#though the people need to be held so i will hold them by myself it's never me

[b4by-bee]

Your Pacifier and You

Hello, all! Whether you call them pacifiers, pacis, binkies, dummies, suckees, or anything else, a lot of regressors use them, and I know that sometimes, it's hard to find information about them and how to take care of them, disassemble them, etc etc. Most of the information I've found has been from confused people asking questions. So I thought, since I've had to learn this all by myself, I'd make a comprehensive guide to help out regressors and caregivers alike! Hopefully, someone finds this helpful!

What makes up a pacifier?

Let's start with the basics! A standard adult pacifier is made up of 4 parts; a shield, a button, a ring/handle, and a teat/nipple.

There's some unique designs out there, of course, but this is the typical one you'll find for sale.

The teat is the part that, since it goes into your mouth, will be worn out the fastest, so it's worth learning about it, in case you need to replace it. The one pictured here is a latex Nuk 5 (my mouth is a little smaller). TYPICALLY, you will receive a silicone Nuk 6. They come in many different sizes, and you can get some REALLY big ones! Between the two, silicone is more durable and lasts much longer, but latex is a bit softer, so neither is better, it's up to personal preference and what's available in the size you want! Obviously also be wary of latex allergies.

Where do I find one?

Unfortunately, these aren't usually something you'll find in a store. But fortunately, you'll find lots of places online selling them! My personal favorites are Etsy (all kinds of small business with something unique), My Inner Baby (good variety and actually has Nuk 5s for sale), and Pacifier Addict (good variety and almost exclusively pacifiers), but there's tons more websites online! Though, I always recommend to look at them when you aren't regressed, or getting someone else bigger to look for you if you can, because sometimes they have NSFW things, too. Always be careful! Most will have discreet shipping, but it's always worth a quick message or email to check if you're not sure!

I have my pacifier now! How do I take care of it?

Pacifiers are something that, to a regressor who uses them, are very special. And it's always good to take care of something you care about! The best ways (besides being careful with any paint or decorations) to take care of it are cleaning it, and storing it.

Ideally, you should clean it before and after you use it every time. Buuuuuut that's not always possible, and sometimes just tedious and boring. So, I would recommend getting some pacifier wipes, or even just baby wipes (just make sure they are fragrance free, and ideally without any lotions), giving it a quick wipe, and then using it, and just taking it apart to clean once a week or so, or if you drop it or notice it's really dirty. As long as you do that, and store it well when you aren't using it, you should be a-OK!

Alternatively, as long as there's no decorations held in place by glue, you CAN boil it. But that's not really necessary, just warm water and dish soap is enough!

How should I store it?

Storing a pacifier is important to keeping it safe when you aren't using it! There's lots of ways to do it, but I'll just share a few, as well as what's good and bad about them all!

1: Denture case. These are usually cheap and easy to find (I got mine at Walmart), and come with a little dunker that can make for easy cleaning! You can also paint them to look however you want, like I have here! (just make sure it's non-toxic paint and has some sort of clear coat to seal it if it'll get wet). The downside is that it's bulkier and less discreet, but can still be passed off as something to hold small trinkets

2. A commercial pacifier holder. You'll find this in the baby section of stores. This is helpful to clip on the outside of a bag. This one says it holds 2 pacifiers, and is juuuust big enough to hold 1 adult sized one. The downsides are that it'll bend the teat, making it wear out quicker, and isn't a great seal, so dust might still get in

3. Folding sunglasses case. I found this at Dollar Tree, and it's the perfect size! It zips completely closed, so no dust will get in. You will have to bend the teat, though, which wears it out faster.

4. Secret pocket in a stuffed animal. By far the cutest option, I've got Koibito-chan here modeling this option! This can be a fun way to hide one, and most people don't think to look in a stuffed animal, so it's the sneakiest! And you can make the pocket as big or small as you like, so no worries about bending anything! But you may need to use a mesh bag or something to prevent fibers and hairs from getting all over the teat, and it can be stressful to do surgery on a stuffed animal. But if this one appeals to you, I'll link a tutorial. I used velcro for the pocket on mine. Just be careful when sewing!

There's lots more ways to store them, but hopefully, this gives you a good idea of what to look for in a storage space. Some Etsy stores even offer to include a storage box with one!

I want to clean it/the teat deflated/I need to replace the teat, etc! How do I take it apart?

This is the one I've seen the most confusion on, but don't worry! It's got a trick to it, but once you know the trick, it's really easy to do! Generally, you'll only need to take it apart to clean or if the teat deflates (which happens sometimes!)

Step 1: Pull on where the ring connects to the button on one side, until it pulls free. BE GENTLE, there are very tiny plastic parts that can snap if you aren't

Step 2: Move it away from the hole, and now pull the OTHER side. BE GENTLE AGAIN, those little plastic tabs can snap, and they hold the whole thing together!

Step 3: Once the ring is free, pull on the button, and it should come right out.

Step 4: Pull the teat off the button. And now it's completely apart!

To reassemble, just follow the steps backwards! Putting the teat back on the button might give you a little trouble until you're used to it, but just use a long fingernail or a thin, blunt tool to push it into place, as long as it isn't sharp!

How to know when something needs to be replaced

Generally, the plastic parts of your pacifier should last you forever! Only replace those if something is broken on them. The teat, however, gets a LOT of use, especially if you use your pacifier often. If you use it every day, it's not a bad idea to plan to replace the teat every year. But regardless of timing, make sure to replace the teat if:

-You notice any discoloration

-There's a weird smell

-There's a weird taste

-There's a weird texture

-The shape doesn't seem right

For example, these are 3 of mine. The left is brand new latex, just came in today and hasn't even been used. Some are already cloudy, and some are clear, so just keep in mind what's normal for yours. The middle one is one I've had for a bit, so it's a little cloudy, but it's still fine, it just needs to be replaced soon, in the next month or two. And the right is an older latex one. It's a lot cloudier, and feels rough when I suck on it, so it needs to be replaced before I should use it again.

Anything else to keep in mind?

-If you fall asleep with yours, or drop it a lot, look into a pacifier clip! It'll keep it from falling on the ground and getting too dirty, and it looks cute!

-Be careful with any materials you use to decorate it, and then be careful with the decorations! Make sure it's non-toxic since it'll be close to your mouth, and don't use too much heat when cleaning it if there's glue!

-You can have as many or as few as you like. If you only want one (or none!), that's okay! If you want a new one every day, that's okay, too! There's no rules about it. Just make sure you take care of yourself before worrying about getting one! You don't wanna buy one and then not have enough money for yummy snacks!

-Be careful if you live with family, roommates, or anyone else who wouldn't approve or you just don't want to know. Make sure it's well hidden if you need to, or skip out on one until you live somewhere else if it wouldn't be safe. Worry about your safety first and foremost!

-You CAN use ones for actual babies, but it can hurt your teeth if you do, so I still recommend getting an adult sized one, or at least one you can swap the teat with.

That's all I have on a guide! Hope this was helpful, and I hope you have a good day today!

[humiliatingsluts2]

Toilet Training

I started making you ask permission to piss, just like I controlled when you came, what you wore, and when you edged. It felt natural and normal for you to ask and so you did. I almost always allowed you to go. But today I felt mean. We were out for drinks with a few friends, so maybe it was the alcohol. You already felt so humiliated quietly asking me if you could go pee and hoping your friends didn’t notice. When I said no, you looked genuinely shocked. I just smirked and let you wait.

I could see you squirming a little in your seat, so I laid my hand on your thigh and turned to you, “Another drink?” My tone made it clear there was only one right answer. You nodded and I went to the bar and ordered another pint of cider. I spoke quietly into your ear, “You’re going to finish this drink, and then we’re going home. On the walk, you’re either going to suck my cock or piss yourself. I’ll let you choose.” You were wearing a knee length skirt, so I knew pissing yourself would be messy and gross, but not impossible. You only nodded and took a swig from your drink.

I drank my beer too, and I could feel myself needing to pee too. Once both our glasses were empty, we both stood and made our goodbyes. As we left the bar, I could feel your nerves and excited energy. The moment we were outside you grabbed my arm and whispered, “I’m going to wet myself, fuck I can’t hold longer.” We walked quickly away from the bar and down a quiet street, and I stopped you and made you stand against the wall.

“I’ve changed my mind, you should piss yourself and suck my cock. Kneel.” You didn’t hesitate and dropped to your knees with your mouth wide open. A moment later I heard the sound of piss hitting the tarmac and I undid my jeans and let you slowly suckle at my hardening cock as you got relief. I kept glancing around for anyone coming but it was deserted. As the stream of your piss lightened, I started slowly facefucking you and enjoying the power I had over you and your body.

I could see the puddle of piss under you slowly spreading and knowing how humiliated you felt made me cum quickly. I held the back of your head and came in your mouth, barely thrusting and just letting my cock throb and spurt cum down your throat. You swallowed and looked up at me happily, “Thank you Daddy.” I smiled back, but I wasn’t finished.

“Keep it in your mouth, Daddy needs to piss too.” You looked scared for a moment but before you could react any further I started to piss slowly, and I felt you struggle for a second. You had moments to decide if you should swallow or let my piss overflow and cover your clothes. Considering how much further we had to walk home, you made the smart choice and I heard soft gulping sounds as you took every drop from my cock. I pissed slowly to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed, and let the last few drops drip into your mouth from above.

I was getting turned on again from treating you like a urinal but I quickly helped you up and we started walking the rest of the way home. You started complaining about how your piss soaked underwear felt gross so once we reached a slightly busier street I gave you one final challenge. “Take your panties off right here or you’re sleeping with them in your mouth.” Your eyes went wide and you glanced around.

There were maybe only a dozen people within view, but they would immediately notice if they happened to be looking. You were a brave slut though, and started shimmying your underwear down your thighs. The wetness stuck to your skin but once they were past your knees you quickly stepped out of them and picked them up. “Well done, you’re such a good toilet.” I told you and you glowed with pride. 

—

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[fishnapple]

Channelled message: The moment they fall in love with you

(lover/partner/future spouse)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. Carnelian

I have to admit that I look like a human being but sometimes I feel like an oyster. I wish I could have their shell, hiding myself behind a sturdy, protective barrier that no one can touch me. I would feel invincible in my weakness, in the darkness that my shell provided, taking a peek only now and then. You must be getting tired of this hide and seek game that I subjected you to, to be an unwilling gamer.

But even then, you excelled at that game, just like in everything you do. How did you beat the game? You ignored the rules, of course. You didn't let me hide, and what is there to be sought if there was no hiding.

You were a magician, transformed the most dire thing into the most hopeful thing. A magician with an X-ray machine, you peered into my inner most thoughts and feelings without opening my shell.

I felt scared and rage at first, who are you to dare to do that to me? I flipped out, of course, natural reaction of someone who had been in hiding for who knows how long. I got angry, I shouted, I cried, I held my breath, and I looked at you, begging you to stop seeing me, knowing me, accepting me. I must look like a clown to you back then.

But you just smiled. A triumphant smile, the smile that someone has after searching for something for so long and finally found it. I could feel you saying this to me: "I'm not an oyster and I'm not the kind to fall in love with an oyster, stop role-playing and sit with me side by side."

And that was how I turned into a proper human and learnt to love properly. Before, it felt like I was a story teller, someone looking from afar, at a safe distance, through the telescope, peered into life. I saw myself being with you, but I didn't really know the me who was being with you, how did they feel. And you reached out your hand, pulled the telescope aside, let me become the one that I had been watching all along and let me feel what they had felt.

I want to confess, sometimes I couldn't shake this dissociated feeling about everything. Sometimes, it feels like I was dangling between two worlds. But I have something new with me, a hope, a faith, that you would be there for me at that time, pull me back to you or accompany me in whatever that world I'm in.

Note: The moment your person falls in love with you would be when they feel seen by you, for all their light and darkness, the beautiful and the ugly parts of them. They're scared of this feeling, it makes them vulnerable. You unmask them, make them come out of their shell and be their real self, no more hiding. The way you do it is gentle and considerate, but the feeling they have will be devastating. They probably are someone who is more detached and isn't too involved with everything for fear of getting hurt. But after falling in love with you, even though the feeling of detachment about the world sometimes still lingers but they will also have the faith that there's someone who can see and understand them, who they can just be and come closer.

2. Aventurine

Sometimes, I feel like a bottle floating in this vast ocean of life. People around me, they seem to float right past me. If I could find a companion, then they would just stay for a fleeting moment and then ready to move on, leaving me behind to swim alone again. It never occurred to me that I might have looked at the wrong place.

Call me childish or sentimental, but whenever I looked at you, I felt like Ariel, the little mermaid, hiding behind the rocks to sneak a glance at the prince. You seemed so sure, so fine, so stable, so fixed, so opposite of me.

While I needed to hold on to something to keep me in one place and safe, you were just there, magnificent like the sun, without a care of the world. My soul was transfixed.

Many came to me with their offers, but their light paled in comparison to you, the true light. They were like the moon while you were the sun, and even though I'm a coward, I still dare to be ambitious and aim for the sun. It's like a moth to a flame.

Your smiles were and still are the warmest. They made the cold creature in me surrender and crawled out of the dark to actually stand in the light before you. Was it a kind of reverence? I dare not to use such a heavy word. And I dared not to impose my heavy feelings on you.

The moment I saw your light, I had already become speechless. I wanted to tell you many things, the good, the bad, the silly but I couldn't find the words. And that was fine, really. I found love in the silence of our existence together.

You taught me that life was not just about constantly swimming and floating but it can also be about being still and taking in all the things around us, and taking out all the things inside us. To lay them out on a table and let the other pick what they like, making a trade. You keep something of mine, and I keep something of yours.

Note: Before meeting you, falling in love with you, this person just floated through life with several superficial connections that, at the end of the day, made them feel even more lonely than before. There is a feeling of being lost in the dark, forever grasping for something. Then the moment they see you, your composure, your stillness and your stability will draw them in, probably a moment where you will display a sense of responsibility and confidence, being there for them, being their rock. They will feel a sense of finally being able to rest, to stand still and enjoy life.

Their temperament and yours are probably opposite of each other. Opposite attracts.

The moment they fall in love will also be the moment they put you on a pedestal, a fixed place for them to look up to. And at the same time, they will want to fuse with you, to possess some of your traits while you are taking in their influences. The feeling, the desire for belonging will be the spark that ignite their love for you.

3. Agate

You want me to tell you the moment that I fell in love with you? Can I be greedy and tell you many moments instead?

I don't have a love switch in me that can switch on and off suddenly. The concept of love at first sight perplexed me.

To me, loving you feels like the spread of the ink, the water that flows slowly, the trail that we keep walking on. I felt like a piece of paper with a corner touched by the tip of your pen absentmindedly. The ink just spread slowly, but everywhere, until the piece of paper turned completely into your colour. A natural progression, the inevitable.

We debated, we laughed, we played, we dreamed, we ran, we feared. All of those moments, together, made the ink soaked deeper and deeper still, forming indelible marks on me.

I had put a lot of thoughts into this subject, believe me, about why did I fall in love with you and I had no answer, to this day still don't. I'm afraid, actually, to find the answer. What if the moment I put a definition to it, the moment the answer materialise in my head, it becomes a checklist? If the things in that checklist become untrue, will I just fall out of love with you? I'm scared of my mind sometimes, it kills the magic. Yes, I believe in magic. Even if I know that the magic trick in the show is all about the sleight of hand, but in some corners of my heart, I still believe in the real magic of the act. A part of me refuses to see the logic, the reality. Let me dream a little and don't ask me to define the indefinable, that is our love. Let things stay inexplicable sometimes.

Note: This person refused to define any moment as the moment they fell in love with you. It's a gradual progress for them. Everything you guys did together is another drop of ink (their word) making the love deeper.

They couldn't tell the beginning of it, and they are afraid of thinking about it, actually. It makes them dread the possible ending.

To this person, love is a journey, stretched through the span of their life, there is no start point nor an end point. They are highly rational and in their head a lot. Notice that they used the word "think" and "head". But they are aware that a part of them, their heart, yearn for something magical, the inexplicable and they want their love to be that way, to escape the scrutiny of their head, to leave out the logic.

4. Citrine

I had a belief that life is supposed to be an endless journey. We constantly have to keep moving, never stop. Whatever we are doing, whoever we are meeting, one day, they will all go away, leaving us, alone, on our journey. And I had been living with that belief for a very long time. Until you.

Being with you made me question if it was really necessary to be always on the move, to be alone on my journey. Yes, it's necessary to be always on the move, but it's not necessary to be alone. Just like a ship, they stop, the passengers step out, new passengers step in, and the ship goes on. But the captain and the crews won't change, they are together with the ship. And I wanted you to be the captain of my ship.

Changes are good, but having someone going along with you through all of those changes is even better, or best. I moved a lot, I travelled a lot, constantly seeking, constantly reaching. It wore my soul down. Some days, I just arrived home then threw myself on the bed, exhausted, trying to sleep to save the energy for the next day. It went on and on, the motion. I had all these experiences, all these wonderful stories along my travels that I didn't know whom to share with. I didn't have someone to hold me when I felt shaken, to whisper that everything would be okay. Until you.

Maybe the path I need to travel wasn't just to some faraway places but also to you all along. For the first time, I wanted to hang on dearly to something, someone, to you and to our relationship. To have a real home, to see myself so connected to you that the thought of leaving would be immediately banished out of my mind, to imagine myself being a parent to our children. I contemplated all of these and I saw all of these in my mind, clear as day.

Note: Before being in a relationship with you, this person had been travelling alone, constantly on the move, never had concrete, long-lasting connections with anyone. Could be due to their job and environment that they had to move a lot. It made them exhausted and didn't have enough energy for anything else.

But by meeting you, being in a relationship with you, their belief has changed. They want a companion, someone whom they can commit to and build a stable life with. Even with all the travelling, they can still feel the sense of being anchored. That's when this person falls in love with you. Now they have someone whom they can offer their love, their stories to, whom they can imagine a future home life with, who can hold them close without holding them down.

5. Labradorite

I have always yearned to be a part of a romantic fairy tale since I was a kid. Keep this a secret for me, okay? I dream of the two characters meeting at the most fateful moment, going through many hardships, longing for each other, and finally, at the end of the tale, pulling each other into an eternal kiss. And guess what, I actually have that with you! Minus the ending part and eternal kiss, we don't end, and an eternal kiss will make us out of breath. But you get the gist of it.

