisting and gliding over your own as his lips muffled your growing whimpers and moans. Fingers digging into your hips, lifting you onto the oak table with ease, kissing with the same passion as before.

Frantic fingers fumbled with his shirt’s buttons, before the fabric finally fell off of his back, your nails digging into his shoulders, muscles flexing in the shimmering moonlight. A breathy gasp escaped your lips as his own hungry fingertips found your flimsy straps again, pulling down your dress so it was hanging on your stomach, breasts spilling out gracefully.

His fingertips found your nipples, rolling the nubs into hardened, sensitive peaks as a whine escaped, silenced by another searing kiss. His hardening erection ground into your clothed cunt, the sensation burning your core, sending shocks of pleasure around your overheating body, his hands gripping your boobs in a lusty death grip.

“Carlos—” you whined breathlessly against his lips, hips bucking against his clothed cock like a bitch in heat. “Please…” you pleaded, puppy eyes meeting his darkened brown ones.

That small voice spoke volumes. His belt left his trousers, the soft clink heard as it dropped to the floor. Arms tangled around your half-naked body as his large palms left your breasts, pushing you against the cold oak, the sensation against your back tingling.

His pants slid down his legs, resting at his ankles as he allowed his hard length to bounce back as he revealed it from his boxers slowly, eye contact intense as he did so.

“Is this what you want?” a guttural, deep voice questioned as he gave the already throbbing shaft a few pumps, pre-cum angrily leaking from its tip. “Show me that you want it,” he challenged with a hungry growl.

Within an instant, your hands glided down to your burning cunt, fingertips hooking underneath your panties waistband, before pulling them down to your ankles as well.

Back arched as you dipped two fingers into your pulsing clit, spreading your pussy apart for him to see, juices leaking onto the desk below you, pooling as you panted.

“Please, Carlos,” you begged helplessly again, your bottom lip bouncing back from being caught in your teeth, chest rising and falling erratically with your overbearing need for him. “I need you.”

Carlos licked his lips at the sight of your leaking cunt, large hands coming to grip your thighs tightly, keeping them spread with ease.

He pointed the reddened tip at your folds, before thrusting deeply into your pussy in one sharp movement. A loud moan escaped your lips, hips bucking upwards to meet his controlled thrusts deep into your cunt.

Thumb trailed to your clit, adding extra stimulation as he twirled circles around it, allowing more moans to escape your lips uncontrollably. Eyes began to roll back in pleasure as your walls fluttered against Carlos’s cock, chasing your release relentlessly.

“Fuck, so good f’me, princesa,” he gruffly panted, gripping your thighs so tightly they started to bruise, thrusts deeper and harder as he chased his own release with gritted teeth. His mind was going fuzzy with the pleasure, the only sounds heard from inside the room being low groans and high pitched moans.

The coiled tightened in your stomach, the intensity of your orgasm reaching its peak as you cried out, hips moving with Carlos’s raging rhythm, walls fluttering against his cock, tightly milking him dry as your eyes went fully backwards.

You gasped, eyes widened as you rode out your high, followed with Carlos pushing himself deep inside of you, his cum shooting out of his length, your walls squeezing him dry as the ropes leaked out of your aching cunt.

Smiling whilst dazed, Carlos slipped his softening dick out of your pussy. You giggled, “thank you, Carlos,” you added with a cheeky grin, your combined juices leaking down your thigh onto the desk below.

He laughed a breathy laugh in return, lips lingering above your temple, before pressing a soft kiss there. “You're welcome, cariño,” he chuckled with a smirk, before straightening himself up, reaching for his boxers.

“You better get yourself cleaned, princesa. There's still a party happening to attend,” he hummed contently.

mafia carlos IM RIGHT HERE BABY. i don't care if your job is toxic and crazy as shit I'M RIGHT HERE. i'm going to lose the plot. - notti <3

[thatgentlewife-deactivated]

Welcome to My Blog!

Hi there, lovely! I’m so glad you’re here. I’m a 20-year-old wife, homemaker, and most importantly, a servant of Jesus Christ. I was blessed to marry my wonderful husband in November 2024, and every day, I strive to honor God by embracing biblical womanhood, nurturing my marriage, and cultivating a home filled with love, warmth, and faith.

I believe in living a life that reflects God’s perfect design—one of gentleness, purity, and devotion. My heart is set on serving Christ first and foremost, and second to Him, my husband, whom I joyfully submit to as my leader and protector. I cherish the beauty of traditional values, which shape every part of my life—spiritually, emotionally, and physically.

What I Stand For

✨ The Sanctity of Life

This blog is pro-life, because every child is fearfully and wonderfully made by God (Psalm 139:13-16). Life begins at conception, and every baby has a God-given purpose. I believe in supporting women with love, resources, and guidance so that no mother feels alone in choosing life.

✨ The Dangers of Pornography

This blog is anti-porn, because pornography destroys hearts, marriages, and intimacy as God intended it. It turns real love into something selfish and empty, leading to addiction, shame, and broken relationships. I believe in fighting for purity and God-honoring relationships that reflect true, selfless love.

✨ Biblical Marriage & Submission

I believe in God’s design for marriage—a covenant between one man and one woman. As a wife, I embrace submission as a beautiful, biblical calling, trusting my husband’s leadership and honoring him in my words, actions, and heart. Love, respect, and obedience to God’s Word create a strong, joyful, and lasting marriage.

✨ Domestic Discipline

I believe that domestic discipline is a personal choice that should be made mutually and consensually between a husband and wife. While it’s not for everyone, I support a couple’s right to practice it if they believe it strengthens their marriage. When approached with love, respect, and biblical principles, it can provide structure, accountability, and deeper trust. As long as both spouses agree and it is done in a way that honors their relationship, I see it as a valid and beneficial dynamic for those who choose it.

✨ Biblical Womanhood & Femininity

I am passionate about biblical femininity, modesty, and creating a home that reflects Christ’s love. I believe true beauty isn’t just about how we look, but about having a gentle, quiet spirit (1 Peter 3:4). In a world that devalues womanhood, I strive to embrace my role as a wife and future mother with joy and grace.

