#vere smut

[deviouz]

vere exudes massive switch energy. he can whimper really pretty, but can also make other people whimper really pretty.

[touchstarvedbrainrot]

A day w/ perv! touchstarved characters

MDNI yeah? Just the LIs being dirty, needy perverts over MC; they low-key take advantage of ya- nothing too extreme but pls don't read if that makes u uncomfy. Yeah just smutty headcanons basically

Perv!Kuras who gives you such caring checkups, gliding his hands over your body.. asking you to bend over and stretch for him. Look at you, being so obedient for him, showing him all the tricks your pretty body can do. It’s all part of the checkup, of course. Even when he rubs your tummy and squeezes your thighs so, so gently… just trust him, he’s the professional, he can take care of you. He can make you so good if you’d just be his Though his bedside manner is still a bit lacking, considering the way he ushers you out so quickly… hoping against hope that you didn’t notice the precum staining through the peak in the bulge in his pants as he rushes into the backroom, fingers twitching over his cock as he undoes his clothes, almost whimpering at the pent-up need for you… with each and every throb and twitch, he becomes more desperate for you… 

Perv!Ais who’s so sweet to invite you over for tea all the time. He’s a decently good host after all, always having plushy pillows and rugs laid out for you to lounge around on while you sip your tea and chat with him. Of course, you don’t know that that exact spot where you’re sitting is where he was spilling cum into his hand for the fifth damn time just thinking of your voice… or of how cute you would be squirming and whining under him, all fucked-out. You don’t know that he barely had time to wipe up the mess before you arrived, that those are your special pillows… the ones only you use to sit, and the ones he humps while he breathes in your still-lingering scent after you leave. You don’t know that while you’re chatting, he’s only thinking of pinning you down and rutting into you until your poor little hole is all sore and sensitive from him… his sweet little sparrow.

Perv!Mhin who follows you as you walk home. Just to make sure you’re not a threat, of course. Just to do recon. Certainly not so that they can watch the sway of your hips and ass as you walk. They just love letting the little critters in the dark alleys spook you, so that they can appear at just the right time, your little guardian angel always there to make you feel good safe. And to scold you, because the way you get all pouty and huffy over it makes them wonder how you’d react to their praise. Or if eventually you’d give up that bratty attitude and take the degradation like a good fucking slut. They say goodnight to you at the entrance to the tavern, though it’s only the last you’ll be seeing of them, they’re going to be keeping an eye on you. Just to make sure you’re not a threat, of course. Certainly not because the Wet Wick’s curtains are thin enough to show your silhouette as you change- oh god you’re fucking yourself and they’re about to cum on the spot

Perv!Vere who greets you as you come downstairs from your room, giving you no time to ask what he’s doing slumming in this shithole as his eyes dilate in that unnatural way. He glares at you and storms outside, because you smell like everyone but him. And that’s the opposite of what it should be. He’s about to go and tell you to stop paying attention to those idiots (yes, even Ais… he’s better than Ais, don’t you know that??) when he realizes there’s another smell on you. Your own need… all relieved now, hm? He knows he could make you feel so much better than you could do for yourself, but he has no time to dwell on that as he slinks back inside and up the stairs to your room, finding your discarded underwear with your sticky, hot wetness all over it. You’re supposed to be the needy one, not him… but that doesn’t stop him from burying his face in the soft cloth and breathing you in until you’re the only scent he knows, his tail wagging furiously as he pockets the garment and heads back outside. 

Perv!Leander who meets you at the bar when you come downstairs, who loves that sleepy, exhausted look in your eyes. You look so so so pretty like that… and it’s so easy to slip you more and more drinks until he’s herding letting your curious hands run allllll over his body… even the parts that make him shiver and bite his lip. Maybe he should tie you up instead, hm? But he won’t do that. Not yet at least, not when your sweet touch is pressing against his most sensitive spot and your tipsy self is giggling at his blushy reaction. Do you know what you’re doing to him? Please keep doing it… please, he’ll be a good boy for you just keep doing it. He takes such good care of you, leading you back up to your room, helping you strip down to your undergarments, practically tucking you in. Wait, how did he get into your room? You were sure you locked it when you left. Oh well, he’s just being sweet, nothing to worry about.. 

[vermilionsun]

As promised, here is the Mhin/Vere Hate Sex Oneshot, well-cooked and served on a silver platter. Enjoy <3

Word count: 3.5k Rating: Explicit Fandom: Touchstarved (Red Spring Studio) Categories: Other Relationships: Mhin/Vere, Mhin & Vere, Vere & Leander, Mhin & Leander Tags: Hate Sex, Smut, PWOP, Rough sex, Fingering, Biting, Dirty Talk, Against the wall, Jumbled dynamics, Top Vere, Power Bottom Mhin, Forced Proximity (kinda), Poor Leander

The night was young as patrons made their way down to the Amaryllis district, crowding the streets and specifically, once again, the Wet Wick. The sound of laughter and music filled the air, creating a lively atmosphere that drew people from all corners of Lowtown.