The first time you had to go away, I thought I would be fine, it's not like you went away forever, it was just a trip. And then, with each day, I found myself growing more restless. Constantly asking in my head, "Hey, where are you now? What are you doing?" Talking with you through the phone wasn't enough, I wished we had a telepathic line constantly connected to each other. Oh wait, maybe we do, I even saw you in my dreams.

And then you came back. That moment when I saw you, I felt something bursting inside me, like a balloon kept getting bigger and bigger inside me, pressed and stretched my outside taut. It hit me like lightning, I was a tree rooted in one place and lightning just strike down. I burst open and revealed my thumping heart inside. Was I overreacting?

I wished the place that you and I met on that day were our home so that I could play the longing character and finally welcome their lover home. Your familiar face is the face I want to see whenever I open the door. Your laughter is the one I want to hear whenever I say something funny (in my mind) or ridiculous. And your embrace is the one I want to be in whenever I realise I have someone by my side.

Note: This person might develops feeling for you for a long time but won't realise it themselves. Until you have to go away someday, it won't be a true separation. Might just be a business trip or some long vacation.

Your absence will make them feel a longing for you that they can't really explain because the situation won't be dire and serious, just a normal, temporary separation.

When they finally get to see you, all those longing feelings will come bursting out, and that's when they will realise they love you. You guys will actually do many things that they fantasise about when they were a kid. It will feel like a truly magical thing for them.

6. Amethyst

Ah yes, we can always tell our children and our grandchildren how we felt in love at a party, making them jealous of our boldness. Now I'm getting ahead of myself.

What better way to celebrate than to have someone with you to share the joy with. You're always like that to me. Whatever joy I have, whatever joy you have, we've never failed to share it with each other. And I'm honoured.

My wish had finally come true. I have achieved many of my ambitions. I can confidently say that I had been working hard and I earned it.

And that's when I saw you. I can also confidently say that you looked stunning at that party. You looked happy and I could feel that somehow our happiness was on a similar wavelength.

I have to admit, the afterglow feeling of my success made me a lot more bold and optimistic than normal. If it was the past me, I would probably have swept the attraction under many layers of insecurities and nervousness. Trying to convince myself that it was just a delusion.

But here I was. I dared to look for love. I mean, I had achieved success in different areas, there's no way I couldn't be successful in love, right? Logical, you can't argue with that (of course you will)

Deep inside me, I probably had felt that love would be the biggest achievement I could get. And I was willing to set out again, to put my effort into achieving that dream, with you.

Note: This group is strangely short. This is a person that hides a lot of their thought to themselves and they find expressing what they feel through words is difficult. They are more actions oriented. Prefer to set out milestones and goals to achieve. They consider everything good in their life is their achievement.

You guys probably meet at a celebration party, maybe you won't be there to attend the party but just coincidentally in the same space, maybe a restaurant, an open space.

They will have achieved some big milestones that make them proud and more confident, they put in their effort and now they can reap the reward.

The feeling of joy will be heightened. And amidst that celebration, they will see you and fall in love, very likely a love at first sight situation. And they will believe that they can achieve happiness with you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could you do caracalla marriage headcanons? Thank you !! 😸

Being married to a man who was destructive, unpredictable, chaotic and dangerous as Caracalla was a long and contiguous battle you had to fight through.

It wasn’t smooth sailing in the slightest but you try to make the best of your situation, as though you were trying to make windows within the walls of your makeshift prison. It wasn’t pretty as often times you were accused of favouring his brother, or had to deal with the aftermath of having a poor innocent person sent to their deaths just for merely being too close to you.

The blood deeply stains his hands and now they stain yours also. Whether you liked it or not.

Sure the people pitied you for being with such a man but would wholeheartedly sing their anger towards you due to your association with Caracalla, it was the only way for them in order to clear a path for someone…better suited for the position.

Geta had confided in you about his illness not long after your marriage to his brother had started;

‘His outbursts have become frequent, for the illness from his loins has now spread to his brain, and he worsens day by day.’

You knew why this wasn’t public knowledge as it would be a glaring weakness for others to expose, to lessen the claim the brothers had over Rome, so you kept quiet about it yourself.

You would take his words to heart and would even encounter a few outbursts of your own where you were held at knife point by your own husband.

‘Put the knife down Caracalla.’ You’d say softly.

‘You don’t love me! You only want him!’ He’d retort, keeping the knife at your neck.

‘I married you, no one else can win my heart when you’ve got it locked in a gilded cage with your name carved into the golden metal so possessively.’ You replied even when the tip of the knife was pressed against your neck. You were terrified but you knew that in this moment you had to talk to Caracalla in a manner that wouldn’t worsen his already deteriorating state of mind.

‘The gods would have to try harder if they wish to tear us apart, for I’m not going anywhere without you, I’ve made that vow to myself and I intended to stick by it dear husband whether you like it or not.’ You add firmly this time and you could see that you had said something to make him falter as the knife had soon clattered to the floor, but the sting from where it had cut you was a reminder from how close you were from certain death.

These moments would only grow stronger the worse his condition got, but thankfully you were more then competent to handle him at his worse, even if it did leave everlasting scars that will stick with you for a lifetime, a reminder that everything was forever fleeting and that even the things that were encased in gold was in danger of corrosion due to the passage of time.

Your bond wasn’t meant to last but it was better if you made the best of it while you could before you passed the point of no return.

However all was not bloodshed, violence -even if that was a major part of your life with the emperor- and the never ending chaos. There were moments where you seemingly were the only calm Caracalla has ever known, his hands would grip you tight as his head was rested against your neck, eyes closed shut and how all he could feel was you against him.

‘Dear husband you cling so tightly as though you’d fear I’d slip away.’ You whispered against his temple.

His hold on you tightened as he pulled away to rest his forehead against your own as his eyes pierced into your own, making you feel seen but also seen through at the same time, which was a feeling that haunted you when you realised that a quiet Caracalla was more terrifying then a one who voiced his need for bloodshed. ‘I fear that you are dream that I have yet to awake from, a dream that’ll result in my descent to madness for a being such as you feel too good to be true.’ Caracalla says with a sigh. ‘The gods play the cruelest tricks on the strongest humans to test their resilience but I fear that mine will break the moment you are taken from me.’ He adds.

You caresses his cheeks and pull away to kiss his forehead, down the slope of his nose then on his lips as a giggle escapes his lips, warming you in the process for even if a moment like this was momentarily but that didn’t stop you from taking advantage of these softer moments with him; for he was your husband and his husband he will forever be.

‘I won’t be taken from you, for why would the gods gift me to you but then take me away from you in the same breath? My dear husband I wish I could remove your worries from your clouded head and give you peace, give you love as you are deserving and heal you of all wounds if given the power.’ You whispered to him as you began to pepper his face in kisses, making him smile and laugh as your affection bled into his skin and deep into his soul, feeling as though it was burning him but in the best way possible.

Burning him in the way that had him craving more from you as much as he did violence and death.

From the way you message his temples, to the way you kiss his face as though it was moulded by the gods themselves, the chaos within him subsided beneath your touch or rather yet find itself at ease with the peace you present. Chaos and peace, cancelling each other out yet completing the other so seamlessly, which is how many saw your union with Caracalla; you cancel the other out and complete the other in ways that could be considered destructive one way or another.

Yet the destruction you were both bound to have would be beautiful and painful at the same time, you’d fear it but except it when the time comes. So until your inevitable demise you’ll embrace Caracalla as if he wasn’t the one inflicting the wounds and lapping them up simultaneously as he begs for forgiveness with blood on his teeth.

[mushies-stories]

TF141- S/O that has a lot of plushies

Warning: none, little suggestive for soap and ghost.

John Price

He treats your plushies like they are real life people, talks to them just like he would one of your friends. Shows actual respect for them.

Will sit with them on your bed while you are getting ready for a night out. He chats with them too! Mostly to keep himself entertained while he watched you doll yourself up. 

“Beautiful, in’she? A fine work of art I got myself here.” He exclaimed to one of the plush bunnies with overalls on.”

“Taken quite a while though, wonder if we’ll make it out within the next hour?” he then asks after another five minutes with a soft sigh. He leaning his head back lovingly onto the pile of plushies behind him when you give him a glare through the mirror. 

When you're cuddling on the couch or in bed, watching a movie or show he doesn't mind one bit that you have a plush in your arms. He thinks it cute how you cuddle all close to him but refuse to let go of your precious plushie.

He lets you keep a few stuffies at his place so whenever you stay over you know you have one there. He likes the one you left with a little green cardigan and glasses the most. 

When you move in with him he lets you bring the whole gang on one condition. you make use of putting most of them up so they aren't too scattered. He gets you one of those corner net sling.. Thingies..? Lets you use a few small ones as decor on shelving. 

Your favorites were allowed out and there was at least one stuffie in every room. 

He was all for letting you have your stuffies and respecting them.

Until it was time for bed. 

He would let you fall asleep against him with your plush being held tightly in your arms. He loved watching you fall into blissful peace and slumber so waiting wasn’t much of a task. When he feels your body completely relax against him and your arms loosen around the plush, he slowly pulls it from your arms. He lets it fall beside you on the other side of the bed and smiles while your arms reach out for him.

He will wrap you up in his arms and finally let himself succumb to slumber with your head on his chest and his arms holding you tight.

Gaz

much like price, he respects your stuffies. Doesn't care too much to interact with them but will say ‘excuse me’ when moving one out of his way.

I feel like he’s just the most uncaring but also still thinks it's adorable.

He likes to use them as head rests and pillows. Best for taking a nap while he waits for you. 

Doesn’t mind if you sleep with one but if he feels like he needs a little more attention he will pull it gently from your arms without waking you and pull you closer. Sometimes he just wants all of your attention, even if it's asleep, to be on him. Does not care if the stuffie is banished to the floor however and will fling it once he has it free from your clutches.

If you are watching TV or something on the couch and he feels like he needs more of your attention and touch he would gently tug on your plushie and give you those big puppy eyes of his.

“Love, how’bout givin me some of that attention, yeah?”

You set your plushie aside and curl up closer to him and give his jaw or cheek a few kisses before relaxing again. 

Most of the time though he thinks it's cute and likes to watch your face light up when you see a plushie at a store, even if he won't let you buy it because you have enough at the moment.

“Sorry lovie, got too many right now.” he chuckles with a shake of his head when you stick your bottom lip out at you.

When you start living together he is a lot like price. Doesn't want them all over so as long as the majority have a place to be while not being used he will be fine with you bringing them all over.

Won't let you have them all over the house as much though. One or two out because he doesn't want to step on any or have to move them around too much.

Soap

Is kind of a menace to your plushies. He doesn't mind them one bit, thinks you're adorable with your pile of plushies. However, he has little to no real respect for them. Instead he acts more like a child with them then you ever have. 

WILL throw them, lay all over and crush them, banish them to the floor and he has broken a button or two off one the plushies coats.

“Sorry Bonnie, didn't mean to.” he would pout and you’d forgive him.

Uses a goofy voice to speak for the plushies when you get mad at him for being so rough. 

Does get jealous when you cuddle your plushies over him sometimes. When's he’s just gotten home and all of your attention isn't on him? Nope, he will throw that plush to the other side of the couch and pull you into his lap.

Will rile you up before bed just so you let you plush go while he sucks your neck and grinds his knee between your legs just to lay down and drag your body against his before you can even grab your plush back.

“G’night Bonnie.” he mumbles happily against your head as he nuzzles you closer into him like he was a big snake coiling around you.

You decide it's best to put up your plushies when moving in with him, knowing how destructive he could be, even though he doesn't really mean to be.

You still keep a few out for yourself, mostly ones that don't have anything that could be ripped off or broken.

When he's gone you happily take them all down and out and cuddle them until you get word he's on the way home. 

You have been caught more than a few times when he unexpectedly comes home late only to find your shared bed covered in plush and you sunk under them all. He proceeded to fling them out of his way to get to you.

Ghost

Is the meanest. Aha.

Try to have some kind of respect for your plush friends but not that much. Will crush them right under him when he lays on your bed, not caring for your protests.

“They can't breathe love, just fluff and stitches.” he comments.

Find it adorable when you're pouting at him until he gets up and lets you fix the mess he made.

Relaxing turns into teasing quickly when you're trying to cuddle a stuffie and him at the same time. He gets a little jealous that you pay more attention to the ball of stuffing over him.

You’ll soon find your neck being peppered with kisses, his big hands wandering and grouping your body until he’s able to pull your plush from your arms. Wants you to hold onto him while he's there, he misses your touch so much while he’s deployed. 

“My time, they have you while I'm gone, don't they?” he would grumble into your ear.

He likes to crawl into bed after you just so he can rip your stuffie away with a kiss to your pouting lips. Lays his head on your chest and hugs your body so you have to use him to cuddle. 

Really… this all started by you calling him your big teddy bear once while cuddling. Now all the others are just threats at this point.

He solved the problem with how many you had by getting a new place that had a spare room. With a daybed and decor you picked out, it became your plushies new home.

Doesn’t care when a few escape but when he notices too many around the house will just throw them back in the room as he passes.

Basically he is jealous of them and needs all of your attention when he's home.

[myvoiddreams]

Fragments of Starlight (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: With the bond she had held tightly to her chest known now by Cassian, she fights for her own life alongside Azriel. 

Word Count: 3,069

Warnings: ANGST, violence, dark themes, self-mutilation?, some fluff

A/N: I’m backkkkkkk anddd I am so grateful for everything you have all said about this little series of mine. It’s something I wanted to start up just for fun and so many of you have left me such kind words about it. I’m planning on this being the last part. I might follow up with a little epilogue of sorts if there is any interest in that! I do have some plans for different one shots I’ll be getting into soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

---

Now

“He’s what?” Cassian went wide eyed. He was covered in dirt and blood. His hair, which was once tucked neatly into a bun, had pieces falling that framed his distressed face.

“You heard me Cass,” I quickly sucked in shakily, not believing I had finally admitted it. Admitted it to fucking Cassian of all people. 

Cassian’s face softened and his eyebrows knit. He slowly started to lean down to check his brother’s injuries when the ground started to shake around us, and a booming noise followed suite. The battlefield was only getting messier. A sense of urgency pricked his face.

“Fuck,” he stood, “It’s Nesta.” He looked between Azriel’s form and my own as I still held the injury, I had delt myself. There was conflict covering his face. He was not able to hide his emotions.

“Go Cass,” I said even though my heart spiked at my own words. A fear, the same fear of being abandoned flooded my chest, overwhelming the aching mating bond that usually held itself there. “She needs help more than we do, now that we’re healing. Go.” I spoke these words even though I was unsure if I was healing fast enough.

“Be safe, keep each other alive. I’ll be back.” Cassian said simply, his face hardening as he stood. He leaped from the ground, his great wings taking him into the sky. Red flashed across the sky as he followed the booming. The ground shook again as he took off.

A groan sounded behind me stopping my heart dead in its tracks.

I turned as quickly as my body could manage without throwing myself back down. My hand found the side of Azriel’s face as he began to stir. I kneeled in front of him and I stroked my thumb down his cheek as the bond in my chest thrummed with anticipation and anxiety.

“Az,” I shakily said his name, “Azriel, please open your eyes.”

He did, slowly, but he opened them. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. A sad smile also crept up my face, as I found his hazel eyes with my own.

“W-what happened?” he swallowed as he tried to sit up further against the tree. Hearing his voice was like a light in this fucked up bloody dark. It was cut short with a wince.

“Stay still, please. You’re a bit worse for wear.” I held back the tears that somehow found their way springing to my eyes. I couldn’t find it in myself to let go of his face as I continued to speak to him, leaving more blood from my ravaged hands upon him. “You were struck down, I saw you falling. I came to help.” I finally tore my hands from his dirt covered face and looked to his abdomen.

It was still bleeding. Why was it still bleeding? The wound had knitted the muscles slowly back together, but his flesh, the skin, was still open, still oozing.

Panic crept back into my being.

“Y/N,” Azriel began as he moved to hold my arm, but I cut him off.

“Your wings are still intact, Az, they are just fine. Your limbs too. It’s only this wound on your abdomen that remains open, and it will shut. You will be just fine.” I was spitting out my words at a rapid pace as I moved my hands from his face to the wound on his abdomen. I was shaking, becoming dizzy once again at the prospect. At the reality that we might not all make it out of this. At the fact his blood was bubbling around my hands. 

“You’re shaking,” he rasped, “and paler than a ghost.” He cried between whines. He moved his head back to the tree, once again leaning on it for support.

“Cassian was just here,” I breathed out, “he was just here, and he’s okay too.” Panic was biting at my tone as I tried to calm myself down.

Azriel had used so much of his strength already in battle. His body couldn’t keep up.

More blood. My mind spat at me.

Azriel had started to teeter again with his consciousness. I could feel it deep within that bond stringing us together. It was loosening, his end was losing.

“Y/N,” his voice came out as a croak, his eyes were closed now. “Promise me something.”

“No, Azriel,” I nearly barked, “Shut up and open your fucking eyes again.” Panic laced my every word, my every breath as I ordered him around.

“Promise me, you’ll keep going. Don’t let this be the end for you. You’re stronger than you know, and this world needs you,” His voice was trailing off now. His lovely, deep voice has become nothing more than a whisper.

“Well, I fucking need you!” I grabbed onto his leathers, not caring about the state of my ruined hands, the tears now pouring down my face. My head made its way to his chest, as his hand rubbed my back. It ever so slowly stopped rubbing and fell.

I gripped onto him tighter. I sobbed into his chest. He was no longer conscious, but I could still hear, feel, his heart beating. Slowing down its rhythm, but still beating.

This would not be the fucking end of him. This would not.

Stifling my tears, I grabbed a dagger sheathed at his thigh and plunged the blade into my own arm. Rage and adrenaline fueled me once again. I was not going to let Azriel leave this world while he was fighting for his family, his court. I was not going to let my mate leave this world before me.

I do not care about the fear, the abandonment, how alone, how pitiful I felt. I cared more for this beautiful male to stay here in this world that needed him, whether he or it needed me or not. 

As the blood surged from my wound, I tilted his head back and opened his mouth. He unconsciously drank.