✨ My Perspective on Feminism

I do not agree with today’s version of feminism, which rejects traditional femininity, submission, and the beauty of God’s design. However, I do believe women should have the right to vote and make choices for themselves. Women are not less valuable than men, but we are beautifully different, and our strengths should be celebrated rather than diminished by a culture that seeks to erase them.

✨ My Beliefs on Gender & Sexuality

I personally do not believe men can become women or that women can become men. I do not agree with the LGBTQ lifestyle, and you will not find me in support of it on this blog. However, I have nothing against those who choose to live this way—you are a valuable human being, just like the rest of us. My belief is simply that marriage was created by God to be between a biological man and a biological woman. If you disagree, this may not be the blog for you.

A Few Things About Me

• I love to cook! (I once dreamed of being a chef, but my heart is too tender for the food industry.)

• Children are my joy! I work in childcare and find so much fulfillment in nurturing little hearts.

• I love reading! (The Phantom Tollbooth is my favorite book!)

• I enjoy poetry, songwriting, and drawing. (I may not be the best artist, but I love creating beauty in every form!)

• I make soap, lotion, and tinctures as I learn more about natural living.

• I strive to be a good, submissive wife and grow in grace, patience, and humility every day.

Why I Started This Blog

Marriage is a journey, and I want to share mine with you—the joys, the lessons, and the ways God is shaping me into a better wife and homemaker. My goal is to encourage other women to embrace biblical womanhood, cherish their marriages, and build homes that reflect God’s love. ❤️

If you value faith, femininity, and the beauty of a God-centered life, you’re in the right place. I pray that this blog blesses and encourages you as we grow together in grace and truth.

With love,

thatgentlewife

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

Once upon a time, there was a Good Omens fanfiction reader, who swore they didn't like AUs.

They read all the discussions about the 'classics', the 'must reads' and shrugged.

"But it's not canon", they muttered to themself. "They're not human. How on Earth can anyone write these stories about them when they're not actually bloody human? It’s not right."

And then, dear reader, they were persuaded to read just one AU. They were still an angel and a demon, just in a slightly different universe. And then...then they tried a human AU. And then...then they were hooked. Obsessed, one might say.

That reader, dear reader, was me. Of course. Obviously. Well, duh. And I would like to share the obsession in the form of some recommendations.

I have the wonderful @shadesofecclescakes to thank for MANY of these absolute beauties, she is absolutely the QUEEN of recommendations (and medicinal gifs).

So, now, in no particular order, some Highly Recommended AUs:

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison Rated E - A is a bookseller, C is a drummer, they are BOTH petty bitches. They're newly neighbours. C has a CAT and I'm there for it, he also has migraines and I hard relate. It's bitchy and the pranks were DIVINE. It was also deliciously spicy. The loveliness is that the author really captured the flawed nature of humans but also how it can be overcome. Same author as What We Make of It (what was Shotgun Wedding - an absolute GO AU CLASSIC and one of the best things I've ever read)

Not a Mounted Dildo but a Fuck Machine by NaroMoreau & summerofspock Rated E - So very, very E. This one was just filthy. So wonderfully filthy. The authors would like to tell you there was no plot to their porn, but there really was. A meets a girl online, because A is straight. He really is. Honest. But then, oops, lockdown happens. But, it's a good thing, really. For his best homeboy C is there, to help this poor virgin 'learn the ropes' for when lockdown is over and he goes on his first date...with the girl he's so very much into...coz, no homo, yo...;)

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down by WyvernQuill Rated M - An AU in the way that it's still angel/demon but after Crowley makes a wish for things to be 'different', the universe obliges...and he's dumped into a reality which is very, very different to what he knew. He learns some truths and there's a whole lot of drama. Beautifully written with a wonderful plot and great drama. Excellently described and would make for great TV. (Oh, and Death in the new reality is really squeamish - it's brilliant.)

Telling Tall Tales by Siobhans_World Rated E - A sweet pretend relationship fic, where A pretends to be Maggie's boyfriend to help her pass as straight for her family. But he then meets her cousin, C, who he then inevitably (ineffably?) falls for. Miscommunication, angst, fluff, gay panic, it's got everything.

Flawless by @mrghostrat & @chernozemm Rated E - I've decided only to include one fic by each author and boyyy was it hard for ghostrat! But Flawless was, well, flawless. For such a relatively short story, it kept us guessing until the end. The characters were all beautifully written - the flaws (ha.) were DEEP and CRACKED but so fucking perfectly sculpted and presented. It was incredibly real and believable. Extremely maturely written and satisfying. AND THE ART!!!

How To Pull An Angel: A Bunnings DIY Guide by NascentSurrender Rated M - When I first saw the title, I thought it was going to be a silly, irreverent, comedy romp. But it was actually a funny, well written story that will stick in my mind always. Firstly, C watches Bluey - which is now CANON for me. Secondly, having lived in Aus as a child, I've got a soft spot for the country anyway, and I've barely ever seen it come up, so this was lovely. There were some wonderfully humorous bits, but also tender and beautiful moments that I adored.