Mhin arrived at the bar just as the sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. They looked over the pub with disdain; it was already bustling with people.

Mhin slid into the establishment, immediately assaulted by the pungent blend of cheap alcohol, sweat, and overpowering cologne that permeated the air.

Leander had switched with the bartender, and on the counter was Vere, nonchalantly sitting cross-legged, blabbering about his latest escapades in the city to anyone who would listen while sipping on a glass of wine.

Mhin pinched the bridge of their nose and let out a soft groan before reluctantly approaching the counter. They begrudgingly took a seat on an empty stool on the other side of the bar, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

Vere's eyes narrowed as he spotted Mhin, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he observed their deliberate attempt to place some distance between themselves and him.

With a feigned casualness, Vere spun around so that he was facing Mhin directly. "Look at what the cat dragged in," he said with a playful tone. He leaned against the counter, his eyes locking with theirs for a breath.

As he finished serving a customer, Leander glanced toward the newcomer. A slight smirk tugged at his mouth as he saw their slumped physique. "Rough day?" He asked in a low voice.

Mhin rolled their eyes before looking up at Leander with a mix of annoyance and exhaustion. "When is it not? I came for the payment, nothing more." They spoke in a clipped tone, their gaze drifting over to Vere briefly, then back to Leander.

Vere leaned back against the countertop, his arms crossed over his chest, as he watched the exchange between Mhin and Leander with a thinly veiled curiosity. He called out to the pair with a jocularity that was almost mocking. "Oh, don't mind me; I'm just enjoying the show."

Mhin shot a glare at Vere before turning back to Leander, clearly irritated by the interruption. "Let's get this over with," they muttered. "I have places to be." 

Leander raised an eyebrow, noting the faint shadows under their eyes and the tension in their posture. "Ah, right to business as usual. Always one for small talk, aren't you?" He teased.

"I've got it all ready at the back for you—don't go anywhere." Leander pushed himself away from the counter, making his way towards the back of the bar. "Though, I doubt you were planning to," he added with a hint of humor in his voice.

He rummaged around for a moment but was stopped when a panicked acquaintance of his ran up to him, breathless and frantic. "Leander, you have to come quick! There's trouble on the main street," they exclaimed, their eyes wide with fear.

Leander's smile slipped from his face, replaced by a look of intense focus. His eyes hardened, and he turned to face them fully. "Trouble, you say?" he asked seriously. "What kind of trouble?" Simultaneously, faint echoes of shouting and crashing could be heard from outside the bar. 

Mhin didn't even bother to pretend to be disinterested. Trouble in Lowtown was nothing new, but the unexpected interruption left a sour taste in their mouth.

Leander straightened up, cursing under his breath as he grabbed his coat and gave his acquaintance a nod.

The door burst open, and a horde of frantic individuals flooded in, unleashing a cacophony of chaos as the street's turmoil spilled into the tavern. People were knocking over tables and screaming in panic, sending drinks and debris flying through the air. Leander sprang into action, pushing his way through the panicked crowd to assess the situation.

Meanwhile, Mhin found themselves being pushed around in the mayhem, struggling to keep their balance as they tried to make their way towards the nearest exit. They lunged towards the nearest door, propelled into a small storage room by the relentless force of the crowd, the door slamming shut and locking behind them.

Mhin stumbled inside, landing less than gracefully against a pile of crates. They let out a soft grunt of annoyance as they dusted themselves off and tried to open the door handle with no particular luck. 

"Fantastic," they muttered sarcastically under their breath to no one in particular, their irritation growing by the second. 

They whirled around, frantically scouring their cramped surroundings for any possible exit, their eyes darting in a wild search for a way out. The tiny room was cramped and dimly lit, filled with bottles and miscellaneous supplies.

When their eyes landed in the left corner, they were met with large pink glowing pupils and a fluffy red tail lodging in the shadows—Vere.

"And of course, it had to be you." They took a deep breath, trying to maintain their composure.

"Well, fate has a curious way of bringing people together, doesn't it? Even those of us who would prefer to stay far apart." The man purred lowly, his eyes narrowing in amusement as he slowly emerged from the shadows.

Mhin's eyes followed Vere's movements as they leaned against the wall, creating as much distance between themselves and Vere as the small room allowed, crossing their arms defensively. "I don't believe in fate," they retorted dryly, their gaze never leaving Vere. "Just bad luck."