There had to be a chance. I told myself.

The world began to tip on its axis, and I could no longer hold my arm to his mouth. My body had had enough. From the beatings, lashings, slices, burnings, and fighting. I was drained, in every sense of the world.

My body fell next to Azriel’s. With my last fragment of strength, I reached for Azriel’s hand and interlaced his fingers with my own.

My own consciousness dwindled away, but I could still hear his heart beating.

Good.

---

Before

I crashed through the woods. My bow was attached to my hand as I reached for an arrow that was in the quiver on my back. The air was beginning to grow colder, thicker. A piercing cry once again shattered the air around me. I had no choice but to drop my weapon and cover my ears.

That Gods forsaken noise. They were getting too close for comfort.

The Harpy I had the unfortunate luck of running into trailed me. I don’t know why the creature who typically hunted for valuables followed me of all people. All I had in my possession was my bow, quiver with some arrows, a couple of food rations, and the clothes on my back.

Maybe for sport this time. Awesome.

As soon as I could force my body to endure the cry once more, I scattered for my belongings and ran with all my might. I couldn’t get a sight on this infernal creature, and I’m sure it might take more than a couple of arrows to bring it down.

I just had to make it to the border. To the Night Court. The Court of Nightmares.

Also, awesome. Trading running for my life from a Harpy to a Court that would sense my presence in their walls in no time and also come tracking me down.

The Harpy was the bigger threat right now.

I felt a tug at my lose hair, at my lose clothes as I stumbled over root and rock. The creature was literally nipping at my heals.

The burning feathers of the winged beast, and sharp talons were in arm’s length now. I could feel it.

I made the mistake of looking back, but as I did, I raised my bow above my head. The beast has gnarling teeth that gnashed my way.

I brought my bow down, too close now to make any kind of shot with an arrow. Before my strike could hit the creature, a blast of blue energy passed me and knocked the creature away. It cried as it was demolished, almost incinerating in the rich light.

I scrambled back from it, my ass hitting the ground. What the fuck?

My breath hitched as my gaze locked onto the source of the power rippling through the air.   A towering, winged male stood several feet away, shrouded in an aura of quiet dominance that demanded attention. His dark, leathery wings, flared wide and menacing, cast jagged shadows across the ground, their sheer size and sharp edges enough to make even the bravest falter. 

A scent of mist and ceder floated towards me as he spoke, “Are you okay?”

Am I okay?

“Y-yes.” I choked out.

As he made his way closer to me, I scrambled to my feet. I dusted off my pants as properly as I could.

“What’s your name, girl?” His voice was so low and resonant.

“Y/N,” I again, could barely breath out.

He brought a slight smile to his face, “What brings you to the Night Court, Y/N?”

---

Azriel had brought me to a small village in snow covered mountains where he told me there would be a healer. This was not the behavior I was expecting from any in the Court of Nightmares, let alone who I learned afterwards was the Shadowsinger for the High Lord himself.

I spent many months in that village, surrounded by other travelers, but mostly lesser fae called Illyrians.

I poured drinks in a taven, hunted, and helped in the healing structures. Anything that would help keep my head down as I decided where to head too next.

I had run from Dawn. From a close past that did not need me to return to it. That I wanted anything but to return to.

Azriel showed up to the village months later with another Illyrian, Cassian. There was some kind of accident training, and Cassian had been sent away from their war camp to, “heal on his own.” I had a feeling this Cassian had insighted something he shouldn’t have. He had had a broken nose, ribs, and all the bruises to show for it.

There were more visits like this. I slowly grew closer to the pair, learning of Cassian being a bastard, but a budding warrior. I learned that Azriel was a Shadowsinger who worked closely with the High Lord of Night himself. It wasn’t until I was given the opportunity to work in the healing tent at Windhaven that I met Rhysand. The heir to the Court of Night himself.

---

Now

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the sound of his breathing—steady, deliberate, and too close. My eyes fluttered open to find him sitting in a chair pulled close to the bed, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his steepled fingers. Shadows curled lazily around him, flickering like restless spirits.

There was no sign of his injury. It must have been healed or bandaged under his fresh set of leathers. Light bruises littered one side of his face. 

My hands and both arms were covered in wrappings. My head pounded as the light fluttered in my eyes. 

"You're awake," Azriel said, his voice low and gravelly, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. Relief? Anger? Both?

I tried to sit up, but his gaze pinned me down. The intensity in those hazel eyes stole the breath from my lungs. His wings, usually so tightly controlled, flared slightly behind him, a testament to his unrest.

“You fed me your blood.” The accusation was quiet but searing. It jarred me awake.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “You were dying. There wasn’t time—”

“You should have let me die.” His words were harsh, but the way his hands trembled betrayed him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

My heart hammered in my chest. He knew. Of course, he knew. He’d felt the bond. The bond that I’d been trying to ignore, to run from. I had forced this bond onto him now. I had forced him into this while he was chasing someone else.

“I saved you,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“You bound us,” he said, rising to his feet. He began pacing, his shadows swirling more violently now, but his voice cracked on the next words. “You’re my mate.”

I flinched at the word, and he froze mid-step, his wings half-furled.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, quieter now, his tone heavy with something that sounded like betrayal.

“Because I didn’t want to be your burden,” I admitted, clutching the blanket as if it could shield me from the weight of his gaze. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I—I thought I could run from it.”

His expression softened, and he sank back into the chair, dragging a hand down his face. “A burden?” he repeated, incredulous. “You think you’re a burden to me?”

I looked away, but he wasn’t having it. He leaned forward, cupping my chin gently but firmly, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“You showed me I was a burden when you abandoned me in that camp and took your dear Elain instead. You showed me long before that, when I become an afterthought to you while I was drowning.” At my words, I felt regret ride down the bond.

“You are not a burden,” he said, his voice breaking with conviction. “You are my mate, my equal. You are—” He exhaled sharply, as if the next words cost him something. “You are the reason I’m still breathing. How could you ever think I’d see you as anything less than... everything?”

Tears blurred my vision. “I was scared,” I admitted. “Scared of what it would mean. Of what you’d think of me. We’ve been nothing but friends,” the word sour on my tongue, “for centuries.” 

His thumb brushed a tear from my cheek. “What I think of you?” he murmured, a faint, disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. “I think you’re the bravest, most maddening person I’ve ever met. And I think... I think I was a fool not to see it sooner.”

I let out a shaky laugh, but his expression turned serious again as his hand moved to cover mine.

“Don’t ever do something like that again,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t ever risk yourself for me like that. I can’t—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I can’t lose you.”

The bond shimmered between us, a fragile thread tightening into something unbreakable. I felt it now, as if for the first time.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His wings drooped slightly, the tension bleeding out of him as he exhaled. And for the first time, I saw it—the unguarded relief in his eyes. The love.

Azriel pressed his forehead to mine, his voice a broken murmur. “Thank the Cauldron.”

I shut my eyes at the contact. Breathing in his scent. Relief flooded me as I pushed my feelings of love, devotion, towards him through the bond that now did not end in a wall. 

Of course, I had not forgotten the time I had spent in that camp. Had not forgotten all the wrong he had done to me as of late. I wanted to be so angry with him. I wanted to yell and scream and hit him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t when he was tugging at this bond in my chest.

His hand met my chin again, tipping it towards him. My eyes opened and I met his. His beautiful, hazel orbs scanned me. 

“Azriel,” I sniffled, moving to wipe away any remaining tears, “I’d really like for you to kiss me now.” I all but whispered. 

He shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against my jawline, featherlight yet deliberate. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, the bond between us humming with newfound awareness. My heart pounded against my ribs as his thumb traced a gentle path along my cheek, as if memorizing every detail of my face.

“I’ve waited lifetimes for this,” he whispered, his voice rough and raw, barely more than a breath.

Before I could speak, before I could think, his lips captured mine. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like he was afraid I might disappear. But the moment I leaned into him, he deepened it, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, pulling me closer.

His shadows curled around us, cocooning us in a world where only we existed. The kiss was fire and starlight, a melding of every unspoken word, every hidden desire. It was a claim, not of possession, but of belonging—of two souls finally finding their home.

I threaded my fingers into his hair, anchoring myself to him as he poured everything he couldn’t say into the kiss—relief, joy, need, and something infinitely more profound. When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine again, both of us breathing heavily.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice trembling with certainty.

“And you’re mine,” I whispered back, my lips brushing his in a promise.

The bond that had fluttered and beat in my chest exploded. It had gripped onto my heart and forced it to beat. It had shown me what it was like to float on solid ground. To sink into pure bliss and oblivion.

There was time later, to be upset. To work through all the crap. There would be time for me to do all the yelling and screaming I wanted to. To work through if I was going to leave like I had threatened or if I was so weak from one kiss that I didn’t have the stomach to follow up on my threats.

But right now, I have Azriel. And he was all I needed. 

-----

Taglist: (so sorry if I missed anyone!!)

@saltedcoffeescotch @thirstyroses-world @kingshitonly @spidersfrommars15 @mariahoedt @missromantasy @breadsticks2004 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @helo1281917 @i-am-infinite @emptyporsche @quiet-loser @watermelomsuger @anxious-cactus @rcarbo1 @latinxbipride @chelsiemp @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @marina468 @kennedy-brooke @myromanempiree @craftytrashprincess @fairydustblossom @st4r-girl-official @darkbloodsly @kitsunetori @historygeekqueen @ivy-34 @optimisticbabydreamer @fightmedraco @maruiin @thefandomplace @bxtchopolis @annamariereads16 @whosmys @toobsessedsstuff @ineffablywriting @uncontainedsmiles @metaphysicaldoom @darksideofthemoooon @myrtle-thai @avocadorablereader @byyalady @vhjlucky13 @anxious-cactus @evergreenlark @alainabooks143 @be-your-coffee-pot @booksbypisces @chaconnelatte @cazrielfairygf @sometimeseverythingsucks @angstylittleb1tch @littlegirl-bd @watermelomsuger @zanaorian @arssunshine @buttermilktea11

[everpresence]

I was wrong.

over the last few weeks, i started heavily questioning my beliefs.

i noticed that some of my desires came in faster than other desires. some of them (as you may see in my recent posts) took years to reflect, but some of them got reflected so fast at the speed of light.

i’ve been told by various people that there’s usually a time delay for desires to materialize in the 3D, and for some reason, it resonated with me. that’s why i mention it in my answers because i was merely basing it off of my own experiences with the law.

but something clicked for me recently. i watched a video by missy renee, about why people haven’t seen their manifestations for years. i’m just going to put it out there that you don’t need to pay for coaching. there are a lot of manifesting coaches that don’t know what they’re talking about, and when you read source, it’s a lot more telling. missy renee is not one of those coaches. she has read source and has even applied those teachings into her life. if i have to recommend a coach for you to watch, though, it would be her.

anyways, there was a line that she said that i immediately wrote down because it caused so much confusion in me. basically, she said that the reason why we have yet to see things come to pass is because we are still identifying with our old beliefs — our old story — and due to this, we become double-minded. this double-mindedness is then perceived as the “time delay.”

in that moment, i slowly leaned back in my chair. it was an “a-ha” moment for me, but it was also a little harrowing.

how long have i held myself back from just accepting that i am the person that i wanted to be? how long have i been limiting myself, telling myself the old story over and over again like a broken record? more importantly, i’ve been telling other people that there is such thing as a “time delay” because i decided that i should experience the delay.

so when i wrote a list and just allowed my higher self to figure it out, some of them came in so fucking fast at the speed of light. it stunned me. that’s when i realized that i was holding a false belief.

i never thought that i’d be writing an apology post, but here i am. i’m holding myself accountable because i was the one that wrote that there is such thing as a “time delay,” but in reality, there isn’t. sure, you don’t have to be pitch perfect with your beliefs, but when this desire has no conflict with your beliefs — when you have no resistance, when you aren’t arguing with yourself about whether you have it or not — then there’s no delay.

i remember some people said that it should not take more than thirty days, and i used to think that it’s bullshit, but now i can clearly see that there is a reason why they believe this. it’s not even about the length of time, but about how frequent you return to the state. it’s all about you accepting that the person you want to be is who you are now.

besides that, i want this post to be a reminder that everyone’s beliefs are constantly changing. there is always going to be expansion, growth, an inevitable withering of the old beliefs and the blossoming of new beliefs the more we learn about how this all works. this is why i want people to go back to reading source, to not always take everyone’s posts as “truth” or “the gospel” because we are all still learning in the end. learning never ends.

edit: i don't mean to say all this for you to start focusing on the physical reality as your primary reality. i still wholeheartedly believe that this is merely a reflection of your beliefs, and ultimately, it is all about who you are choosing to be right now despite what it looks like.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Guns N' Thugs (mafia bucky x reader)

gif sent in by @buckys-wintersoldier a little while ago and the fic itself was an idea coming from this ask between myself and @nana1000night back in 2022.

Summary: Bucky protects a woman from being harassed after he recognises the perpetrators as his enemy's goons.

WC: 1.2K

Warnings: harassment, catcalling, gunfire

Read on Ao3!

--

The streets of Brooklyn had an edge tonight. The autumn air was crisp, the bite of the wind sharp enough to sting your cheeks as you quickened your pace down the dimly lit sidewalk. The sound of distant laughter and blaring car horns echoed around you, but it was the footsteps behind you that held your attention.

They had been following you for a few blocks now, growing bolder with each step. You could hear the low murmurs, the crude comments thrown in your direction, and despite your best efforts to ignore them, your heart raced with every word.

"Hey, sweetheart, where you off to in such a hurry?" one of the men called out, his voice dripping with mockery.

You kept walking, tightening your grip on your bag, praying that they would lose interest. But they didn’t.

The group of them — four, maybe five — started closing in, surrounding you with their leering grins and foul remarks. You could feel their eyes on you, like vultures circling prey. Your stomach twisted in fear as one of them stepped directly into your path, forcing you to stop.

“C’mon, don’t be shy, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading wider. He reached out as if to touch you, but before his hand could make contact, a voice rang out.

“I’m sorry I’m late, sweetheart. I was looking everywhere for you; got caught up in the shops.”

The voice was deep, smooth, with a commanding presence that seemed to stop the world around you. You blinked, your body stiff with tension as you turned towards the source.

Bucky Barnes.

You’d heard whispers about him — about the mobster who controlled most of the city’s underworld with an iron grip. He was feared by everyone, respected by those who knew better, and completely untouchable. His name alone sent shivers down most people’s spines, but the way he approached now, so casually, so effortlessly, it was like the situation was already under his control before he even spoke.

Bucky’s steely blue eyes met yours, and there was a flicker of something softer behind them as he played along with the act. He reached for your hand, gently tugging you toward him as though you’d been waiting for him all along.

The men around you hesitated, confusion flickering across their faces as they sized him up. They might not have known who he was yet, but something about him — the way he carried himself, the dangerous glint in his eyes — put them on edge.

“Who the hell are you?” one of the men sneered, stepping forward as if challenging Bucky.

Bucky didn’t even blink, his arm sliding around your shoulders protectively. He didn’t need to answer. The way he looked at the man, with an amused smirk tugging at his lips, said everything.

From across the street, Bucky’s most trusted men — Sam and Steve — lingered in the shadows, watching the scene unfold. Sam, always quick to react, saw the way the situation was escalating. Without hesitation, he stalked over, his hand slipping inside his coat to grip the gun hidden within.

Sam approached one of the men from behind, pressing the cold steel of the gun to his back, careful to keep it hidden beneath his sleeve so as not to alarm you. His face was hard, his eyes locked on Bucky, waiting for the signal.

He raised an eyebrow, the unspoken question clear. Do we take them out?

Bucky glanced down at you, still holding you close to his side. His fingers brushed lightly over your arm, a silent reassurance that you were safe with him. Then, with a barely perceptible nod, he gave Sam the permission he needed.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said softly to you, guiding you a few meters away from the group, towards the safety of your car parked just down the street.

You followed him, your mind still racing, trying to process what had just happened. Who was this man? Why was he helping you? Your heart was still pounding, but something about his calm demeanor, the way he seemed completely unfazed by the danger, made you trust him, even if you didn’t fully understand why.

Bucky’s voice was low and soothing as he opened the car door for you, his hand lingering on your back for just a moment before he pulled away.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured, his eyes scanning the street behind him. He wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.

As you slid into the driver's seat, the sound of a gunshot cracked through the night air. You gasped, your hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as your pulse skyrocketed.

Bucky was already moving, his expression hardening as he turned back toward the scene. He didn’t need to look to know what had happened — Sam had done exactly what was necessary.

When Bucky returned to where Sam stood, the man who had dared to challenge him was sprawled out on the ground, blood pooling around him as he gasped for breath. The others — the rest of the gang — were already gone, running in fear for their lives, disappearing into the shadows.

Sam stood over the dying man, his gun still drawn, though it was tucked discreetly into his coat sleeve. He didn’t need to say anything; the message had been sent loud and clear.

“I have her safe,” Bucky said, his voice cold now, all traces of the charm he’d shown you earlier gone. He nodded toward Steve, who had come up to stand beside Sam. “You and Steve find them. They looked like new recruits from Zemo’s gang of misfits.”

Steve’s jaw tightened at the mention of Zemo. It wasn’t the first time they’d crossed paths with his gang, and it wouldn’t be the last. With a sharp nod, Steve and Sam set off in pursuit of the remaining thugs, their figures disappearing into the night like shadows.

Bucky remained where he was for a moment, his eyes locked on the body at his feet. The man coughed, choking on his own blood as he tried to speak, but Bucky didn’t care to listen. He was already done with him.

Turning on his heel, Bucky headed back to your car. You were still inside, wide-eyed and shaken, but otherwise unharmed. He opened the door once again, leaning down slightly to meet your gaze.

“Go home,” he said softly, though the steel in his voice was unmistakable. “You won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

You swallowed hard, your mind still reeling, but you nodded. Something about the way he spoke — the authority in his tone, the way he seemed so sure of himself — made you believe him.

Bucky stepped back, watching as you started the engine and pulled away, the taillights disappearing into the distance. He stood there for a while, his hands slipping into his coat pockets as he gazed down the empty street.

It was just another night in Brooklyn. Just another problem handled.

But something about the way you had looked at him, the way you had clung to his side without knowing who he was, had stirred something in him. Something unfamiliar.