Montreal Confidential by Maggie_Honeybite Rated E - I learned about Montreal (and Canada & their baked goods), classical music and mafia stuff in this fic. A is a widower. C plays the cello. His cello's name is Bentley. This is one of the only age-gap, mild D/s fics I've actually gotten into. There's fluff AND drama. CW for non-con (not A/C)

Under the Summer Stars by @pannotbread Rated E - an amazing astrophysics/astroecology/astrobiology fic that has pining, slow burn and Only One Telescope (yes, really, and it's everything you'd imagine). It's got beautifully written (erotic) imagery and So Much Science that's been written accessibly but still with amazing detail. It's poetry. It's hot. It's gorgeous. CW for internalised homophobia and self hatred. *Not completed yet*

Oddity by @tsyvia48 Rated E - A museum fic! About David Bowie! A is in charge of collections, C is an actor hired by (highly incompetent) Gabriel to guest curate a new Bowie exhibit. Miscommunication ensues for delicious tension. There's bitchiness, there's a bit of light angst, there's a lotta love. *Not Completed Yet* Poetry Carved In Flesh by @fellandcrow Rated E - I'm obsessed by tattoos. Hence, I am obsessed by this story. I'm planning a(n enormous) GO tattoo once GO3 is out, and this fic has actually helped me with my ideas. London-based A stalks lovingly follows Edinburgh-based tattoo artist C online. They build up a rapport. Well, C likes A. A is SMITTEN with C. C encourages A to get tattoos. Which he does. C designs a tattoo especially for A, the fic has currently left off at the point where C is in London and going to tattoo A. *Not Completed Yet*

There Is A Light & It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se Rated M - A escapes from a disappointing, chaotic life to a remote island for five months to do research on puffins. There he meets lighthouse keeper C. Who also ran away, 20 odd years ago. There is a chaotic, found family on the island, but it is small, and it is lovely. This fic is written with love and passion and the imagery is so beautiful. The author has actually gone to do Actual. Physical. Research. on puffins. So how is THAT for dedication? Cannot wait until it resumes. *Not Completed Yet*

Ok, because I am Bad At Tumblr, I've not tagged the majority of authors, if you are on here - please let me know if you're here and I'll edit!

I should probably add in the following, I suppose. I'm writing an AU.

Free by, well, me. Imposterssyndrome (yes I know it's Imposter Syndrome, but that one already existed) Rated E - A runs a bookshop, C has an unfortunate past as a runaway ex-addict. They meet in an acute mental health ward after both having had a mental health crisis. Eventually A invites C to move in, and they navigate sharing a space, and their lives together. The story starts heavy, and is an emotional roller coaster, but there are moments of fluff and smut mixed in. There is a happy ending, I promise. It's a passion project, heavily researched and has a LOT of lived experience in it. I've gotten to know some amazing people through it who have messaged me and shared their experiences and I'm so glad I wrote it. *Not Completed Yet*

Last thing to say - once I finish Free, I will be teaming up with @shadesofecclescakes to write another human AU which is VERY much in her wheelhouse and I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT. I just know you're all going to LOVE it. The only thing that will make it even better is ART, so we're still on the hunt for someone.

**Last-last thing to say. I’ve missed off a few Biggies. There are some super popular AUs, mostly written around 2019. Most people will have read them. I’ve tried to focus on the perhaps lesser-known & WIP ones. Although I know many people don’t read WIPs, hopefully you’ll (book)mark them for future!**

[eddiebrockrambles]

My thoughts on Venom 3:

Warning, spoilers!

I liked it, but there’s a ‘but’.

So. I loved the first half. The dog scene was fantastic! And felt very true to them. The knocking people out part seemed a bit against Eddie’s morals, but was alright. The introduction of other symbiotes was cool. Seeing more of a focus on scientists and Jim as being imoortant characters —not just bodies— was really nice. And horse and FISH VENOM were EPIC!

I loved the ‘Space Oddity’ part, the Van family, and how you could see that Eddie was too hyper vigilant and dissociative to really be able to connect to the ‘fun’ aspects the others were enjoying. It was really bittersweet and made me feel strongly about his arc ending up where they can be happy together, even if it’s after some gnarly things, and even if the threats aren’t entirely gone. This was poignant and could have developed nicely.

But. Compared to the other two, and especially the first, I found the Knull plot to be too large scale, detracting from the two of them. The first film was like an Alien film, rooted in science. It was captivating to me, and an awesome take. I loved the interplay between the characters. Then they made it more like ‘purple man with gemstones and magic’ and maybe if it were directed by Guillermo Del Toro it would have worked, but to me, the based-in-science thing felt more like ‘them’. The Knull thing feels like sloppy writing, and a cop-out.

The Codex didn’t fully make sense, the xenophages were ‘Mary Sue’ characters, it didn’t feel like venom really died (which I’m very glad about, be it cockroach or viral shedding, but just wasn’t as emotive as I expected), the latter half lost the grit and feeling of ‘Eddie and Venom’, the montage music was an awful choice, and the Statue of Liberty scene lacked any real depth.

They coulda taken it further with the grittiness and showed how broken down Eddie would feel. They could have had more of Eddie asking ‘why’ than just going along with Venom’s decision to sacrifice himself. They could have hidden the codex and found weaknesses. They could have had a smaller scale threat, but still uniting humans and symbiotes.

They could even have worked with former ‘Life foundation’ employees to find a way to defeat the xenophages, and explored the conflicting feelings they’d have. They coulda experimented on Eddie. They could have interrogated him or all set out a clear plan. Tom Hardy’s acting is amazing and there were so many routes they could have taken to showcase it.

They needed to fuck off with the production queer baiting and have actually given us some solid romance and moments of closeness for the two of them. Even just Venom reassuring Eddie in a way we haven’t seen before.

The latter half just felt lackluster. There were great elements to it, but the montage and magical or occult elements dampened it for me.

Maybe I just feel like they deserved a PG16/18/R rating, given how beautifully intense and gritty this film could have been.

Venom 2018 captured it wonderfully.

[luxet0bscuritas-blog]

October 2024 // books that magically found their way into my home this month.

The Latern of Lost Memories by Sanaka Hiragi

Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

Medusa by Jessie Burton, wonderfully illustrated by Olivia Lomenech Gill

The Full Moon Coffee Shop by Mai Mochizuki

Sämtliche Erzählungen / The complete stories by Adalbert Stifter

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

What you are looking for is in the library by Michiko Aoyama

Selected Works of the Brontë Sisters

Sorcery and Small Magics by Maiga Doocy

Back in summer, I stumbled upon Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa and I fell in love with its atmospheric simplicity while simultaneously addressing important issues like loneliness, illness and the societal discrimination that comes with it. I was intrigued to read more Japanese fiction, and it seemed like I wasn't the only one. Bookstores in my town jumped on this interest as well and in a section specifically decorated for Japanese fiction, I found The Latern of Lost Memories and What you are looking for is in the library.

Carmilla is a book that I absolutely adore and I've been eager to replace my worn-out edition, filled with post-its and notes, with a beautiful hardback version, and I've stumbled across this gem last week. I am just waiting for a rainy evening to cuddle myself into a warm blanket with some freshly brewed tea before I let myself get lost in this wonderfully haunting gothic classic.

Medusa has a special place in my heart as it quite beautifully rewrites the myth of the Gorgon monstrosity, highlighting the vulnerability of being human amidst unjust power dynamics. Medusa explores the difficulties and challenges of being a woman in a world made by men and also the struggles men eventually face in the world they've created against men and women. The narrative is both heart-breaking and heart-warming, capturing the complexities of gender in a profound way.

I couldn't resist taking The Full Moon Coffee Shop with me. There are cats on the cover, and the story revolves around a magically appearing café entirely run by cats. :3 I've got pretty high expectations of this little tale.

I also recently purchased Adalbert Stifter's "Sämtliche Erzählungen" to delve a bit deeper into the nuanced craftsmanship of this often-overlooked literary figure. Amongst lovers of his stories, he is celebrated for his profound exploration of nature, human emotion, and moral philosophy.

Howl's Moving Castle was a pre-order from Fairyloot, but I received it this month. Ugh, this book and the movie just feels like home to me, and I know that I am not the only one. I got a little teary-eyed because whenever I revisit stories, movies, or games from my childhood that have carved themselves into my heart, I realize how much time has passed and how fleeting life is, but it's a great reminder to appreciate the magic that not only surrounded us as children, but that is still there in adulthood. We just have to be willing to see it.

The Selected Works of the Brontë sisters consists of classics that are an absolute necessity to my little library. I've always loved classics where female characters and the portrayal of femininity challenge societal norms, a passion that began during my university days when I wrote term papers on gender and femininity in Victorian literature. The Brontës’ powerful narratives continue to inspire with their bold depictions of women navigating a heteronormative, restrictive society.

Sorcery and Small Magics was part of Fairyloot's October adult-subscription box that I receive monthly. It's the first book of "The Wildersongs Trilogy" and the story revolves around Leovander Loveage who specializes in small magics, like summoning butterflies or turning hair into different colours. Powerful spells always backfire on him, so he swears not cast them ever again. But after a forbidden spell binds him to his nemesis, Sebastian Grimm, they must find a counterspell, and their search leads them on a journey filled with monsters and outlaws, and Leovander needs to confront his true magical potential. Of course this wouldn't be a typical contemporary fantasy tale without some romance, so I expect a typical enemies-to-lovers story with this one.

[ghcstao3]

ok more natm statue!ghoap because i’m insane

(edit: part 2 !!)

-

John has long since lost track of how long he’d been a display in the museum when Simon arrives.

His room had been sectioned off one morning, about an hour after sunrise, which is typically indicative of one of three things: repairs, renovations, or a new addition to the exhibit. And whichever it is, it has excitement thrumming through John, waiting to be released come the next night.

He’s always been a fan of change, however insignificant.

And come two hours after the ropes are set up at every entrance to the room, in is rolled a statue of John’s size, a translucent tarp draped over the carving itself as John had once found himself to be, however many years ago. Museum employees work quickly to install the new piece, plaque and pedestal and all, and once that tarp is removed—if John had lungs, he thinks his breath might’ve been stolen away.

Simon—or Ghost, as his placard reads, and as John first knows him as—is the most beautifully carved statue John has seen in his centuries of existence. It’s clear that his details were etched into pale stone with care and love, every fold of fake cloth, every wrinkle of false skin intricate and deliberate.

The separate slate of stone that serves as a piece of skull to mask Ghost’s face is more than intriguing enough for John to know he wants to meet the other statue the moment the museum closes that night. He knows he want to be the one to introduce Ghost to the world of the living the museum is so generous to offer, no matter how limited it is.

He has to be the one.

It’s no surprise, once the exhibit is reopened, that so many visitors flock around Ghost. John wishes he could be among them, warm and brimming with real, human life—but at the same time, he’s also happy to be where he is, with the opportunity to stare at Ghost forever.

John feels giddy, contained within his frozen form, when the final call announcements sound. When he feels the freeing magic loosen his limbs, his joints slow to movement, he’s immediately off his pedestal to wander over to Ghost.

Who has yet to move.

He knows the first night for any new display is strange. Some are hesitant, unwilling to break their original form. Others are eager, the first to wake.

John had been the latter.

“I wanted to welcome you,” John says, staring up at Ghost. He can tell Ghost knows he can relax his pose, and yet he remains tense. “My name’s John. Do you have a name?”

Piercing eyes shift to peer down at John. Still, Ghost does not move. A beat, a lull of silence if not for the other displays also coming to life, then, “Can’t you read?”

John grins. Ghost’s voice is wonderful deep, wonderfully full. “I can,” he replies, tilting his head. “But sometimes that isn’t the right name.”

Ghost’s jaw shifts, his shoulders finally dropping, the hand that’s poised and holding his mask in place falling away with the skull to reveal a face just as stunning as the rest of his composition, all sharp lines and smooth stone. He still watches John from above, though now with a gentle curiosity that holds questions that would never be asked, at least not tonight.

Quietly, almost timid, Ghost amends, “Simon. That’s my name.”

“Well, Simon.” John extends a hand out to Simon to help him off his pedestal. To John’s surprise, Simon doesn’t hesitate to take it—and again, he feels that in another life, he’d be breathless by now. “Why don’t I show you around?”

What he means to say, is that he looks forward to an eternity alongside Simon, the magnificent piece of art that he is.

And he hopes some day, Simon will feel the same.