With a low sigh, Bucky turned and headed into the darkness, his mind already back on the job at hand.

Tomorrow, the streets would belong to him once again.

[unboundprompts]

hurt/comfort but they're both subborn? Like teasing stubborn and more stricter stubborn,,, /nf!! I'd prefer if the teasing one was the one having a breakdown but just have fun w it man!!! Go wild!!!

Hurt/Comfort (Teasing x Stubborn)

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

He was slumped against the wall, arms crossed as he forced a casual smirk, even though his eyes were red-rimmed and tired. "Look at you, all serious. What, worried about me?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She huffed, crossing her own arms and stepping closer. "You’re not fooling me," she said, her voice steady but soft. "You look like you’re about to collapse."

"I’m fine," he insisted, but his voice cracked, betraying him. She just shook her head, closing the distance, and slid her arms around him without asking. For a moment, he went stiff, still holding onto his forced smile. But eventually, with a shuddered breath, he let his weight fall into her, the smirk fading.

---

"I don’t need a lecture," she muttered, forcing a chuckle that sounded hollow even to her own ears. "I’m fine."

"Fine? Sure, because people who are ‘fine’ definitely laugh to cover up that they’re hurting," they countered, their tone as steady as hers was evasive.

She raised her chin, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "Maybe I’m just good at hiding it, then."

"Not from me." They reached out, tugging her close, and even as she tried to keep up the pretense, her resolve cracked. Slowly, she let her head fall to their shoulder, clinging to them as their arms wrapped around her in silence.

---

He let out a weak laugh, rubbing at his eyes. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Clearly," she replied dryly, though there was warmth in her gaze. "You’re really doing a great job."

His mouth quirked up, a forced attempt at humor. "Oh, come on, am I that bad off?"

"You are," she said, her tone softening. She reached for his hand, and this time, he didn’t pull away. "And if you’re so set on acting like you don’t need help, fine—just let me sit here with you, okay?" He finally gave in, squeezing her hand tightly, his teasing fading as he leaned into her support.

---

"Really, you’re fussing for nothing," they said, their voice tense but trying to sound lighthearted. "I’m just having an off day."

"An off day? You look like you haven’t slept in a week," he replied, his voice gentle but firm.

They chuckled, waving him off. "Guess you’re just seeing things."

"Right. And I suppose the fact that you’re about to fall over is all in my head, too?" He stepped closer, holding out his arms, and after a long moment, they sighed, letting him pull them into an embrace. They tried to laugh it off, but their voice wavered, and he just held them tighter, refusing to let them brush it away this time.

[simplysinning]

Unexpectedly Tender

A night of pleasure where Astarion is the only focus for once.

Astarion X Reader (18+ themes) cw: Astarion with afab anatomy, Cazador mentions, sexual content MDNI, oral (astar!receiving), use of 'cunt', fingering, hungry yearning even though you’re already together, and slight religious imagery? (I want to worship him, respectfully.) No other description other than you being taller and a drow.

7.2k words

Drows aren't particularly known for being the nicest of races, especially those sworn to the spider goddess with an odd sense of humor, yet the vampire spawn can use himself to prove that people can change, if not for the better. Of course, that's to insinuate this drow in particular was never anything but agreeable since the moment they met each other, even after the rogue pointed a knife at you for some answers fresh from the naultaloid.

That's not to say astarion liked you from the start, no there was an underlying bitterness on the spawn's part from your weirdly infuriating need to play savior wherever you went. The needy didn't stay the needy for long, and something so simple as retrieving a stolen pouch turned into a full-on family rescue mission. The whole heroic, spring-into-action type was someone that tended to get on Astarion's nerves, though he used to see himself the type to once marry someone like that.

Well, when he was about…13.

Regardless, you can only imagine how stupid Astarion felt when he realized that he liked your inherently nice nature, a major contradictory personality to his, and eventually came to terms that those feelings were a given.

Naturally, there were some chaotic times courtesy of Astarion's occasional goading to make a decision for the group's entertainment betterment, but you always took the change of plans in stride. Never angry, perhaps disappointed (expectedly), but forever the friendly hunk of underdark you were.

So, Astarion had to catch his neck from whipping off its swivel the moment your voice dipped off into a low growl at the woman in front of them, your eyes narrowed in irritation.

It would have been easy for Astarion, with the woman's (slightly creepy) persistence even after his third refusal, to simply allow you to give the alright to bite her should you ask. After all, what was one little bite in comparison to a rare, powerful potion? It would have been fine.

…Right?

'Just a small moment of disgust to get myself through,' but, surprisingly, you just stopped the spawn's half step forward and snapped, "he said no."

The tick in your jaw, the way your voice held no room for the usual patience and kindness, and lastly, the way your eyes darted to Astarion's in a flash of concern. You spoke with the authority of someone seasoned, as if your little group of lost souls have always been together, every one of your words carrying a stern weight and finality.

"Where are you?" You murmur, your words gentle and cutting through his mind like a knife through butter. There’s a small, nearly chaste kiss to his bare shoulder, and it nearly startles him.

The hands which were once gripping the spawn's supple backside above the fabric of his pants are now resting against the small of his back, gentle and not pressing, just below his ritual scars.

Astarion, coming back to his mind with you in your shared inn room, relishes in how the arms encircling him hold kindly, unburdened by the tension of restraint should he not want to continue, and he eases a quiet sigh.

'You'll never be like the others…'

"I'm right here, my love," he responds, his voice light and airy, bare from the false seduction dripping from the tips of his fangs.

You plant a kiss to the other's neck, careful to avoid the jagged skin that had healed two centuries ago, and Astarion closes his eyes when he notices that too.

"Are you sure? Because we can stop. I'm fine with just talking, or something."

The spawn slides his hand up your back and it comes to a stop on the back of your head, his slender fingers toying with the shorter hairs. You pull your head back in response to look at the vampire, and Astarion uses the leverage to pull you down toward him. If the awkward angle for your taller frame is uncomfortable, you don't say and only allow Astarion to do as he pleases.

"Or," Astarion exhales, his red eyes darting to your lips, "something," and then he's pulling them to his. Your lips slot together, moving a little out of sync only because of the temporarily different level of desire.

Astarion has always been hungry and hasty when kissing, all tongue and teeth and starving of the safety and affection he so desperately craved for the last two hundred years, like it would be snatched away from him. And, with Cazador around the corner, it could all very well be. The mere idea of it, never being able to see you again, seeing your smile as you walk the familiar path to his tent in the morning to ask him how slept, is detrimental to Astarion's psyche that had only just begun to snap its scattered pieces back into place.

You like to take your time, give slow and tender pecks that gradually press firmer and open wider when you pick up on the vampire's need for more, but there's always a subtle hesitation; a looming question you're unable to truly verbalize.

'Is this really what you want?'

Astarion is aware of this, of your innate sense of overprotection for him, of his trauma from being an alluring plaything for Cazador. He would never forget the look on your face the moment he told you a fraction of the hell he had to endure, all flared nostrils and pupils constricted in anger, and he would never forget the way he felt a subtle throb in between his legs. That called a different problem into question, however.

There was a conversation you had before about Astarion's reluctance for sexual intimacy, and you made sure he knew that you understood and was indeed obeying Astarion's request of going as slow as he needed you to.

The spawn remembers how nervous he was when he told you that he didn't think he was ready to be intimate yet, bated breath between his teeth though the vampire had no need to breathe. Being used for his body for so many centuries essentially defiled Astarion's views on sex, and he severely hoped you would understand his hesitance.

He couldn't deny that everything stirred at certain things you did, the ways in which you looked at him, how quick you moved to protect him whether physically or other, but he (with your steady guidance) grew self-aware. Realizing that, after discovering his decimated self-respect and self-worth, he wasn't ready, and he had the option to say...no.

And he wanted you to know that he came to that conclusion, deciding it would only be fair since you bestowed him the grace for self-discovery.

"Even though I know things between us are different," Astarion provided a forced giggle, his lips wobbling in the corners, the facade beginning to melt away into something unfamiliarly vulnerable, "being with someone still feels…tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don't know how else to be with someone. No matter how I'd like to." You hadn't said anything for a minute or so, and Astarion still mildly adherent to his ways of self-deprecation had assumed you began to doubt whether or not to continue pursuing...whatever you were moving towards, especially being so soon after your previous conversation of Astarion's 'affection' being self-serving and under a completely false pretense at first, but before he could voice, 'It's fine if you think twice about us', you spoke.

"Astarion," your cadence was deliberate and measured, choosing your words carefully, "I'm not going after you for sex, and if I gave you that impression, I'm sorry. I'm ready when you're ready, I mean it. We can be together without having sex at all, if that would make you happy."

Astarion breathed a laugh, astonished yet still a bit half-hearted. "Now, now," he chided playfully, his voice smooth, effortlessly persuasive, "that almost sounds like a challenge."

But he wanted to believe that. He did.

He does.

But, even Astarion has a breaking point.

It took a while, fuck, there was no doubt about it. Several nights of seduction falling away to mentally drifting off at the beginning and apologizing profusely afterwards when Astarion began to feel uncomfortable and backtracked, but those moments of retraction didn't matter. You never showed signs of annoyance or frustration, as if you knew that was his way of pacing himself-his starting and stopping-and it would ease the tension weighing the vampire's shoulders when he saw you were only ever concerned. Your face would always be calm, sometimes peaceful, but your hands would hover in the space between your bodies, indecisive and unsure if the man wanted your touch in those moments or not. At times he welcomed it, releasing a little sigh when your warm palms caressed his undead skin, and other times, he needed a bit of space. You never showed disapproval, if you harbored some, whenever he would push away and leave a gap between you. You only waited for him. You always moved to the rhythm he set; stopping when he told you to stop, going when he told you to go, and Astarion was sure if he asked you to give him your heart, you would carve it out with your bare hands and hold it out to him with a smile on your face. It would surely keep beating in his hands, the love you so clearly shelter for him taking root within your arteries and replacing your frivolous need for blood.

It was an odd thing, foreign, being in control of a situation after centuries of enslavement.

However, Astarion feels a shiver travel up his spine as he drinks in the groan you release into his mouth, not unwelcome.

Without breaking your kiss, the vampire walks forward, pushing you back with a hand on your chest, and you simply follow, allowing Astarion to push and push until your back collides with the cushions of the room's bed. The plain brown blankets ruffle softly, a pillow falls to the ground with a gentle thud, the mattress sinks underneath your weight as your elbows move behind you to prop your upper body, and then there's a moment of pause. Astarion's lips leave yours with a wet smack, a thin string of saliva curving in the very, very small space created by the separation, but Astarion watches you take one, two, two-and-a-half breaths before he reconnects them with a muffled moan. It's not necessary for him to breathe and he hasn't for the past two centuries, but he tries to be considerate of you.

You, content, take whatever the vampire gives you, filling and all-consuming and your lungs burning in your chest from the lack of oxygen, but you easily conclude that you would happily die here before moving away from him.

Your mind momentarily calls to the revive scroll resting in your pack, and there's a fleeting thought it might certainly come in handy tonight. Hands fumble for clothing, and when it all comes off, Astarion isn't sure where his body heat ends and where yours begin.

Everything is burning, throbbing, aching, and there's a steady pulse between the vampire's legs he can no longer ignore.

His head almost fights the motion to pull away, as if the mere notion is blasphemous, but nevertheless, Astarion pulls back and slowly opens his eyes. Your face beneath him is mildly obscured by a stray, silver curl, illuminated a pale yellow from the candlelight, but Astarion's vision clears the moment your hand delicately pins it behind his ear. Your fingers barely brush the elongated skin, but the vampire figures if his heart was still working, the action would have sent a considerable amount of blood to his cheeks.

"…You're so beautiful," your lips twitch upwards in the corners.

Astarion can't fight the urge to smile back, fangs and all, and his eyes, reminiscent of polished rubies and piercing, sparkle in adoration unbeknownst to him, darting back and forth from one of your eyes to the other. Though there's evident lust present, it becomes overshadowed by an unsure tenderness, your desires restrained in the taut of your neck, and the tips of your splayed fingers flex along the back of Astarion's knees. It's clear you're holding back, anxious to go any further despite Astarion's clear want, and the man knows that if he wanted to stop here even after going so far to be completely bare, you would let him and do so without complaint.

The vampire's thumb strokes your cheek absentmindedly, and your hands are on his chest, tenderly caressing the small indentations as if second nature.

"…So are you, darling,” the vampire kisses the tip of your nose.

The air is soft, your touches kind, and your breaths fan across the other's mouth acting as a heated, wine-scented aphrodisiac. But, as much as you soothe and woo him with cordial romanticism, you seriously need to get on with it.

So, leaning into the shell of your ear, Astarion gives you a nudge to do so. The pulsating is beginning to hurt at this point.

"Touch me," he sighs, and is able to feel the surprisingly violent shudder that racks through your body beneath him. "Please, my love," he adds. You hum. "…I am," you respond before pressing a wet, open-mouth kiss to the vampire's shoulder. "I will, fuck," you exhale, "I will."

The kisses start to travel the expanse of his skin, hot and occasionally pausing to suck and bite, up and down and wherever they can touch, trying to gauge his egregious zones, trying to see what's a yes or a no for him.

Pleasure blooms just below his stomach even though you had barely touched him yet, your fingers lightly tracing along the milky skin of his thighs spread across your lap. The pressure of your fingers gradually presses further but never restricting, never painful, only using Astarion's body as a grounding measure against your own raging urge to simply ravish the man on top of you.

'Not too fast,' you remind yourself, tilting your head backwards to reattach your lips to your lover's in a sloppy kiss Astarion happily accepts. 'Not too fast. Slow down, slow...'

You know Astarion can feel your arousal against the back of his thighs, but you stop yourself from grinding up into him, because this is all about him.

Astarion was sure he had never been this wet in his life, the nearly foreign sensation of tackiness between his thighs a bit of a sensational nightmare, and the need for release is essentially screeching in his brain, bouncing around his skull with unrestrained vigor, "touch me, touch me, fucking touch me!"

It's bordering on overwhelming and somehow feels under-stimulating at the same time. Foreplay was never a grace bestowed to Astarion while he entertained Cazador's newest sacrificial rat, them usually opting to put their own pleasure first above all else, so he wasn't entirely sure if the new experience is something he likes or hates. It feels like teasing, in a way, he supposes. Touching everywhere but where he so desperately needs, the pure torture of it all, yet it somehow makes everything better, more.

The buildup isn't bad, it's the waiting after that messes with his head.

You pull back, your half-lidded eyes staring up at Astarion, intense and almost predatory, and tug the spawn's hips forward an inch in a way that causes Astarion's heat to graze the warm skin of your lower stomach. The slight friction calls for a small gasp, a bout of pleasure flashing down the base of his spine, but things still.

"Can I...?" The question hangs off in the air, your hand, palm facing the ceiling, rests below Astarion's belly button and stops.

"Please," the spawn's eyebrows come together, now unafraid to display his frustration, and he begs, his voice tilting into a feral grumble. "Do something."

Astarion, even in the state he's in, doesn't miss the look that settles over your face the longer you stare up at him, your eyes narrow. It's shadowed, dark and hungry and wanting and in over two hundred years of being him, he finds himself unafraid to be at the receiving end of that familiar gaze. So many others sneered at him, licked their lips at the thought of mounting him as if he were nothing but this curly-haired elven beauty to be conquered, and he would let them, for Cazador. Some he would sleep with to possibly gain a sense of satisfaction, a small act of defiance to show that he could still enjoy sex on his own, but it usually ended up with this crushing ton of self-loathing on his sore back.

But, this time, it's different.

The look you're giving him sets him on fire, more scorching than the blistering flare of the goddamn sun, and his bottom lip slots between the front of his teeth in a last dash attempt to smother this pitiful thing of a choke gurgling atop the base of his tongue. He needs you; your touch, your fingers, your mouth, anything and everything he's been deprived of throughout all of this time. He's ready. Gods, he's ready.

And he commends you for your self-control, because Astarion is sure that he can't stop himself from having you now, not when you look at him like that-like you just want to fucking devour him down to the last strand of silver curl.

So, when your hand finally slips between his thighs and presses against his sweltering mound, your fingers gliding along his cunt with careful but firm precision, Astarion’s eyes nearly live up to his namesake. His back arches, his torso pressing into you so much your hand is almost squashed between the both of you, but you manage to keep the pace. There’s a silent determination ruminating from you, your motions; a promise to let him experience every gratification you have to offer and it’s clear that you’re not disappointing him. Your lover’s face falls slack, his mouth parting into a sharp ‘o’, and you resist the urge to lick at the tip of his fangs that peak under the edge of his kiss-bruised lips.

You concede, your eyes fervently follow a bead of sweat floating down the line of Astarion’s pallid neck, that no painting, nor sculpture, nor Gods can compare to your lover’s beauty. It could be a harrowing notion to others, some devout worshipers would probably sputter in indignation if you were to say that outloud, (Gale certainly would be up in arms to defend Mystra) but it remains an undeniable fact to you. His moans, uninhibited by rehearsed parade and uncomfortable deceit, spread across your face reminiscent of a sweetened vineyard swaying in the breeze that you can taste on your back molars. 

You decide, right here and now, that you worship only one man, and his name is brighter than any cosmic piece of heaven.

“I,” Astarion suddenly stutters, cutting through your glorifying thoughts, and you only now notice he’s begun to roll his hips against your hand, creating a quicker friction. “Oh, plea...” His plea dies.

“Tell me,” your head lolls to the side to catch Astarion’s eyes, but he’s too lost in chasing whatever he needs to feel, “tell me what you need so I can give it to you.” 

Unintentionally, your tone dips off as you get dragged further into the growing rigidity of your lover’s spine, the last part of your sentence dripping with desperate authority, and Astarion whines at the command in your voice that’s always so recognizable, but has him clenching around nothing in this context. This is better than he could have ever imagined, and his past sexual encounters, he gathers, don’t hold a fireball to you. There’s a volcanic simmer beneath his skin, a faint buzzing behind his eyes and the tips of his toes that leaves him both wanting to pull away and longing for more, and it's delicious.  

“What do you want, my love? You want me to go faster?”

You gauge his face, searching for any signs of discomfort or dissociation since you both hadn’t truly gotten this far without some form of regression, but you realize, with a swell of pride warming your chest, Astarion is completely enjoying himself. 

The vampire’s hips stall for a beat, the candlelight catching the jut of his hip, before he’s nodding, frantically, a few curls falling into his face from their usual sweep. They’re too pretty and frame his angular cheeks too well to brush away, so you leave them be, and instead choose to absorb this rare picture; an unpoised Astarion. 

Your wrist pangs, a cramp begins to form along your flexing tendons, but you’ll be damned if you don’t listen to his request and you speed up your fingers, the sound of sloshing wetness ringing beautifully in the middle of your ear like church bells.

You noticed when first getting to know the spawn that he carried this innate air of grace, from his years as an elven magistrate, you assumed, and even when he found himself flustered, there was always something graceful about it. So seeing him like this, keening for your touch and working himself along your fingers to clumsily chase a high he rarely got acquainted to, uncaring about how disheveled he looks…

“Yes,” he whines, “yes, I can,” he moans, “I can feel it..”

You let him do what he wants, what he needs, only keeping the pace of your fingers in their same, quick succession, lest Astarion say otherwise. The buildup is evident in the slow tremble of his thighs, in the hand he uses to instinctively reach out for you as he feels his orgasm steadily approaching, seeking a sense of ground amongst the unfamiliarity, and you promptly lean forward to allow it to snake around the line of your shoulders. Astarion’s head falls to your collarbone and his straight nose is tucking into the junction of skin beneath your earlobe, his other hand settling by his thigh and curling into a fist around the blanket.

Your eyes almost roll into your skull when his pants of ecstasy float into your ear; they’re so much closer, much more clear, and now you can hear a faint crackle, his voice rasping the longer he moans out into the dim room. 

“Gods, yes,” your lover whimpers, the sound going straight to your own arousal, “yes, yes!”

Astarion stills and it takes no magic tower mage to know the vampire’s orgasm crashed down unto him, if the sudden creamy texture pearling the tips of your fingers wasn’t indicative enough. His head tosses back, his back curving into a perfect concave ‘c’, and you lean forward to pepper the expanse of his neck with light pecks, your fingers slowing down to a lazy roll as an aid in helping the spawn on the come down. The sides of your thighs pick up the motion of curling toes and twitching kneecaps that are forced to keep themselves open on your naked hips, and a small smile stretches across your face.

Astarion’s chest is still, his vampiric attributes unable to provide him the need to take deep breaths, but his eyes are hazed, trained onto a piece of random ceiling tile. You sit against each other silently, holding him by the waist when his hips eventually stop twitching, and slowly pull your hand back, your wrist screaming in relief from being released of its awkward position. Your lover’s arm spasms, a false release of air hitching when you graze his sensitive clit.

“You okay?” You murmur, keeping your voice low to help Astarion pleasantly adjust. 

It seems to help, and your smile widens a bit when the man’s head lowers and his eyes meet yours, red irises little by little clearing from their orgasmic fog to focus on your face. It takes a minute, perhaps two-it could have been an hour for all he knows-but he eventually gets there, and his tongue darts from his mouth to salivate his lips before he simpers, knowing he probably looks extremely satisfied. You certainly notice it.

It’s an expression you’ve seldom seen on Astarion’s face save for when he finishes feeding from a particularly big bear, or you when you eventually gave him permission for your blood.

“I’m,” he pauses, “I’m wonderful, my love. That was…”

Your gaze falls to your hand, Astarion’s juices coating your fingers in a shine bordering hypnotic, and you nod. 

Astarion, now able to think in coherent lines of consciousness, is able to get a good look at you. He watches you, notices how your eyelids droop, your facial expression mirroring what he can only describe as melted adoration when your gaze languidly trails over his body before they flick up to his face. He’s seen that look so many times; admiration, but it’s never felt genuine before. There’s a warmth he receives from yours, one that washes over him and melts into his bones, forming his skin and shaping the very flutter of his lashes when you call him beautiful. The gentle touch on his waist pulls him back.

Your lips brush his, “my love,” and then they’re slotting back together. 

The kisses start lazy, relaxed and unhurried to simply have his mouth on yours, tongues dancing along each other in an easy rhythm even without music, but then Astarion feels your legs shift beneath him. He’s hiked further in your lap, but he simply lets it happen, assuming you need to adjust to get comfortable. Though, he comes to find that he’s sorely mistaken when you suddenly lean back, subsequently taking him with you. You both fall onto the bed, Astarion letting out an adorable, “umph.”

Neither one of you says anything, but you do lean forward to place a kiss to Astarion’s cheek, just below his faint beauty mark before you pepper his entire face. Your lips touch the bridge of his nose, his chin, above his smoothing eyebrows, essentially anywhere you could reach, and the domesticity of it leaves him speechless for once.

“My sweet,” you whisper, pausing in between every few pecks to speak, “can you do something for me?”

Astarion hums, his eyes closing when your lips find his neck, and you take that as a sign to continue.

"Can you get on top?" 

"I already am, my dear-"

"-I mean," you licks your lips, "on top…of my face."

"…Oh."

There's a high-pitched giggle that bubbles in the base Astarion’s  throat, involuntary but fleeting.

'Well,' Astarion thinks, his eyes widening, 'this is…also new.'

You, seeing how he pauses at the suggestion, move your finger in small circles on his hip in reassurance, and your eyes soften. "You don't have to, I just thought you might enjoy it."

"I," Astarion clicks his tongue, "I've just…never done that before."

A beat. "…No one has asked you to sit on their face before?" It's your turn to appear so incredulous, finding something like that so…so disrespectful. "Never?"

Astarion shakes his head, now beginning to shrink a little under your sudden bemused stare. He knows you aren’t mad at him, you’re never mad at him (which is why he tends to get away with minimal consequence), but he sees that your upset is genuine. And you are upset, because how can anyone deny this epitome of stunning, masculine monarchy, his ivory throne, adorned with anything less than the most lustrous jewels? What absolute madman, blind and deaf, surely, would give Astarion anything but which he truly deserves? Gold, silver, should fall between his slender fingers, molten and only his, the rarest silks and velvets hanging from his pallid limbs not unlike the knots lining a hangman tree; gorgeously morbid as he.

It makes you mad all over again, picturing those rabid animals all over Astarion, taking and mindlessly ravaging with no incentive to offer a modicum of benevolence. Hounds, the lot of them, soulless and only living to harshly breed the unwilling. How, your chest tightens as your anger makes way for a pang of sorrow, how much Astarion has suffered. You don’t want his torment to loom over him any longer, so you’ll just have to remind him; you are his, in his control. His to love, to break, to leave if he wishes it so. If he is to love you for the remainder of your long lifespans together, or if he is to simply use you to remember that he is more than the body that’s grown so foreign to him, so be it.

Your very soul clutches his, fist trembling, taut, and knuckles deathly white like a frightened babe clinging to their mother’s skirt; craving, clenching to prevent the scattered pieces of Astarion from slipping through your fingers. You’ll hold him forever, if he’ll have you. 

You will provide all you can, and accept all he’s willing to give in return, if anything. You can only hope that he receives you well and chooses you like you chose him.

Pushing those feelings down, you kiss your teeth before pulling the vampire's hips forward even more until he is basically sitting on your chest, the unexpected drag shooting a shudder of pleasure up his spine, and you smirk. Your strength often comes in handy at times. "We need to fix that. Now."

Astarion tries to hover at first, a bit too hesitant to allow his full weight to rest on your face even if his fear was a bit irrational; he’s seen you fight for Gods’ sake. And you aren’t having it. The grip on his hips grows unyielding as if they leave no room for further argument, and his puffy, flushed cunt is slowly lowering, taking its rightful place, against your open mouth. A stolen heir reunited with his true birthright, you surmise.

The pleasure that consumes you is almost too powerful, his taste flooding your senses and clouding your mind in an impenetrable smog of bliss, and you instinctively curse, your lips curling around the letters into his slick folds. Astarion releases a low whine, his head already falling towards the ceiling as if the fictional crown upon his head is too substantial, and he bucks his hips, relishing how your nose drags along his swelling bud. Your tongue explores at first, adagio to measure just where he might need you to be, but you find yourself indulging your thirst too quickly. It’s necessary, requisite, to feel his juices bead the tip of your tongue, his orgasm pooling down your throat essential for you to feel any sense of satisfaction for yourself, slurping and drinking and gulping like a man deprived for too long. Astarion’s body responds in kind; his hands reaching for you in the fray and tangling within your roots unceremoniously. It produces a moan from beneath him, the vibration against him causing a sound so ruined, it reminds you of a wounded sprite, but Astarion has never felt so safe. Even if your jaw practically aches as you attempt to inhale him (you’ll unhinge the damn thing if you have to), the man’s growing sounds spur you further, and Astarion briefly wonders if you’re truly trying to fucking eat him.

“Fuck,” he gasps, one of his hands releasing your hair to hold your forearm as it loops behind him to grip his waist.

Your hold is grounding, scalding, keeping him from getting too lost in himself, and he’s all the more thankful for it the moment your tongue slips further down his wetness to breach his hole, your nose nudging and grinding against his clit. He almost flinches away from the unexpectedness of it, but he gathers, that is what your arm around him is for.

“Fuck!”

Perhaps, Astarion’s eyes roll into his skull, this is the profound ascension Cazador is looking for; this feeling of your tongue splitting him open, lapping him along your tastebuds akin to a thirsting sinner kneeling in front of heaven’s locked gates. To him, this certainly feels no different than ascending to a higher power, and he swears he’s died-again-the moment your hand shifts to use the pad of your thumb to encircle his clit. His hips move on their own, burning from the strain but it feels so good, and rock back and forth, grinding.

You weren’t sure if you'd taken a single breath since he sat down, his thighs tightening on the sides of your face in a vice-like grip, non-verbally screeching at you to move ‘not a goddamn muscle’, not that it matters. Your view from between your lover’s legs, where you conclude your life was always meant to lead you, makes it easy to ignore the still of your chest, a dull scorch fixing around your stuttering heart as it struggles to handle the lack of oxygen. Astarion’s body glistens delectably, shiny from his sweat and arousal, and your eyes study the muscles in his stomach as they tense and twist and jump along with his keens and hisses of pleasure. Your lover’s movements titter the edge of desperate and feral, his hips rocketing along your face as if you were nothing more than an object to bring him to orgasm at this point.  ‘I’m not complaining,’ your eyes flutter closed. ‘Gods, I’m not.’

Astarion chases, following the catalytic pressure building in his stomach, tears forming behind his closed eyelids, and it goes up and up and up and-

His eyes fly open at a finger slipping past his entrance, nimble and thrusting and loudly coated in the slick of him. It’s deafening, how wet he is; it’s rich, nasty, and utterly debauched, but neither of you care. The air around you smells like sex and love and animalistic necessity, and the bed frame meets the wall in response to all of the movement.  “My darling,” Astarion cries, his voice wholly spent, raspy and sobbing. “My love, my sweet,” and he’s babbling. “Don’t stop, don’t-”

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’

“Don’t-”

Astarion, with his vast vocabulary and overall knowledge from both his time as a spawn and original profession as a magistrate, finds himself unable to describe the sensations running through him. Everything is burning, his hips sting from their motions, his stomach feels tight, but there’s also something else; something deeper. It’s ardent, starting from the bottom of his feet and ending in his chest, and it makes him feel like something is going to happen, something powerful. It buzzes, pulsates, makes his body feel heavy, the pleasure coiling in the pit of his stomach like a spring ready to snap. It’s new and a bit scary, but he knows you’ll be here, knows you’ll protect him, so he lets himself fall.

Your lover goes rigid, silent, a moment passing where every muscle and flex of his limbs comes to a complete halt, before he’s moaning, drawn out and in higher pitch. Your eyebrows draw together in concentration, eyes crossing behind your lids as your own pleasure rains down on you, and the lower half of your face is drenched in your lover’s gushing climax. He’s squirting, and by the grace of the Gods is it succulent. It comes in waves, Astarion’s hips thrusting in time with each flood of his orgasm, and your mouth remains wide open to catch it all, guzzling, taking to him like a kitten to milk.

Astarion convulses atop of your face while you work him through, globs of tears sliding down his cheek, glowing under the slowly dying candlelight, and there’s a ringing in his elongated ears. He can feel his mouth moving, words rolling his tongue and testing syllables on his teeth, but his brain can’t quite register what he’s saying.  

You certainly don’t understand him.

It takes a while for him to settle, the swirls and drags of your tongue now pulling the spawn into painful territory, and when Astarion full-on dry sobs at the feeling of your mouth, you pull away from him.

Your inhales are hefty, gasping and panting beneath him to regulate the breathing you so kindly cut off for him, your heart working overtime to accommodate, and your eyes open. Astarion’s body rises and falls with your deep lungfuls of air, his head angled down toward you in the perfect picture of ecstasy; a transcendental creature of delight and satisfaction. His eyes are misty, his waterline flushed a pretty pink beneath a new surge of unshed tears, but there’s a watery smile hanging from his lips; dopey and pointed. For a while, you don’t move, only massaging Astarion’s waist to ease his occasional spasm, and he’s thankful for it. Astarion has never felt anything so intense, so vigorous and…good.

He didn’t understand you at first, couldn't deduce why on earth you wanted to get to know him beyond the scope of bodily exploration, but at least then you could grant him the protection he needed, however confusing on his part. His mind, still deep within Cazador’s deeply inflicted hell of torture and transactional sex, had made him approach you in the first place, recognizing you as the impromptu leader of your ragtag group of weirdos, with all of his true weaknesses hidden behind a steel wall of falsehoods perfected after two centuries.  

“It was natural. Instinctive.”

But, in this moment with you, as you sit up to carefully lay his body down beside you like he’ll splinter and burst, his arousal gleaming on the lower portion of your face, he infers that he, perhaps, wasn’t meant to understand you. He was only meant to feel, let you chip through his walls with your patience, let you blanket him with your understanding serenity, to separate him from Cazador’s self flagellating sack of exhausted bones, and merely be. 

Be with you.

“Are you alright, Astarion?” You hum, observing his face, watching him for any signs of being off in any way.

Finally, the heavy weight on his tongue lifts, and he releases a low scoff, free of malice, “Simply amazing.” 

His voice is on par with stone gravel, scratchy and sore, and it makes you reach across him, heedful of jostling him too much, to grab a cup of water off the nightstand. It’s lukewarm when you tilt it against Astarion’s lips, but it helps soothe him immensely, and he clears his throat. 

“Do you,” he begins, but there’s something nervous, timidly resigned, about his tone that you instantly pick up on, “do you…want me to-”

Your lips find his, and his question trails off into the roof of your mouth, Astarion moaning softly at the taste of himself on your tongue. His shoulders ease, unaware they drew forward in rigidity to begin with. The air around you starts to clear, calm affection radiating from your heated skin and seeping into Astarion’s dead heart, and he swears upon every God he had no luxury to believe that your love may have the power to revive it. 

“No,” your lips part with a wet, muted smack. “No, I don’t want you to.”

“But,” Astarion’s words stumble, finding it hard to gather himself when your lips find his jawline, “you didn’t get to-”

“I did,” you cut him off again, smooching the side of his neck and tucking a damp curl behind his ear, “because you did.” And it’s true, “You feeling good makes me feel good, my love. Don’t worry about me.”

The vampire makes a face.

How can Astarion not when you always put him first?

His safety, his hunger, and now his pleasure, you always make sure he’s attended to first, placing yourself on the backburner more often than not, and while it’s beyond sweet, he’s starting to feel a bit guilty; guilty that he’s not giving you more than you deserve. Admittedly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, how to have a real relationship far beyond sexual exchange, and it shows. 

But, he’s learning, and you never rush him. 

Astarion holds one of your hands in his, fingers intertwining around the other’s like straw woven through a basket, a perfect interlace of devotion and comfort; destined.

“I want,” the man’s eyes find yours, his words catching the base of his throat at the warm sentiment on your face whenever you look at him, “you to be happy…with me, with us.” 

Your palm raises to cup his cheek, the vampire nuzzling into it almost instantly with a quiet sigh, and brings your forehead to press against his, the smile on your lips wobbling in affection. The man in front of you, scarlet eyes exhausted and abused but so in love and willing to trust you, allowing you to douse the flames of his own personal hell and pull him up and out means more to you than Astarion will ever understand. 

Or, Astarion’s lips curl into a sheepish grin, his eyes wrinkling in the corners, maybe he does understand you. In his own way.

He’ll never forget the moment he first felt the sun after escaping the naultaloid, the feeling forgotten after having spent so many decades in the dark, traversing the shadows and hugging close to walls like diseased vermin, and how warm it was, almost as if the beams burned brighter just for him to ease the undead chill rooted within his bones; a reunion gift.

He supposes that being with you feels the same way; the sun embracing his skin to drive away the cold, constant and unfaltering. Just…you, your love that leaves him comfortable and unsuspecting, and Astarion half expects to wake up; to find himself still stuck in Cazador’s dungeon so broken he resorted to hallucinations for some semblance of comfort. But the pair of eyes in front of him, twinkling in passion as they surveyed him, are too expressive to be an illusion. Everything feels too real, too raw, to be a dream.

“You have no idea how happy you make me, Astarion,” and your declaration is conclusive, spoken as if the only truth you know.  

For once, he completely believes you. 

His psych doesn’t wrestle with his irrational belief that you’re being untrue, that he isn’t enough for you, because you choose him. Even after he deceived you, even after all of the emotional back and forth because he is so fearful, so damaged, you still choose him despite his faults and imperfections. He sees you when he closes his eyes, you worry his days when you’re away from him, and sometimes he just wants to crack open his ribcage to make space for you. There’s no need for his heart; it doesn't fucking work, blood no longer flows through his veins yet it’s the very thing he depends on to satiate this damned bestial hunger, so it has no place inside of him where you should be.

But, you’re here. Holding him, loving him and offering your devotion as it thrums between your fingers, sculpting the shape of your lungs around the phonetics of his name like you need him to live, and it makes Astarion want to cry.

So, he does.

Your face doesn’t show panic, but you do bring him closer, cradling the back of his head as he snuggles into your neck and allows his tears to fall. His back is being rubbed in soothing circles, your touch gentle but solid, and Astarion thinks that right here and right now…

Everything will be okay.