[great20sworld]

LIVING THE DREAM

A Viktor x Reader fanfiction

Summary: What happens when a mundane Monday night becomes the start of your dimensional journey? You, an ordinary human with an even ordinary life is transported to the wondrous world of your imagination, to the city of Runettera, meeting your favourite characters in their own world. Will you survive and find the life of your dreams, or would you be another unfortunate lost case in dimension travelling?

Chapter 1: The lucky day or not

_______________________________

"Okay."

"This is getting out of hand."

You thought to yourself as you sat amoungst your self-built shrine of all that was beloved to you- maybe more than your own life. Your fingers were beginning to ache from all the restless typing and scrolling and your eyes were burning in the middle of the night as the easy read light rays from your phone strained your retina. Your walls were lined with pictures of them. Your "shrine", made of plushies, print out fan arts and keychains was all for them.

Your beloved, cherished, life saving yet almost detrimental obsession of a fandom...

Arcane.

You hadn't ever gotten yourself this deep in the fan culture or worried about the character arcs or stuck in theorising about the upcoming events or shipping two characters, as you have now. It had taken over your life, even your job and friends.

Also, you knew you won't be crawling out of this wonderfully crafted pit anytime soon. Neither the appeal of the show nor the fan community would let you. The story had inspired you to create and to consume. You had been called "cringe" and "obsessive" by many, but did you mind?

Absolutely not. Anything for your characters.

_______________________

You looked at the pause screen in your television, as you ate another biscuit. It was currently zoomed in on one of the main characters. His thin lean skeletal figure leaning against the cane by his side, held by his beautifully long phalanges. Two beauty spots adorning his face- one at the corner of his lips and another right below his eye, gaunt, pale features reigned by indomitable focus. His hair, longer than what would be considered "short" for a man, covering the sides of his face, as his golden eyes showed an expression of interest at something written on a half exploded chalk board, his lips slightly parted as if he were going to say something; as soon as you click the resume button.

You weren't going to anytime soon.

Oh no, you wanted to admire him. For he was your favourite.

You chuckled at the funny expression the particular scene was paused in. Then your laughter softens as you smile to yourself, lost in admiring the beauty of a soul who doesn't even exist in your world, or rather doesn't exist at all.

If only...

Oh well....

You hit the resume button.

Suddenly, as you were about to bite into another treat, and hear the melodic Czech accent from the man onscreen, your focus was interrupted by a loud crash.

Glass shattering...

You sat up, alarmed, as the power goes out.

Wasn't this just your lucky day!

You shivered slightly. Not much of a fan of the dark, oh you were not. Feeling your way upto the emergency lamp, you made your way to the kitchen, from where you had heard the glass shattering as well.

Probably the mice in your attic has found its way down through the holes in the ceiling again. The repairman could never fix it, no matter how much money they charged you. So, you had to take matters into your one hands with mouse traps and super glues, with your own additions to the design ofcourse. You weren't a freelance science researcher for nothing! Best to be cautious of shattered glass though....

You were greeted with the sight of a glowing watch lying on the floor (and the shattered glass of your windows), the sole source of glowing golden light, much brighter than a candle light in the entire room. Cautiously, but with curiousity, you gently lean in, to take a closer look.

Woah...

This wasn't one of your typical monday nights.

The "watch" (if you could even call it that) displayed not a dial with needles, but a small projection of what seemed to be...bubbles. Lots and lots of golden ones, floating over it, like a 3d floating model of the solar system. The circular rim of the watch were filled with tiny buttons, all very minute for you to even make out the strange symbols in them. You find yourself mesmerised by the patterns forming over the surface each time the "watch" ticked. However, your observation was interrupted by two voices outside.

"Did you forget to switch it off atleast? If it falls into the wrong hands..."

A gruff, scratching voice demands, as if loosing its patience.

"Well...if you had given me the time to, I certainly would have, steve!"

Another said, though this sounded a lot more squeakier, but not lacking in arrogance.

"You idiot!" Steve (as you think) cries out. "Now look what you've done Charon, we're trapped...in one of these human contraptions, shame on us... And we've lost the Chronoporter!"

Your eyes widen. "Human traps"? "Chronoporter" ?

Charon huffs, clearly unamused by his partner's ranting. "Why you gotta be so negative?" Then, "and why did we even name it Chronoporter?"

A sound which can only be described as a whine and a grunt is heard, before "Charon" yelps.

"Ow! Don't zap me!"

"Charon! When I said you need to find a way out of this trap, I didn't mean throw the Chronoporter!" Then, "and you know 'Chronoporter' sounds cool. I got it from an earthling tv show!"

"Steve, you ever watch those...human action movies, with violence and stuff?"

"No..?"

"Well, in those, when the main character gets stuck, they throw around objects to reach buttons which will release them."

"....."

"when we're back in Neutrinoverse cloud, do remind me to fire you from the next mission."

Charon giggles. "But you can't, Steve! Without the Chronoporter, we can't jump worlds!"

Steve growls.

Your curiousity gets the best of you. You gently peek out from behind the door at the dark streets, lit only by the farway street lamps, not powered by your power station.

Oh...

Oh those aren't humans or mice that are caught in your trap.

Absolutely bizarre.

Infact, you didn't even want to know what Steve and Charon were. The scientist in you flinches at her own words. But, sometimes it will be like that. Their loss that they will end up in a research facility somewhere, which is not yours.

You take a step back, and your feet crunches on a piece of the shattered window, crackling under your shoe. Your breath hitches as two "heads" (if you can call it that) turn towards you. Theirs "eyes" glinting with what your literature induced mind thinks to be malice.

The creatures stood before you an incomprehensible mass that defied logic and reason. You found yourself assigning familiar features to its shape to maintain your sanity. Its "head" loomed large, though it was merely a suggestion of one, a focal point in the writhing chaos which you hoped for their sake could perform bodily functions. You imagined eyes, though they were more like voids where eyes should be, black and depthless. A "nose" seemed to form, an abstract bump. Its "limbs" twisted and undulated, not truly arms or legs, but extensions of its amorphous body that you forced into a semblance of limbs. The creature was a nightmare made tangible, a thing that could only be described by the mind's desperate attempt to impose order on the formless. One creature's "mouth" opens, though what you expected was a series of gurgles or yelps, this one spoke in an accent unknown to you, but in perfect English nonetheless.