[blckbrrybasket]

23. “Show and I’ll Learn”

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

꒰Sex Toys꒱ - 1.1k

• sharing sex toys, first use of a vibrator, friends to lovers

kinktober m.list

“Have you ever used sex toys?” 

The question made your eyes widen, not expecting that at all. It was out of nowhere, like most of Robin’s questions were. “Uh no, not really. Have you?” Chewing her bottom lip, Robin responded carefully, “Mhm. I have one.” Unbeknownst to you the reason she asked the question was because she had gone to a sex shop recently.

“Really?” You never thought Robin was a prude, but it was still a bit shocking. Not many people around here openly spoke about sex toys. That didn’t mean you were turned off from the conversation, looking at Robin with a curious smile. “Want to see it?” Of course you said yes, why wouldn't you?

She hopped off her bed, opening her bedside table, pulling out the device. It looked like a cloudy purple dildo with a rabbit that split off from the side of it. A cord was attached at the bottom, leading to a remote with a slider to determine the mode and speed.

Robin’s fingers were curled around the bottom, turning it over for you to curiously inspect it. “And what does this part do?” You pointed to the two little ‘ears’ of the rabbit finger angling down as you looked at the rabbit part. She tilted her head to look at what you pointed to. “It’s for your clit.” “Huh.” you commented, having a hard time imagining how it worked.

Your confused expression was easy to pick up on. “Do you want to try it?” You looked up at Robin curiously, “Is that okay?” She smiled brightly at your question, happy to share. “Yeah!” She held onto it while she disappeared into the bathroom to wash it for safe measure. While waiting you picked at your nails, imagining what would happen.

Would Robin touch you too? You hoped so. Before you knew it, Robin had reentered her bedroom, locking the door for extra measure even though nobody was home. “Okay first things first, I use some lube to help.” You watched her dig in her dresser, tossing underwear from her drawer to find it. You knew what lube was, but you were unsure why you needed it for the toy.

“Aha!” Robin exclaimed triumphantly, holding the bottle up. “Why don’t you just use it when you’re wet?” You shuffled your shorts off, underwear following them as you asked her. “It makes it easier since it’s different from a real dick.” Fair enough. Robin sat back on the bed, “Come here.”

Following her instructions, you sit in her lap and between her legs. “Next I usually touch myself for a bit.” You looked down, fingers hesitating. She was way closer than before, pressed against you with her chin on your shoulder. Saying fuck you to the nerves, you reach down and press your fingers to your clit. 

Robin watched you play with yourself, fingers moving up and down back and forth. Her nose slid across the top of your shoulder, watching you closely. She was entranced by you, snapping out of it when you whined. “That...that should be good.” She reached around, holding the toy.

She was so focused she didn’t realize she could ask if you wanted to control it. Yet she didn’t want you to. She wanted to control, the same way you wanted her to have the power.

The tip of it slid down through your warm folds, spinning it to coat it with your wetness. Her other hand brought the lube to it as she held the toy up again. You couldn’t look away as she poured the liquid on it, watching as it rolled down. Robin placed the bottle beside her, smearing the lube around to cover the rabbit.

“It may be a bit of a stretch,” she warned, lining it up to your entrance. Getting the gist, you slid your body down an inch or so, opening your legs to bend them over on either side of hers. Robin drew the tip up and around your clit, sliding it back down. The material was cool from the lube, making you shiver when Robin gently thrust it in. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles against your shoulder when you shiver. Robin settled it properly, your clit pressed against the rabbit. “And then you turn it  on…ready?” Once you muttered a soft yeah, Robin grabbed the remote, making sure not to tug on the cord. She slowly moved the dial up to turn the speed on low, your lips parting. “O..oh!” you gasped, hips jolting. 

Not wanting you to accidentally run away from the feeling, Robin held your hips down with an arm across them. The dildo inside moved in a circle, swirling inside you. It was impossible to keep your head up, letting it fall back as you became accustomed to the feeling, sticky arousal sliding down the toy. “Oh shit, robin..” She smiled and nodded, “I know.”

Your arms moved to the side as you held onto the sheets “I want more,” you panted. Listening, Robin turned it up as you moaned, thighs clamping around it. She laughed, knowing she had the same reaction the first time she used it. Her hand left your hips to pry your thighs open, the rabbit vibrating over your clit.

She bit her lip as your hips bucked, trying to meet the vibrations deeper, crying out when it flicked over your clit. “Oh my god!” You mewled, Robin shifting to keep your writhing legs open. She settled your back to her chest, body leaning forward to meet your arching back, her arms hooked under your legs.

The toy continued moving, sliding around the walls of your needy pussy. You had previously thought the vibrations would numb your cunt, but it did the opposite, all of your nerves feeling like they were sparked like fireworks. “Shit robin I’m-” “I know, come on. Come for me,” she whispered in your ear, your pussy clenching at her words.

At her insistence, your walls constricted as you came, eyes rolling back. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you moaned, unable to stop your reaction. Robin let go of your thighs, letting you shut them instinctively as she reached under to grab the remote and stop the toy. 

You panted, shaky hands leaving her bed to push your messy hair back. “Holy shit,” you breathed, chuckling. “I love the future.” Robin snorted at your words, coaxing your legs open to pull it out of you. She pecked your cheek, “If you ever want to use it let me know” “I will,” you answered almost immediately, giggling as you curled into her lap, completely relaxed after your orgasm.

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @marirxse, @chx-rrryc0la, @adventures-of-impala, @shesadilema13, @dreamerjj

[pinkfey]

ursula when she sees gale and mystra’s matching earrings and puts two and two together

[hxney-lemcn]

Melting — Connor x gn! reader

summery: Reader and Connor are two lovesick fools who bond over being touch starved.

tw: descriptions of anxiety

a/n: Should I make another part? Or like a series of one shots with these two? I'm tempted if anyone is interested.

wc: 1.8k

Master List

“You comin old man?” I teased Hank as I stood beside his desk, Connor sitting across from him. I was going on break and I thought we’d all head out for lunch together like we normally did. 

“Nah, not today,” Hank waved me off. “Got more work than I know what to do with.” I frowned, glancing at Connor and assuming that meant he wouldn’t be able to join either. 

Having resigned myself to eating alone, I tapped Hank’s desk in acknowledgement, “Alright, I’ll be on my way then.” I smiled at the two and Connor seemed a bit conflicted, eyes darting between Hank and I. Deciding to ignore the odd mannerism, I went to turn away.

“Connor, why don’t you go with them,” Hank offered. “I’ll hold down the fort, but don’t forget to get me something.”

“Are you-” Connor was going to ask, eyebrows furrowed, but was quickly cut off.

“Yes!” Hank exclaimed. “Go before I change my mind.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Connor thanked, a warm smile blessing his face. Whoever made him so handsome needed a raise. Well, Cyberlife is now controlled by androids but y’know what I mean. Connor’s warm gaze fell onto me and I swear my heart skipped a beat. I averted my eyes, his stare too intense for my poor heart. 

“C’mon,” I motioned him to follow me. He was out of his chair in less than a second, walking next to me and matching my pace. 

My nerves felt alight, not normally alone with the android. I tried to calm down my racing mind, scolding myself for not only thinking of my friend, but my coworker as such. I fiddled with the ring I wore, scolding myself for my inappropriate thoughts. But was it really so wrong to want to hold his hand? 

“Are you alright?” Connor asked, and I turned to face him, not realizing that he had just scanned me. “You are showing signs of anxiety.” His furrowed brow and concerned look never failed to make me melt. 

Having a topic to speak on, I felt myself calm slightly and nudged Connor lightly with my elbow, smiling lightly, “You know I’m an anxious person. But I’m good.”

His frown worsened, the hair that always fell out of place falling just a tad bit farther with the tilt of his head, “Is there anything I can do to help prevent it from happening?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m so used to it that I don’t even notice it much. That’s unless it gets really bad, but I’ve been getting better.” Connor pursed his lips, his concerned gaze swirled with frustration. “I mean being with people I know helps comfort me. And when it gets really bad, it helps if I can…kinda cling to them?” I finished in more of a questioning tone, hating the vulnerability it made me feel to admit that. I stared at the concrete as we continued to walk to the nearest fast food restaurant. 

“You can hold my hand if that would make you feel more comfortable,” Connor offered, and when I looked at him in shock, he had his hand extended out to me. My heart pounded faster. Immediately my mind started to romanticize the situation and I couldn’t stop it, even though I knew this had to be strictly platonic. There’s no way it wasn’t…

The kind smile he had turned to a frown, “Your anxiety is increasing…”

“Sorry,” I apologized for no reason really, I suppose for making him think I hate him? I suppose my anxiety really is increasing. “I’m just…I…I don’t mind, I haven’t really held hands with someone in a long time, or hugged, or…I’m rambling, sorry.”

His frown turned into an awkward smile, “You don’t have to apologize. I haven’t held anyone's hand before, so this is a new experience for me as well.” 

Squeezing my hands, I rubbed my right hand on my pants before reaching my hand out. Connor met my hand halfway and I hoped he ignored the sweat gathering on my palms once more. His hand was surprisingly warm, although I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, not to mention soft. Finally reaching the restaurant, Connor opened the door for me and I thanked him. 

He followed me as I went straight to the self-serve kiosk. It was busier than I was used to, and I didn’t even realize that I moved closer to the brown haired man that was also very handsome and very much holding my hand. We both ordered, and waited in line for our numbers to be called. I glanced over to Connor, only to find him already staring at me. 

“Are you scanning me again?” I joked lightly. 

“Even though we are in a crowded place, which seems to usually trigger your anxiety, your stress levels are surprisingly low,” Connor stated, confusion laced in his warm gaze.

“I’ve got you with me,” I replied without even thinking of the implications. Instead I just grinned at him, unaware of how he was becoming increasingly flustered. I glanced at the screen that showed off the order numbers, and noticed ours both were getting closer. 

“Excuse me,” Someone grunted, pushing past me. Which in turn caused me to press closer to Connor. 

Connor ran a diagnostic scan, wondering why he felt like his internal fans were going to explode. It came up all good, which led him to thinking about what Hank brought up earlier. 

“You haven’t noticed them touching you more lately?” Hank asked, raising an eyebrow.

Connor had noticed it, quite a bit actually. The small touches to his arm, the nudges, or even when they tried to rest their arm on his shoulder jokingly. He always looked at that last example fondly, especially when he was 6’ compared to their shorter height. 

“All their affection reads as platonic, does it not?” Connor asked, curious as ever. 

“You don’t see them hiding their laughter into my shoulder, do you?” Hank asked rhetorically. 

“No,” Connor replied anyway, led blinking yellow in thought. “So you’re saying they may have a romantic interest in me?”

Hank shrugged, clearly losing interest in the subject the more questions Connor asked obliviously, “I don’t know kid, why don’t you ask them yourself?”

Connor blinked back into reality as I called his name, his thirium pump seeming to beat faster as his name tumbled from my lips.

“Your number was called,” I said as I finally seemed to grab his attention, pushing him towards the counter. 

“R-right,” Connor stuttered lightly, embarrassed he was caught in such a daze. 

“Let’s get out of here,” I grumbled as we both got the food we ordered. 

“Of course,” Connor nodded, guiding me out of the crowded restaurant. Arm protectively wrapped around my shoulder. I didn’t mind being pressed into his side once more. My hand clung to his jacket as we continued to squeeze past people. Once we finally got outside, I let out a relieved breath, glad to be out of that packed room. 

“Would you like to eat outside?” Connor asked. It was a nice day, the warm sun beating down on the cool spring air. People bustled about, enjoying the nice turn of the weather.

“I don’t want Hank’s food to get cold,” I frowned, drawing away slightly from Connor’s side as his arm dropped to his side once more.

“I’m sure he would understand,” He replied.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Is this the same Hank we’re talking about?”

Connor joined in on my laughter, “How about we drop it off first, to be safe.” I agreed, the walk back to the precinct much lighter than the earlier tension. Was it tension or just my anxiety? Who knows. 

I took in a deep breath as a small breeze blew past. I ate a fry, watching the flowers dance in the wind to a song only they could hear. The sounds of birds chirping, people talking, and Connor flipping a coin filled the air. 

“Is the food to your liking?” Connor asked, breaking the silence. 

I looked over to him, the coin firmly held between two fingers, and shrugged, “It’s alright. What you’d expect from fast food.” 

I loved watching Connor do his little coin tricks, it became a habit to soothe his nerves. It was interesting watching him gain his own habits, becoming his own person. I remember asking why he knew how to do coin tricks, only for him to explain it was to help him calibrate his software.

As I finished my lunch, I watched as the coin rolled over the back of his fingers. Flicking it to his other hand, only to roll it between his fingers. His movement was so smooth, fluid. I can only imagine the million ways I’d fumble and lose the quarter. 

“Do you want to try?” Connor asked, offering the coin to me. I broke out of my spaced out state and stared at him like an idiot. 

“If I tried I’d find a way to accidentally fling it into the ocean,” I joked with a bright smile. 

“The probability of you…oh, that was a joke,” Connor fumbled, and I noticed that his cheeks turned a light blue. Oh my god I didn’t know androids could blush! That’s actually really cool, and I wonder how that even works. 

I laughed lightly at his fumble, “It’s okay, Connor. Besides, I leave the coin tricks for the professionals.” I winked, and then immediately panicked. Why the hell did I wink? God I must’ve looked so lame, but…why was his blue blush more prominent? And why is it so pretty? 

Blue was a good color on him. I thought that when he wore his old outfit that cyberlife fitted him with, and I still think it now. I glanced at my watch, noticing our break was almost over. I let out a dramatic sigh and flopped onto his side, causing him to hold his arm out in confusion before placing it around me gently.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I don’t mean to  make you uncomfortable.” I was so comfortable with him that I didn’t even realize how this may be uncomfortable for him. It was so weird, because one minute I’d be overthinking our interactions, and then the next I wouldn’t be thinking at all. 

Before I could get up or continue to overthink, Connor spoke hurriedly, “It’s alright, you can lean on me if you’d like.” 

“We should probably get back to work,” I grumbled, leaning my head back on his shoulder. I tried to ignore the warmth that spread through my body at his warm touch. It was such a nice feeling, I was scared to grow used to it because I wasn’t sure if it’d always be available to me. 

“We have a few more minutes,” Connor murmured back, hearing his voice so close to my ear, slightly startling me. 

Calming a bit from the slight scare, I let out a soft hum, closing my eyes. Such a peaceful moment. If only it could last forever.

[fishnapple]

How to love yourself better? A request letter from yourself. (Channelled message)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. White

Dear myself,

If I could light a fire right now, I could, just to see if that fire can compete with my light, our light. And yet I got a feeling that fire will burn brighter than us, just because it had someone to start it. But ours didn't. We stowed our fire away, our light, for fear of burning the eyes of the world? Or for fear of being engulfed in the sea of darkness outside?

Have you ever seen a solar eclipse? People gathered to watch it, a brief moment of the sun being eaten. A brief moment. Imagine how the world would be if that brief moment turned into a very long moment, an eternal one? Panic, fear, despair. We have prolonged our solar eclipse for far too long, let the Sun has its shine. Does it sound arrogant when I talk of us as the Sun? No, you should get used to it. To be the light, the be seen. Even when the Sun seems like a solitary existence on the sky, it's not, so are we.

I wanted to tell you many beautiful words, give you praises and a pat on the head. Sounds embarrassing, right? We should learn to do that more often. And then practice it with other people too, we all need it sometimes, a lot of times.

Do you know what will happen when we turn the anger on ourselves? Somehow, it will ricochet inside us and finally shoot out at other people. It's painful, for us and for them. Let's hold it in our hands, watch it breathe and stroke it gently, find where does it hurt and tend to it, then poof- it's gone. You catch anger not by throwing it around and putting it in a cage but let it heal and fly away on its own.

I'm sure that sometimes you will find yourself drowning in life, in other people's water. Losing yourself could be your worst nightmare. But you will never lose me. It's odd how we're surrounded by people but feel like we are alone in our struggle. Where did all the people go? Are they also drowning like us? In a different sea? I hope that all the seas are connected to each other so we can all find others to swim with us.

Till the next sun rise, yourself.

2. Pink

Oh, how I want to just throw away everything and run barefoot on the sand. To lie face up, watching the clouds passing by for hours. To paint the wall bright pink and yellow (this combination might hurt your eyes if you stare too long, though). But we're not a kid anymore, or so people have told us, much like how we've told ourselves, convinced ourselves to behave.

It's fascinating to watch the process of our resistance to what is taught to us. Why do we resist it so much? It feels like being gravely offended. We have our principles, and now we have to listen to others telling us what is right? What is wrong? Let me tell you, in a small whisper, it's actually nice to listen. Just listening, not obeying. It will feel like swallowing a rock. Maybe we could learn from the chickens a little, metaphorically. They swallow small rocks to aid in healthy digestion. So let's swallow some of the hard lessons.

You always like to think in concrete fashion. You try to touch your thoughts with your own hands and knead them, mould them into whatever you want. And when you're dropped into a relationship with someone, you find yourself lost that ability. It's all a jumble mess. You find your hands reaching out, grasping for something. How about the other person? Are you afraid that you will lose yourself if you hold on to them? It's fine, you won't. It's just an outdated belief that you've held on for far too long.

As we were talking about swallowing, you may want to watch what you're swallowing into your stomach, literally. Watch what you eat! Don't make yourself, ourselves suffer by bringing unhealthy things into our body. We may want to live long, you know.

Hey, if you find a dance class is too embarrassing, how about we turn off the light and dance with each other in the middle of the night. Nobody will know, but we will feel good (I'm not trying to be a flirt with myself here)

Your best friend, love.

3. Red

Make me a cup of tea, please.

Let's have a chat, just us, lying around lazily, sipping our favourite tea, imagining some weird scenarios to entertain us, playing some puzzle.

I don't have much to tell you because we talk to each other every day and I know you always try to be better for us. I love you and I'm proud of you. Let's be vain and give ourselves applause every day. Make it a pinky promise.

A reminder when you're feeling sluggish and slow, we are going to exactly where we need to be. You are guided and protected.

Keep on shining and be the little kid that runs around in the rain.

I love it when you're running wild, letting yourself, me, free, splashing colours everywhere. I just want to grab other people's hands and drag them to the dance. I love it when you're laughing, loudly, even better when you jolted others around you, oh, their surprised look, priceless.