"oh! Hello there...human! Can you help us?"

You stood there, stunned, your mouth gaping wide open at the creature.

"I don't think she heard you Steve..."

"shut up, Charon, I'm speaking in an earthling's language, the settings haven't changed."

"hey, umm...could you toss the Chronoporter back here to me?"

The creature gestures with finger like appendage to the "watch" that was laying on the floor. So that was it...

"the Chronoporter...back...here...to...us!"

"Charon, she's not stupid come on, don't be demeaning..."

"well she's just staring right now, Steve..."

You spoke up quickly. If this was what you think it is... Oh gosh, won't you be rich and famous with wealth and fame unfathomable by your little mind!

"um...yes...uh...what does it do?" You ask, softly.

"oh! She speaks!" Steve exclaims before continuing, "Um... Yes, the Chronoporter... You earthlings don't have it but, it's a highly useful device in our dimension, which can help to...in your words... Transport the body and mind to another dimension, whichever is desirable for you."

By all that was holy, this was your lucky day!

Two aliens and a hitech gadget?! You need to tell someone! Anyone! Any organisation perhaps? Maybe your friend will help?

You grab the "Chronoporter" and make a rush for it, your fingers clutched around the metallic straps of it, electrical buzzing sharp on your tender skin, but ecstatic on your sensations.

"what...Hey! Stop! What are you...!"

You pointedly ignore the loud shouts and curses coming from behind you, as you make your way outside. The darkness of the power outage hadn't felt any less unimportant than it was today, this moment. You've never felt this exhilarated before, not even that time when you fixed the computer of your boss, and everyone cheered.

You pinch yourself. It hurts.

It wasn't a dream!

You rush to your nearest friend's house, when all of a sudden...

"Choose your next location."

"Please select the next desired option."

You look down at the Chronoporter. It was starting to buzz, to beep loudly and that mechanical voice was in urgency.

"INITIATING AUTOMATIC SHUT DOWN IN... 5...4...3...2..."

"No....No...NO!"

You press the brightest button.

Won't you be delighted?

_______________________________

Chapter 2 available NOW in my Tumblr page.

[justjudethoughts]

"My life isn't interesting, I wish I lived in a story world." But you do. Don't you see?

Every person you have ever met is better than your most favorite characters because they are real. They are flesh and blood and bone. They have dreams and aspirations and stories that would make you laugh until your side hurts and others that would make you weep.

Every place you have ever lived has left its mark on you, formed you in some way. Your life is a series of sequential events that change you and build you and help make you the person you see when you look in the mirror. You think thousands upon thousands of thoughts a day, and you have a certain, unique way of processing the world around you. It's been built by every part of your life.

There are themes that repeat in your life, a little golden strand of thread that shows up again and again, in new and surprising ways. We love when an author weaves themes through stories because that's how it is in our own lives--all of human history is a magnificent tapestry we can't quite see yet, but we get to find some of the patterns, the threads, the bits that weave together here and there and we get to take part in them. And sometimes, with glorious serendipity, those dandelion wishes you made as a kid come true decades later.

I'm sure you've seen that post that says you are made up of pieces of everyone you have ever loved, and it's true. But more than that, you are made up of the love of thousands of generations, all of your ancestors who lived and laughed and cried and loved to get you here. Years upon years of suffering and joy and sweat and blood and heartbreak and beauty and humanity. You come from all of that. You are a part of all of that. You are a piece in a story filled with magnificent characters---dashing heroes, harrowing villains, and some people stuck somewhere in the middle, wondering where it is they belong.

Fantasy worlds are only so beautiful because this one is. You can't build something out of nothing, and every author who has ever created a world pulled from this one. The Silver Sea in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader is ethereal because lilies are. The Shire is cozy because pastures and small cottages are. 35 Portland Row feels like home because messy kitchens and warm, yellow light, and burnt toast and laughter feel like home.

Don't you see?

You are real. You are wonderfully real and alive. You are splintered and broken in a million ways but you are beautifully, gloriously human. You are more important, more unique, more unrepeatable than any of your favorite characters--because no matter how skillful the author who wrote them was, they are not as skillful as the Author who wrote you.

You live in a world where you can read the words of someone long dead, and feel that you have found a kindred spirit. You can try a bunch of types of tea and coffee and pick your favorite one. You can memorize lyrics to a song and show it to a friend and say "this is what my soul sounds like when it breaks."

You can feel.

And feeling means it will hurt sometimes. But it means you are real. It means you are alive. It means you can be moved by love and life and beauty and sorrow.

And one day, when the shadow has passed, when this world has come to an end, we'll see the whole tapestry. We'll see how all the dark bits inadvertently gave victory to the light. And how the picture is more glorious for the broken bits, shattered and sewn back together, than it ever would have been, had we never left the Garden.

[runninriot]

written for @subeddieweek

complete fic posted on ao3

Sweet Thing

rated: E | tags: Client Eddie Munson, Pro Dom Steve Harrington, restraints, sensation play (nipple clamps, pinwheel), 18+ content | snippet, complete fic and tag list on ao3

He shouldn’t have favourites. Shouldn’t feel drawn more to one than to others. They’re all equal, all deserve the best (worst) treatment. It’s a job, a very unusual one but a job nonetheless. He’s here to serve, to execute what he’s being paid for – to make secret fantasies come true and not to succumb to his own.

But ever since the curly haired angel stepped foot into his dungeon some months ago, Steve found it hard to keep it strictly professional.

There is something about that man, Eddie, that messes with Steve’s head in a way he can’t really explain.

He’s good-looking, with dark ink scattered all over his pale skin. Slender but with defined muscles in his shoulders and arms. Has strong thighs, an ass that looks much too biteable, and he has these big, round puppy dog eyes that are especially pretty when they’re red-rimmed and teary.

Eddie is really something to look at and maybe that is why Steve is so hung up on him.

Thankfully, he’s good at pretending.

Can hide the fact that – although not in a physical sense – each session with him is as fulfilling for Steve as it is for the beautiful man currently splayed out on top of the latex sheets.

It’s a real treat to watch him writhe and shiver, his muscles tense from the enormous effort it takes for Eddie to try to hold still.

He fails miserably, can’t keep his arms and legs from instinctively tugging at the restraints keeping him bound to the bed.

Steve leans in close to Eddie’s ear, lips purposely grazing the shell to let the vibration of his voice tickle his skin.

   “Didn’t I tell you not to move?”

   “Y-yes. ‘M sorry.”

Eddie strains his neck, obviously trying to bring some distance between himself and Steve’s mouth but he can’t get far.

   “Y-yes,” Steve mocks him as he repeats Eddie’s stuttering response. “Yes what? Think you forgot something there, sweet thing. Do I have to remind you of the rules?”

Steve grabs him by his throat, the press of his fingers tight enough to force a desperate gasp out of him.

With his other hand, he tightens the clamp on Eddie’s left nipple, turns the screw once, twice until a pathetic little whimper leaves Eddie’s shiny, parted lips.

   “Yes, Sir! I’m sorry, Sir. I- please, it hurts.”

    Good, Steve laughs to himself, satisfied with the way Eddie already has this trembling in his voice like he’s close to crying. And isn’t that a beautiful thought. Eddie is always so pretty when he cries.

   “You gonna behave now and stay still?”

Steve takes a moment to marvel at the view he’s presented with.

Eddie’s eyes are wet, a sheer layer of unshed tears glistening in the dim light of the candles shining down on them from the sideboard to their left.

He is tied down, arms and legs forming an x-shape where he’s spread out like a human sacrifice at the altar. His whole body is a gorgeous work of art. Not only because of the tattoos adorning his skin that is beautifully flushed from his face down to his chest.

His pinched nipples are bright pink from the clamps biting harshly into the sensitive buds.

The picture is perfected by the sight of Eddie’s hard cock straining against his stomach, so desperate to be touched.

Not yet, though. Eddie is Steve’s to play with for a little while longer, is his to be used. And he will drag this out for as long as he can, won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of relief until he is satisfied with his own work.

Steve reaches over to the sideboard, grabs the Wartenberg wheel that’s been waiting there patiently to come into action.

Eddie is a sucker for sensation play. He is so sensitive, reacts so wonderfully to any prickling, stinging, thudding feeling afflicted on his body. Whether it’s with the light, tickling touch of a feather or the quick, sharp burn of hot wax drizzling over his body; he’s so easy to please.

Steve starts on his left, presses the pinwheel against his skin, and lets it roll from his shackled ankle up over his calf. Eddie squirms and whines furiously when the prickling sensation reaches the back of his knee and not for the first time, Steve is glad not to be on the receiving end of things. Eddie’s trembling and twisting gets worse, the further Steve rolls the wheel up the inside of his thigh, playing with the degree of pressure he uses to prick Eddie’s sensitive skin.

He repeats the procedure on Eddie’s right, watches his skin break out in goose bumps while his cock twitches hard at the overwhelming sensation that’s crossing the line between slight discomfort and actual pain - just what Eddie wants.

Eddie gives up on trying to get away, finally accepting that he’s going nowhere. He’s entirely at Steve’s mercy, who keeps going, ruthlessly dragging the pinwheel across the underside of his arms and down his sides, spurred on by Eddie’s pathetic moans.

   “Please, Sir! ‘S too much!” He begs as if that could convince Steve to end his teasing torture.

Eddie knows what to do if he wants him to stop. And Steve knows what Eddie can take.

He always gets so whiny when Steve treats him right. He’s a dream to play with. So easily breakable, so willing to give up control and let Steve take him apart in whichever way he pleases.

So beautiful when he slowly loses his mind, pushed closer and closer to the edge until he’s free falling.

The only problem is that Steve has a hard time not to lose himself.

[chvnnie]

hey. hey. do you. have any. perhaps. thoughts. about minho.

FUNNY YOU SHOULD I ASK I WAS QUITE LITERALLY JUST THINKING ABOUT NOEASY ERA MINHO, SPECIFICALLY CHEESE MV MINHO.

there’s just. something about that motorcycle.

the leather vest, the way his hair is so perfectly slicked back. the way the green light of the bar highlights his feature perfectly, sharp jaw nudging against your collarbones as he looses himself in your neck.

sharp teeth dig into the skin, only soothed by the jolting of his tongue. the marks deepening in color. minho commits time to making sure of it.

it was a risky move — his larger hand in yours, tugged out the backdoor. through the rows of cars until you found the motorcycle you’re all too familiar with.

he chuckles when you pull at his shirt, alcohol making you needier than you should be. “are you sure this is a good idea?” the brisk late winter air pricks his neck and he’s suddenly very aware of how exposed you both are.

you hum, the hands on his shoulders gently pushing him back. the vehicle moves slightly under his weight, minho squeezing the edge of the seat to stay grounded. “straddle it.”

those two shots really gave you some confidence, huh? “your wish is my command.” he climbs onto it, leaving a little space between his lap and the handles for you. it’s lucky you wore a skirt today; hiking it up as you take a seat on him.

your clothed core rolls against his rough jeans. head rolled back in pleasure, you moan into the open air, drowned out only slightly by the music floating out of the bar. as pretty as you think minho is, he’s convinced you’re not human. how can flesh and blood be so ethereal? the marks he left on you earlier are angry. broken skin glowing under your sweat and the moonlight.

god, you just exist and minho is smitten. prepared to walk into the depths of hell if it meant a second alone with you.