Just be sure to take care of your body. Don't over tasking them. Work hard, play hard, but rest hard also.

Have you been thinking about going on a trip somewhere? No? Then, allow me to make a gentle request. Let me put the idea in your head. Go on, go to wherever you're thinking, there might be a surprise waiting for us, *hint: it will make our heart flutter*.

Let's make it a ritual to go on a trip every year. Let's give our mind and spirit a makeover. Dust off any tangled mess we have and prepare a space for new things to come into. I'm so excited.

It's got me thinking lately, there's this small blinking light in the back of our mind, sometimes I can see it, sometimes I can't. I want to find out what it is. It's like a signal, trying to reach us, can you feel it? Sometimes, there's this odd feeling swelling inside that you can't put your hand on and naming it. I think if we can sit still, quiet, in the dark, we could see it better. It's guiding us. To where? I got a feeling that it's somewhere deep, somewhere with a treasure, waiting for us. If we can uncover it, it will be the greatest gift that the universe has ever given us. So let's go and find it.

Love, myself.

4. Green

I have some news for you. Brace yourself for changes. They're coming, very fast, very soon. Sit yourself tight. I don't want to give spoilers, but I guess we will receive some sudden confessions or offers. What you will do with those confessions is completely your choice. You don't have to feel guilty if you don't return their feelings, my dear.

I think the way the universe is sending us this kind of surprise is telling us to reconsider our 'single' thinking mode. We have stood alone, strong and independent for so long, I think it actually makes us a little too comfortable in being alone that the thought of getting into a connection with someone can be daunting. Will we lose our freedom? What if we are dependent on them? This time, the universe is saying: 'you and your worries will not make a good journey together, break up with those worries, here, I will throw in some opportunities for you to practice '.

If you don't want romantic connection at the moment, fine, different types of connections will come. No matter what, the universe is determined to get us involved with other people. It's for our own good. I have to admit that it's hard. It's not easy to change our way of thinking and believing. So surprises will be needed.

When opportunities come, the gate is opened, we just need to receive them. Walking through the gate will feel like walking out of a confinement into the wild, lively world outside. We will be propelled into a new path that we hadn't even considered in the past. Beware of what you said in the past about how you don't want to do something, you can't imagine yourself doing something. Well, guess what, we are going to do just that, joke on us.

So, in the meantime, even if you're resisting, it's fine. Just take care of yourself, of us. Obsessive worrying can sadden our body.

Something is going away, giving space to a new energy coming in. This new energy will be softer, more loving. The harshness of the past will go away soon. Trust me.

Love, Your companion.

[lilacmingi]

MALEFICENT (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Maleficent!Seonghwa x Princess!fem reader

Word count: 6,675

Note: Reminder to please not spam-like my works! Reading through a series and liking each part when you’re finished is fine but if you wanna have multiple works of mine saved to read later, like my masterlist instead! :)

In a kingdom tucked between rolling foothills and towering mountains was a beautiful princess who lived in a castle. She was the eldest of the King and Queen and was sought after by many men.

One day while out on a walk, she met a boy with horns and large wings that spread out past his shoulders. Though the boy seemed younger than her, his appearance was still intimidating and daunting.

The princess was terrified. She had never seen a creature such as he and cowered away in fear. He insisted he meant no harm, trying his best to assure her he wasn't a threat. He introduced himself so that maybe it would ease the girl's nerves. It took some patience and a bit of convincing until the princess hesitantly and cautiously began to approach the boy.

They somehow ended up talking and the princess soon found out he wasn't such a bad guy after all, in fact, he was pleasant to be around.

After that day, they continued to meet up, going on walks together, admiring nature, and sharing stories. The winged boy had fallen for the princess along the way, despite her being five years older than him. Seeing as he hadn't met many people, the age difference wasn't a problem in his eyes; she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

Time passed and eventually he couldn't take it anymore, couldn't hold back his feelings. He needed to set them free.

One sunny spring day, he led the princess out to a field overlooking the glistening streams winding and twisting throughout the valleys below. He poured his heart out, confessing the strong adoration he held for the princess.

Her bright smile faded as he laid out his heart.

"I'm sorry. I've already fallen for another." She told him.

It felt as if his heart was shattered—more like crushed.

He asked why, begged for a further explanation. The princess returned with a simple response.

"I love him."

That made the boy angry. They spent all that time together and she fell for another man?

"Is there something wrong with me?" He asked sharply.

"I'm sorry. I've only ever seen you as a younger brother. Even so, I don't think I could be with someone such as yourself."

"Such as myself? What's that supposed to mean?"

The princess began stumbling over her words, desperately trying to come up with an explanation.

"That's not what I meant." She tried to say.

The boy was already angry, but that comment sent him over the edge.

He lashed out at the princess, enraged that she didn't return his feelings and even more so that she referred to his appearance in a negative way. As he spit his words of poison, the sky turned gray; his powers unknowingly effecting the weather.

He told the princess he never wanted to see her again and disappeared, deep into the woods never to return.

Six years passed. The boy was now a man; 23 to be exact. Heartbroken and emotionally destroyed, he kept himself hidden in the forest, his home now surrounded by thorns to keep everyone away. He would never let his heart get broken again.

He hadn't seen another human in years so he assumed the wall of sharp spikes worked, until one day.

You meandered down the trails that lined the hillside. Life as royalty is suffocating, especially when you're always getting compared to your older sister. It's physically and emotionally exhausting and sometimes you just need to get away from it all.

You took in a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air; the many scents of nature mixing and mingling together in the most magical way. You trekked up the hill, admiring the beautiful flowers and wild plants that dotted it.

You reached a nice, flat area, sitting down in the lush grass and admiring the view. Scanning the horizon, your eyes landed on the tree line that sat on what everyone calls the boundary line. It was strange to you how the weather was different above the large cluster of trees compared to the rest of the sky. The clouds at the boundary line and beyond were dark and looked ominous. Not only that, but an area that overlooks the valleys was even affected by the dreary and bleak weather. No flowers or plants grew in that spot which you found odd.

You looked down at the tree line once again. There was something that tugged at your chest, drawing your towards it. It was an odd sensation that you hadn't felt before. Without realizing, you stood up, descending down the hill towards the edge of the forest.

You didn't think twice when you stepped over the boundary line and into the lush and mysterious grove.

The atmosphere became colder, darker, and even a bit eerie as you moved deeper into the woods—despite that, you refused to turn back, feeling like you needed to keep going.

You came upon a large wall of thorns that blocked the way. Your brows knit together as you tried to get a peek at what was behind it.

"What are you doing here?" Someone asked.

You let out a short gasp, spinning towards the voice.

Standing a few feet away was a man. His raven hair reached below his cheekbones, black tendrils hanging over his extremely handsome features, pointed ears peeking out from his dark locks. Emerging from the top of his head were two rather large horns, even larger wings on his back.

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry." You apologized.

"You need to leave." He spoke sharply. "You don't belong here."

"My apologies. I didn't think anyone lived here."

"Well, I do."

"What's your name?" You inquired.

"You don't need to know my name."

"But I'd like to."

He clenched his jaw, refusing to answer.

You tilted your head as you looked at the massive pair of wings on the man's back.

"I'm gonna call you Birdie."

"There's no need for that."

"So, you're gonna tell me your name?" You raised a brow.

"No."

"Okay then, Birdie."

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Seonghwa." He finally answered.

"What was that?"

"I'm not gonna say it again."

"Seonghwa." You repeated. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Y/n."

"I know who you are." He snapped.

"You do? But, I've never met you."

"I already asked you once. Leave."

You took a few steps forward, obeying his wishes only to stop when you got near him.

"Why do you live here? It's so dark and it seems a bit lonely."

"I like it that way."

You didn't respond as you walked away, leaving the strange man in the woods.

Seonghwa stood and watched you leave, wanting to make sure you didn't turn around—you didn't.

"Y/n L/n." He muttered under his breath his face scrunching in distaste.

He was glad you left. He couldn't hardly look at you without thinking of her.

Thoughts of the winged man in the woods filled your mind to the brim even after you returned home. You couldn't just forget about him, your good nature wouldn't let you. You knew something was troubling him. It was very clear that he was in anguish. You felt that tugging in your chest whenever you thought of him. That let you know you needed to go back to the man—and that you did.

Unfortunately, you weren't able to get away from the castle for a couple days thanks to your royal duties. However, today was perfect.

"I'm going out for a walk." You announced.

"Don't go past the boundary line, okay?" Your father called.

"Of course. I'll be sure to steer clear." You lied through your teeth, stepping outside.

The bottom of your shoes hit the grass rapidly as you raced across the field to the boundary line and into the forest.

"Seonghwa?" You called out.

No answer.

Assuming he was at home, you headed to the wall of thorns you were at just a few days prior. His house most likely resided just past the large barrier which you couldn't see past.

"Is anyone home?" You shouted.

Nothing.

"Seonghwa?"

Still no answer.

You let out a sigh and stepped away, going to search the woods. You very well could have just left, but something in you felt like this man needed you.

Leaves crunched beneath the bottom of your shoes as you trekked through the forest, determined to find the winged man.

Said man was out and about, flying above the trees. He loved the way the wind felt brushing past his wings and hair. He felt free and like he didn't have anything to worry about. That feeling, however, was diminished immediately when he saw you walking below.

You heard the sound of wings flapping above you. Lifting your gaze, you saw Seonghwa descending from the sky.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his tone sharp and tinged with annoyance.

"I came to see you."

"You wasted your time. Go away."

"I just want a moment of your time. Please."

Seonghwa's jaw clenched. This was only his second time meeting you in person, but you infuriated him to no end.

Suddenly, vines emerged from the ground, wrapping tightly around your body and constricting your arms. You gasped, your heart jumping in your chest.

"What do you want?" He hissed, bringing his face closer to yours.

"I just feel like you need a friend."

"I don't need anyone." He seethed. "I'm not some charity case, okay? So stop treating me like one."

"That's not it. I just..." You trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"You just what?"

"I can't explain."

"Good." The vines loosened and retracted into the dirt. "I didn't wanna hear it anyway. Now leave and don't come back."

"But—"

"Leave!" His voice boomed.

You cowered slightly, shaken by his sudden outburst.

"Can I just ask you one question?" You asked weakly.

"If it'll make you leave, yes."

"Why are you the way that you are? Did something happen to make you this way?"

Seonghwa's jaw tightened. How could you ask something like that?

"That was two questions." He remarked.

"Someone hurt you in the past." You stated.

His eyes widened just slightly, but he was quick to recover, putting on his usual stony expression.

"I don't know who hurt you, but I'm truly sorry. I'm sure you didn't deserve it."

"I don't want your sympathy." He spat. "You don't know anything about me."

"That may be true, but I know someone hurt you deeply."

Your questions and responses were getting a little too personal for Seonghwa's liking. He wanted you out of his forest immediately.

"Get out of my sight before I burn you to a crisp." He snarled, green flames beginning to emerge from his palm.

You stared at the viridescent blaze before moving away from the winged man. You were afraid you had pushed him too far and you really didn't want to get yourself killed trying to befriend this strange forest-dwelling man, so you decided to give up.

"As you wish." You murmured, turning around and walking away.

The flames dissipated from Seonghwa's palm as he watched you get further and further away, but the more distant you got, the guiltier he felt. Why did he feel guilty?

He rolled his eyes and let out a huff before shooting off towards you. With a few flaps of his wings he was directly in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

"I have a question for you." He spoke. "How do you know someone hurt me? It could be something else, so why did you say that?"

"Well, normally when someone shuts themselves off from the world and isolates themselves, it's because someone hurt them. When I said that, your eyes twitched. Actually, they widened slightly, but you were so quick to cover it up, it looked like your eyelids twitched."

The expression on Seonghwa's face changed slightly and you could tell he was surprised by your response.

"I'm very perceptive." You explained.

"Evidently so."

"Well, if that's all you needed, I should be going." You took a step forward only for him to stop you.

"Wait."

You turned to face him, watching as he slightly rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh as if he was dreading the words he was about to speak.

"I'm... sorry." He forced out. "I shouldn't have been so harsh with you."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"Do you want to come back to my place? I could... make you some tea." The offer was genuine, but he seemed hesitant about it.

"I would love that."

"Very well." He gave a short nod and headed back towards his place.

You followed behind until he came to a stop at the large wall of thorns, waving his hand over the prickly, dead vines. You watched in awe as they separated just enough for the both of you to pass. Behind the thorn barrier sat a quaint little cottage, which you couldn't even see if you were standing outside the wall.

The interior of the cabin was incredibly cozy and had a warm ambiance to it. There were dried flowers in frames on the walls, books lining the shelves, along with little trinkets and tchotchkes littering the shelving.

"Have a seat." Seonghwa gestured to a small table as he proceeded to the kitchen.

You twiddled your thumbs anxiously as Seonghwa prepared tea for the both of you.

You watched from the table as he worked until the hot beverage was finished. He brought over a teapot and two cups, pouring tea into each one. You quietly thanked him and took a small sip.

"Now, why have you come back here?" He inquired bluntly.

So we're getting right down to business. You thought to yourself.

"It's silly." You brushed it off.

"What's silly?"

"The reason why I came back."

"I'd like an answer regardless of how it sounds."

"Very well." You sighed. "I felt a tugging in my chest. I felt like I was being pulled towards you. I don't know why, but I assume I wasn't feeling that way for no reason. Maybe it was my conscience."

Seonghwa's thick brows pulled together in a almost suspicious manner as he eyed you.

To be honest, your answer didn't sound outlandish to him. In fact, you were probably right. Your conscience was telling you to come see him for whatever reason. That he could understand. What he couldn't understand was why it had to be you.

"Right. So, you had this tugging in your chest. Your conscience, inner voice, whatever drawing you here. Now what?"

"I don't know." You shrugged. "I was kind of hoping we could be friends."

Friends? Seonghwa thought.

Why would he want that? Why would you want that?

You took a sip of tea and cleared your throat, feeling a bit awkward due to the silence.

"You have a lovely home." You complimented.

"Thanks."

"So." Your nails tapped lightly against the glass of the teacup. "What sort of creature are you, if you don't mind my asking."

"I'm a dark fairy." He answered.

"Ah. I've heard of them, I've just never seen one before. Your kind must be rare."

"They are."

Well, this conversation is going nowhere. You thought, sighing internally.

Your eyes drifted down to the table, staring at the grain of the wood like it was the most interesting thing in the world. In that moment, it was.

"Sorry." Seonghwa spoke up. "I haven't spoken to another person in a while. I'm not used to having guests."

"It's fine." You brushed it off.

"So, do the king and queen know you're here? I'm sure they wouldn't want the princess hanging out with someone like me."

"How do you know I'm a princess?"

"I told you I know who you are."

"Right." You muttered. "To answer your question, no."

Seonghwa raised a brow. "Really? You're doing this behind their backs?"

"I am."

"Hm." He hummed. "Maybe I underestimated you."

"Maybe you did." You shrugged. "So, are you gonna tell me who hurt you so bad?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's not the time." He answered, simply.

The atmosphere became quiet again and you struggled to come up with something to talk about.

"I like the dried flowers you have framed on the walls."

"Thanks. I did that myself."

"You did?"

He nodded.

"You have some near knickknacks on your shelves as well."

"I collected most of them. They're all from different places. Some were even gifted to me by some of the creatures that used to dwell in these woods."

Your eyes sparkled as Seonghwa talked, he hated it. He hated it because it made him feel things. Feelings he hadn't felt in so long.

That's why it was so hard to just push you away. He couldn't help but want to be nice to you.

"The tea is really good." You mentioned.

"Thanks. It's my own tea."

"You make your own tea?" You asked.

"I do. I collect berries and stuff in the woods, dry them out, and make my own tea bags."

You found that extremely endearing for some reason. Perhaps it was because Seonghwa seemed so intimidating and knowing he made his own tea made him seem a bit softer.

You returned home from yet another "walk." That was the excuse you used when you went to spend time with Seonghwa. You felt that you had made lots of progress with him. He no longer seemed distant when you spoke and he had even smiled a few times. Something else that changed was the feelings you developed for the dark fairy. The two of you had only known each other for about three weeks, but it felt like much longer.

You pushed open the doors to the castle and stepped inside only to be met with your mother and father, who looked rather worried.

"Where have you been?" Your dad asked.

"I told you, I went out for a walk."

"You were gone for so long." Your mom mentioned.

"I guess I lost track of time. Sorry."

"Well." Sighed your father. "It can't be helped. Come here. There's someone I want you to meet."

Your parents led you into the common room where you saw a woman and a younger man sitting on the couch.

You vaguely recognized the two, but you knew they were royals from another kingdom.

"Y/n, this is Queen Son and Prince Dongju."

"Hello." You bowed, politely.

"We invited them over because there are things we needed to discuss." You dad explained.

"What kind of things?" You asked.

"The wedding." Dongju's mom mentioned.

"Wedding?" You questioned.

"Oh." His mom placed a hand over her mouth. "She doesn't know yet, does she?"

"Mom, dad, what's going on?"

"Y/n, Dongju is your fiancé." Your dad said.

"Fiancé?!" You exclaimed.

You hadn't meant to raise your voice, but this was news to you.

"Honey, please calm down." Your mom spoke quietly.

"You've never discussed an arranged marriage with me." You spoke more calmly, trying not to let your temper get ahead of you.

"We know." Your dad nodded.

"Then why? You both told me I could be with whoever I wanted."

"You're getting to the age where you should start settling down. We've been waiting for you to find someone, but you haven't."

"So, I took too long?"

"That's not why." Your mom cut in.

"Maybe I just haven't found the right person."

That was a lie. You had found the right person. You knew your parents wouldn't approve of him, though. Especially considering the fact that he lived behind the forbidden boundary line.

"It doesn't matter now. We've chosen Prince Dongju for you to marry." Your dad spoke. "He's a wonderful young man and you two getting married will be good for both kingdoms."

You sighed, knowing you couldn't do anything about it.

"Now, we would like for the two of you to get to know each other. Him and his mother will be staying with us for the next few days so the two of you can get acquainted. That means no more going on walks."

You felt all the blood drain from your face as your father said those last few words.

No more walks.

That means no seeing Seonghwa until the prince and his family leave.