“fuck, baby.” he groans, hands on your hips lifting you ever so slightly. the loss of contact makes your head snap back up, pouting at him with your plush lips. “need to feel you.”

you work quickly with his belt, letting it hit the gravel next to the bike’s tire. within seconds, his cock is out — beautifully curved and hard in your grasp.

there’s no time for prep, not when the voices of the friday night crowd are starting to filter outside. people ready to call it a night at almost midnight. pulling your panties to the side, you line your hole with the head of him, quickly sliding down despite the sting.

groaning in unison, minho grabs the nape of your neck. lips slam against yours, moving in a mess of heat and teeth and tongue. the taste of his whiskey fills your mouth, and god. god you feel far more intoxicated than you actually are thanks to him.

“that’s it.” he mumbles against your mouth, other hand quickly finding your ass. he pushes up the rest of your skirt, desperate to feel the plush of your ass against his palm. “fucking ride me like the slut you are.”

the slight degradation makes your head spin, bouncing quickly up and down on his cock. it fills you so wonderfully, head pushing against your sweet spot without much work. the night sky is dark, yet you’re seeing stars, right at the precipice of ecstasy.

“min.” you breathe into him, and he’s convinced this trashy bar parking lot is heaven. “min, i—“

letting go of your neck, his head falls between your legs. an expert on all things you, he finds your clit with ease, thumb brushing the bud in firm circles.

“let me feel it.” he encourages you, his cock twitching as his own edge approaches.

when you both cum, bodies melding into one, your screams are muffled by his lips. a sound that only he can hear, that only he can love. your hips slow, overstimulation raging up and down your spine. his kisses move to your jaw once you’ve quieted down, softly mumbling praises against it.

so consumed. so happy. so lost in each other than neither of you notice the footsteps that are growing in volume. headed straight towards the two of you.

this was shit sorry i wrote it at work



[kafus]

thinking a lot about how in pokemon platinum, cyrus wanted to destroy the world as we know it because he saw the emotions core to the human experience as imperfections, as the cause of all suffering. and how the central message of defeating him is that no matter how things stay the same vs how things change, no matter the suffering, all people both young and old are so wonderfully and beautifully human, including the sad and the joy, and that unwavering core of the human existence throughout all of human history deserves to be cherished and protected and loved. your life is worth living because you are human and your flaws are worth it too

[dead-potato-monster]

mismag season 2 making me bawl so much. there are fragments of me in each of these beautifully, thoughtfully, wonderfully crafted characters that i think are as real as they are fictional. i fear i will never be the same but that's also how i feel after every single aabria iyengar dmed campaign.

the beauty of being so painfully human just means a lot to me. i don't know man... god. i think i need to watch it from the beginning all over again to understand it. but stories are important. stories are so life changing i hope we never stop finding new ways to create stories with people, i hope that oral tradition never ends. i hope we continue to consistently, insistently, do small but deliberate and careful actions, that mean something no matter what they eventually amount to. i hope we find magic in the tiniest things and i hope we continue to hope. i feel insane. there's a combination of so much love and grief inside of me after finishing mismag s2 and i can't fully understand why.

[yuoimia]

YOU’RE FOREVERMORE

summary: times he appreciates you so much.

characters: albedo, ayato, xiao, wanderer, kazuha.

albedo — your endless compassion

albedo opened the door to a dimly lit bedroom, the only remaining light coming from the lopsided strings of fairy lights weakly glowing from one of the walls. crayons, costumes, and scrunched-up paper lay scattered all across the floor, leading towards the foot of the bed.

his eyes followed the trail, then softened. making sure to pick up the mess, his vision settled on two people, cozily embraced together under crimson clover covers.

then he picked up a drawing, left of the bedside table. there were plenty of people, but three people stuck out to him, their hands intertwined, smiles on their faces.

ayato — your overflowing faith in him

ayato never understood; no matter how long he spends thinking with that sharp mind of his, he’ll never know why you chose him.

he was cunning and shrewd. he held a position that frequently faced unwanted public attention without a rest. assassination attempts? too many to count.

but you knew ayato was simply too harsh on himself. in your eyes, he was a man who would do anything for his family. the family he treasured so dearly and the unrelenting love he so craved in return. perhaps you were too perfect, like someone from a dream, that he found it so hard to believe you were real.

xiao - your positivity

throughout his long, long lifetime, xiao suffered. an infinite abyss of pain and sadness indescribable. he found it hard to trust and love, those feelings rusty, yet still undeniably there.

he dreamt that all those beautifully warm emotions would somehow return. he dreamed, eyes gazing into the moonlit sky, wishing upon each star to give back what was rightfully his.

yes, the stars listened. but he would never expect that the feelings would come in the form of a human. an alluring human that never failed to brighten up his existence, always having something amusing to say—a laugh that was simply, wonderfully contagious. your positive outlook was admirable, xiao thought. he wanted to be like you. maybe not as lively, but just as happy.

wanderer - how you’re so understanding

like ayato, wanderer wonders why you stuck with him. he’s got a personality that annoyed the most patient, complimented with a sharp tongue that seemed impossible to not have something sarcastic to say. if he were you, he would steer away in the farthest direction. but it would be an outright lie to deny that he didn’t enjoy your presence next to his.

like the days when his soul feels like a void of hopelessness, you would be there, next to him, telling him in that oh-so-soft voice that he was enough, always enough for everyone and himself to appreciate.

don’t expect him to not reciprocate these actions; never has he forgotten all the things you’ve given. he’ll repay you ten times the love, because you are ten times worth it.

kazuha - your encouragement

kazuha has seen with his own eyes the cruellest and most traumatising events one could ever experience in their life. he puts on a facade of reserved tranquility and calmness, but sometimes that mask cracks just a bit, barely enough for anyone to notice. but of course, you do.

kazuha has always appreciated everything you’ve done for him; never has a moment shared with you been taken for granted. but now, the small, subtle actions and gentle words delivered at times when his heart begins to race and his palms are covered in sweat, it’s a whole new level of sympathy. he knows from the bottom of his heart that it’ll never get easier, but you make it all the more bearable. and that’s already far more than what he has ever hoped for.