The first day was torture. All you could think about was Seonghwa. You wondered how he was doing and if he wanted to know where you were. Was he waiting for you?

Millions of questions swirled in your head as you sat with Dongju. You were hardly able to keep a conversation going as your mind filled with more thoughts of Seonghwa.

"Oh. I have a twin brother."

You blinked a few times, zoning back into the conversation.

"Hm?"

"I have a twin brother."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He's my fraternal twin. His name is Dongmyeong. He's back home with my father. Someone had to stay behind and run things while mother and I made this trip here."

"Ah." You nodded. "Is it hard to being away from your brother?"

"Not really. We're close, but sometimes I need a break from him." He chuckled.

Meanwhile, the dark fairy sat at home, his fingers tapping against his table.

"Where is she?" He asked, aloud.

He wondered where you were and why you hadn't showed up yet. He quickly decided that you were probably busy and chose to brush it off. Plus, he was still in denial of his feelings for you and forced himself to think that he didn't care for you as deeply as he really did.

You sat in your room, a heavy feeling in your chest. You missed Seonghwa. You hadn't seen him in three days and you wanted nothing more than to go spend time with him.

A tapping on your window caught your attention. You glanced over at the glass doors to your balcony, gasping when you saw Dongju outside. Jumping from your place on the bed, you scrambled over to the doors, stepping out on the balcony.

"Dongju, what are you doing here? Did you climb up here by yourself?"

"I did." He answered, breathlessly. "I wanted to talk to you."

"And you couldn't use my door to do it?"

"I had to speak to you privately. I didn't want anyone to see me."

"What's so important that you had to climb my balcony to tell me?"

"I don't want this marriage either."

Your eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah. You're a sweet girl, but I don't feel that way about you."

"I feel exactly the same. You're really nice and I like you, but not in a romantic way."

"I'm glad we're on the same page." He smiled. "I've been wanting to tell you, but every time we get "alone" time, my mom or your parents are nearby. I just felt that I couldn't tell you this knowing they were around."

"I totally understand." You nodded. "So, what should we do about this?"

Seonghwa had become worried at this point. He hadn't seen you in three days. He went back and forth with himself trying to decide if he was going to see your or not. He really wanted to, but he hasn't left the forest ever, especially not after she broke his heart.

Before he could change his mind, he got up and hurried outside, taking to the sky.

He flew directly to the castle, hoping to see you—and he did. Upon his arrival, he spotted you and some guy outside on a balcony. You were chatting with him, looking more than happy as you did so. Seonghwa's chest began to ache as that all-too-familiar feeling of heartbreak crashed over him, except this time it was worse, so much worse.

"Okay. So we talk to our parents tomorrow and tell them we both don't want this marriage." You stated.

"Right." Dongju nodded.

"My parents are very understanding, so I'm sure we can get this sorted out."

"I hope so."

"Thank you for coming to talk to me." You thanked him, leaning in to give him a hug of appreciation, which he kindly returned.

As if things weren't bad already, you leaned in and hugged the guy. Seonghwa's heart felt as if it was being crushed. He wanted to cry, but more than anything, he wanted to do something bad—something horrible. He could feel the heat of his powers rising to the surface of his palms as small, green embers began to emerge from his hands. Then, your eyes met his.

Your brows raised at the sight of him. You hadn't expected to see him outside of the forest, let alone outside your home.

"Seonghwa!" You called out, parting with Dongju.

The prince turned his head to see who you had called out to, gasping when he saw the dark fairy hovering a few feet away.

Seonghwa grimaced at you before turning around and flying back towards his home.

"Seonghwa!" You called out to him again, but he ignored you, too heartbroken to even look at you.

You stared at the spot Seonghwa previously occupied, worry filling you to the brim.

"Who was that?" Asked Dongju.

You sighed, dropping your head. "Someone I've recently become close with. I've been sneaking off to meet him."

"What?"

"Yeah. He lives that way in the forest." You pointed, not lifting your head. "I'm not allowed to go past the tree line, but I have been for weeks."

The air became silent after your confession. You lifted your head to look at Dongju who had a soft expression on his face.

"You love him, don't you?"

Your eyes widened. "What?"

"I can tell." Dongju nodded.

"You're right." You sighed. "I do love him."

"You should tell him that."

"And how do you suggest I do that? I haven't been allowed off the grounds since you showed up. Besides, I don't even think I can. With both your mom and my parents constantly hovering over us, I won't have a chance to leave."

The next day, Dongju did his best to comfort you. You appreciated his efforts, but nothing could cheer you up. You stared at your plate of food, pushing it around with your fork.

"You need to eat your breakfast, Y/n." Dongju spoke, care and concern lacing his voice.

"I'm not hungry."

"You should eat something. Even if you just have a couple bites of toast."

You decided to listen to him, especially since his mother and your parents were watching from the other side of the table. You took a few bites of toast along with one measly bite of eggs which seemed to satisfy Dongju.

"They're getting along so well." Dongju's mom gushed.

After breakfast, your parents and Dongju's mother went out on the terrace to have tea and discuss wedding plans. For the first time since the arrival of the neighboring royals, you and Dongju were alone.

"Hey. Let's go on a walk." The prince suggested.

"I don't know." You murmured.

"C'mon. Some fresh air would do you some good."

You sighed, knowing he was right. "Okay."

The both of you got up and went outside to the terrace.

"King and Queen L/n, mom. Y/n and I are going on a walk together." Dongju mentioned.

"That sounds wonderful. Make sure you take one of the guards with you." Your mom said.

"Yes. It's better to be safe." Dongju's mom added.

"Of course." Dongju nodded.

The both of you made your way out of the castle, stopping momentarily by the guards.

"Princess Y/n and I will be going on a walk. We won't be needing your services today." He told the two guards.

"As you wish, your highness." They nodded.

With that, you and Dongju took off, embarking on your walk.

You weren't paying attention to anything as you trailed behind Dongju. You just followed him, dragging your feet through the grass.

"Where are we going?" You asked.

"It's a surprise."

You sighed, not in the mood for any surprises.

"We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

"It's a secret."

You shook your head, but allowed him to lead you to this secret location. You kept your eyes cast on the ground, watching your feet as you walked.

"Alright. We're here!" Dongju announced, prompting you go lift your head.

You gasped. You were stood in front of the tree line, the clouds looming above the sticklike branches of the trees.

"Why did you bring me here?" You asked Dongju.

"You have to talk to him."

You opened your mouth to say something, but he spoke up.

"You've got time. I'll be waiting right here."

You gave him a soft smile. "Thank you."

Taking a step forward, you passed the boundary line and made your way into the forest, determined to speak to Seonghwa.

You approached the wall of thorns that separated the dark fairy's home from the rest of the forest, hoping to see Seonghwa. You called his name, but he didn't show, leading you to believe he either wasn't home or he was ignoring you.

"Seonghwa." You croaked.

No answer.

"I don't know if you're in there, but I wanted to say I'm sorry. I know what you saw looked really bad, but I promise you, it's not what you think it is." You got no answer in return, but continued anyway. "You're very dear to me, Seonghwa." Your voice became shaky as you spoke. "You deserve the truth and that's what I want to tell you."

Seonghwa, who was on the other side of the wall listening, couldn't take it anymore. When he heard your voice crack, that was it.

Before you could speak another word, the thorns cleared and Seonghwa emerged from the opening, rushing over to you.

"Don't cry." He murmured, wiping your tears.

"Seonghwa." You sobbed.

"Shh." He shushed you, brushing your hair away from your face. "Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry." You whimpered. "I just thought I'd never see you again."

He let out a sigh. "I need to take you somewhere."

You didn't have time to speak as he scooped you up into his arms, causing a small yelp to escape you.

"Hang on tight."

Seonghwa shot into the sky, his large, inky wings flapping powerfully behind him as he carried the both of you over the trees.

You clung tightly to him as you gazed below you. Everything was so pretty from up there in the sky. It almost made you forget about your worries. Almost.

Seonghwa took you to the spot that overlooked the kingdom—the one that was always shaded by ominous clouds. Now, they had cleared, the spot now illuminated by the glow of the sun. He landed softly in the grass, setting you down.

"Let's sit." He motioned.

The two of you took a seat in the grass, admiring the view.

"Seonghwa, I have something to tell you." You spoke up.

"No." He stopped you. "I need to say this first."

You respectfully allowed him to say his piece.

"I think I've fallen for you." He admitted.

"What?"

The confession took you by surprise.

"I hated you at first. You were so persistent in trying to be friends with me and it was annoying, but eventually I started to enjoy your company. I began worrying if you showed up a little late and found myself thinking of you when you weren't around."

You frowned, your heart sinking.

"I'm sorry." You murmured.

"Let me guess. You can't be with a creature like me. Is that it?" He remarked, bitterly.

"No, not at all. It's not that."

"You don't have to lie, Y/n."

"I'm not. Seonghwa, I've fallen for you too, but..." You trailed off. "I'm arranged to be married. I was taking too long to find someone and so my parents are trying to force me to marry a prince from a nearby kingdom. That's who you saw me with last night."

Seonghwa looked relieved and saddened at the same time.

"Then why did you seem so happy. And why did I see you hug him?"

"He came to tell me that he didn't want to get married. He's just as against this as I am, and it made me happy. I hugged him because I was glad he came to tell me that. We actually planned to speak to our parents today, but he brought me here to talk to you."

"He did?"

"Yes. I haven't been allowed to leave because my parents want me and Prince Dongju to 'get to know each other.' but after what happened last night, he encouraged me to confess to you. In fact, he told our parents we were going on a walk and brought me here. I didn't even know this is where he was taking me."

"So he snuck you out just so you could come and explain everything to me?"

You nodded. "And to tell you that I love you."

Seonghwa leaned forward, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. You saw his eyes dart down to your lips as if to silently ask permission to make a move. You answered by moving your face closer to his, your cheeks becoming warm.

Seonghwa lessened the space between your mouths, your eyes closing in response to the kiss. His lips were soft against yours, moving delicately and carefully. Your hands moved to his hair, grabbing onto the long strands at the base of his neck. It was a brief kiss, but it lingered even after Seonghwa pulled away.

"You remember when you asked me who hurt me so badly?" He questioned.

"Yeah."

"Well, that person was your older sister. I was in love with her—well, I thought I was in love with her. I brought her to this very spot and confessed my feelings. She told me she loved someone else and that she only saw me as a little brother. I reacted pretty badly and shut myself off from everyone." He explained.

Everything then began to make sense. When your sister started dating her now husband, you noticed how parts of the land were constantly covered in dark clouds, but you didn't ever think much of it. After that, your parents started telling you not to cross into the forest and that it was forbidden. It also made sense why your sister wanted to move away so quickly after she married. However, you never knew about any of this.

"Do you still have those feelings for her?" You asked, not wanting Seonghwa to be in love with you because of your older sister.

"No." He answered, lacing his fingers with yours. "I said I thought I loved her. I was just a kid. I realize now that I just liked her company and I confused it for love. The person I truly love is you."

Your heart swelled with warmth and adoration.

"I want you to come back to the castle with me."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Dongju is waiting down there for me. You can return to the castle with us."

"Okay." Seonghwa nodded.

He flew you back to the tree line where Dongju was waiting. He was surprised to see you come back with Seonghwa, but happy that it seemed the two of you had patched things up.

You then explained the plan you had, telling Dongju that Seonghwa would be coming back to the castle with you both.

Once you made it home, you noticed your parents and Dongju's mom were still outside on the terrace. You instructed Seonghwa to stay inside until you motioned for him to step out. He nodded, allowing you and Dongju to go outside.

"Mom." The prince spoke up as you both approached. "Y/n and I have something to tell you—all of you."

You nodded.

"We don't want to get married."

"What?" Dongju's mom asked.

"It's true. Neither of us want this marriage." You spoke up. "Plus, I'm already in love with someone."

"What?" Your dad asked in disbelief.

"You've never told us." Your mom mentioned.

"I wasn't ready to say anything. Now, I am."

You then moved towards the doors leading to the terrace, motioning for Seonghwa to come outside.

The doors opened and he stepped out, all three parents gasping.

"Y/n, why have you brought this man here?" Your father asked.

"Because I love him."

"Do you know who this is?"

"I do."

"Y/n, this is the man that caused your sister so much sadness."

"He did no such thing." You defended. "He was hurt, that's why he lashed out at her. And as for my sister, she moved on and moved away. She has a husband and a life of her own now."

"Your majesty." Seonghwa spoke up. "I apologize for anything I might have done to make you or your daughter upset. I was 17 and just happy to have found someone who wanted to spend time with me. I confused it for love and when your oldest daughter turned me down, it hurt me and I lashed out. I said some harsh things to her and I'm deeply sorry."

Your father scowled as he looked at Seonghwa, then his gaze turned to you, his face softening.

"Dongju, what do you have to say about this?"

"Like I mentioned earlier, I didn't want to marry Y/n in the first place. I much prefer her be with someone she knows and loves." He answered.

"You don't know this man, Y/n." Your mother spoke up.

"I do. You see, I've been going to meet with him."

Your parents gasped, aghast at this revelation.

"I've gotten to know him over time and truth is, we both love each other."

As you spoke those words, you reached out, lacing your fingers with Seonghwa's. Both your parents saw this gesture.

"Look at them, honey." Your mom spoke quietly. "Do you see how their faces glow? They really do love each other."

Your father seemed to go back and forth with himself for a few moments before nodding his head. "You're right."

You felt a little bit of hope spark within you as your dad approached Seonghwa. You were surprised when your father held his hand out to Seonghwa. The dark fairy took hold, giving your dad's hand a firm shake.

"I accept your apology." Your father stated.

"Thank you, your majesty."

"But, I want you to treat my Y/n right."

"I will, sir. Promise."

"Good."

The plans for the wedding were cancelled and Dongju and his mother went back home. Your parents allowed you to spend time with Seonghwa and the ban on crossing the boundary line was lifted.

The dark clouds that constantly hung over the forest cleared and all the creatures that dwelled there came out of hiding. You didn't even know there were any other creatures besides Seonghwa that lived in the woods.

The two of you sat in the lush grass in the same spot where he confessed to you. The sun shone down on the entire kingdom, cloaking it in warmth. You plucked another flower from the grass, placing it in Seonghwa's dark hair with the others. You had given him a makeshift flower crown, placing the blooms around his head.

"How do I look, darling?" He asked.

"Beautiful."

He grinned, pulling you closer to him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his finger resting under your chin as he moved his head ever so slightly to the side, deepening the kiss.

When you parted ways, you couldn't help but smile, still overjoyed that the two of you were able to be together.

You were so thankful you chose to step past the boundary line that day, because if you hadn't, you and Seonghwa wouldn't have met each other, and you definitely wouldn't have gotten the happy ending you have now.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18

[doumadono]

ANNOUNCEMENT

This is a turning point for me. I've been silent for too long, but I can't stay quiet anymore.

I'm going through writer's burnout, and it has hit me hard. I've been writing on Tumblr and Ao3 for nearly eight years now (with about 1.5 years on my private blog, doumadono). Over that time, I've written more than 400 stories across various fandoms, created the Sinful Sunday event and a series that many people like, helped many with numerous emergency requests — so many that one masterlist wasn't enough to cover them all.

But all of this has brought me to a place where writing no longer feels like a joy, but rather a duty. In my effort to make everyone happy, I lost myself and took on too much, accepting even the most twisted and difficult requests. It made me anxious and unwell whenever I thought about writing. This is why I haven't been posting much these past few weeks. I missed the breaking point and let myself reach a place where I was seriously considering quitting writing altogether and closing both my Tumblr and Ao3 accounts.

There's something else I need to address. I feel completely detached from Jujutsu Kaisen and Demon Slayer. I no longer feel comfortable writing for those fandoms. From now on, I'll be focusing mostly on My Hero Academia. Even though the manga recently ended, both the manga and the anime hold a special place in my heart. I’ve fallen in love with the story and its amazing characters. This is what feels right to me at this moment. That doesn't mean I'll never write for Demon Slayer or other fandoms again, but not now, not at this time. Maybe in the future — who knows?

Some of you might know that I've been dealing with a flood of hateful anonymous messages. Even though I’ve grown stronger and no longer consider them relevant, it still hurts to read such nasty words. This is another factor why I need to take a break.

So, what's going to change?

Sinful Sunday will no longer cover requests, and the event won't be as regular as it used to be. From now on, I'll post some sinful pieces specifically written for this event whenever I feel it's right. I'll write only for the characters I feel attached too.

Emergency requests will be limited to two slots and will no longer have a 48-hour window to be fulfilled. Once both slots are taken, emergency requests will be closed until I manage to clear the current asks in my inbox.

As of today, my ask box has been completely cleared. I won't be replying to any past asks, regardless of their origin or topic.

Commissions will remain open, as nearly all the requests have been fulfilled.

Regarding the following projects:

The Kvitravn series will be completed this year, but I can't provide a specific date just yet as I'm still working hard to bring everything together.

There's also a new series on the horizon featuring Dabi in the lead role, with a psychiatrist!Reader as the other main character.

As for Kinktober, I made a hard decision it will not be held as an event on my blog this year at all.

As of now, I want to focus on my own little My Hero Academia based AU that I created with my best friend @crystalwolfblog , and this is something that brings me a lot of comfort nowadays, and it's what I want to focus on. I’ll likely create another blog to post everything related to this AU, to keep things organized (the blog will be linked to my pinned post). This little AU was and is my safe haven for the past year and half, and since it contains all of my favourite characters, I want to focus on it fully.

The time for purification has come. I need to rediscover my purpose and find joy in writing again. To those who understand and have stuck with me since the ThePaperPanda days — you’re amazing and adorable, and I can never express how much I appreciate you, guys 💞

I want to share one last thought. This isn’t a statement, but rather a plea to readers: please respect writers, no matter the content they choose to explore. Writing is not as easy as it may seem; it requires a significant amount of time and effort, often taking up our personal time to craft a story. Don't send anon hate. Spread love instead! The least you can do to show your appreciation is to leave a comment, even if it’s just a word or two. For you, it’s a small gesture that takes less than a minute, but for the writer on the other side, it may be a much-needed sign that their work is meaningful. So if you enjoy an author’s work, don’t hesitate to leave a comment. It truly makes us writers feel like we’re on cloud nine.

Love you all, Marcianna