Vere chuckled darkly, advancing with deliberate steps towards Mhin; narrowing the gap between them, arms loosely draped at his side, exuding an air of calculated confidence. "Bad luck, fate, coincidence—call it whatever you want. Either way, we're stuck in here together, whether we like it or not."

Mhin tensed as Vere drew closer and fixed him with a scowling glare, their voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, it's an absolute pleasure. Trapped in a tiny room with a pompous smartass. Just what I always dreamed of."

Vere feigned a look of mock offense, placing his hand over his heart as if wounded by their words. "Oh, I'm hurt. You really know how to flatter me. But don't worry, I won't let your scathing wit get to me." He leaned against the wall directly beside Mhin, his proximity causing him to brush against them slightly.

Mhin tensed, the brief contact sending a shiver down their spine. They tried to hide their discomfort and keep their cool, but the close confines of the storage room made it increasingly difficult. They shot Vere a glare, their voice dripping with annoyance. "Do you always invade people's personal space like this, or am I just lucky?"

Vere relished in the fact that he was getting under their skin, even if it was just a little bit. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, darling. I'm this close to you because there's nowhere else to go. Unless you'd prefer, we stand back-to-back in this glorified shoebox."

Mhin clenched their teeth, their annoyance growing with every word that left Vere's mouth. They couldn't decide what bothered them more—his close proximity or his infuriatingly casual use of the term 'darling.'

"I'd prefer you just shut your mouth. And don't call me 'darling' ever again."

Vere could practically see the steam coming off of them, and it only fueled his desire to rile them up further. He feigned innocence, his smirk faltering for a moment before returning full force. "Oh, why? Does it make you uncomfortable, darling?" He said the word again intentionally, his voice dripping with a mock show of affection. He leaned in closer, closing the remaining space between them; their bodies almost pressed together.

Mhin's breath caught in their throat, their heart rate quickening despite their best efforts to stay calm. They could feel the heat radiating from Vere's body against theirs, a mix of irritation and nervousness coursing through them.

"Back. Off." They warned through clenched teeth; the tension between them nearly palpable.

He ignored their warning and instead moved even closer, his body now fully pressed against theirs. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from Mhin's, their breaths mingling together in the confined space. "Make me, darling."

Mhin's pulse was racing now, their breath coming in short bursts. Their mind was a tangle of emotions—frustration, irritation—but, to their horror, a hint of something else they refused to acknowledge.

They scowled at him, their voice shaking slightly. "Don't test me."

But Vere only chuckled in response, the sound sending a shiver down Mhin's spine. His eyes bore into theirs, a mix of challenge and something darker lurking beneath the surface. As much as they wanted to push him away, a part of them was inexplicably drawn to his intensity. It was a dangerous game they were playing, one that could have consequences they weren't prepared for.

"Oh, but where's the fun in that? You're so amusing when you're all worked up like this, darling." The foxian deliberately placed his hands on Mhin's waist.

In a swift motion, Mhin retracted their dagger, pushing it against Vere's pulse point, right above his collar, heart pounding in their chest as they tried to steady their hands, their jaw clenched tight.

"I warned you. Don't... touch me." They seethed, the words punctuated by ragged breaths.

Vere didn't flinch, didn't show a hint of fear or intimidation, and held Mhin's gaze, his voice calm and steady. "Is that supposed to scare me? Do you know how easily—" Vere's hands that rested on Mhin's side now squeeze them threateningly, "—I could snap you in half?"

"You wouldn't dare." They finally breathed out, their voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

"Oh, but I would. You have no idea what I'm capable of." He leaned in closer, the tip of his nose practically grazing their cheek.

"Are you really going to risk confrontation with Kuras?"

Vere paused, his ears giving an angry twitch at their words. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face for a brief moment before being masked by his usual cocky smirk. He leaned back slightly, though his grip on Mhin stayed firm, still pinning them against the wall. His tone lost its playful edge, his voice took on a more serious tone. "Risk? Please. Kuras doesn't frighten me."

"Even without the collar, you're no match for him," Mhin continued, their tone shifting to a more confident one. They pressed their dagger a little harder against his skin, a small bead of blood forming where the blade made contact. "And you know it."

Vere's expression hardened at their words, his smirk faltering. He bit back a wince and swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You insolent little killjoy—"

Mhin leaned in a little closer, their warm breath tickling his ear. "Oh, am I getting under your skin, darling?" They mocked, using his own phrase against him.

He parted his lips to retaliate, yet the subtle nuances in their expression, the mirroring of his earlier jeering, caused a momentary hesitation to creep into his response. He clenched his jaw, his hands reflexively tightening around Mhin's sides again. "You're asking for it, you little brat."

"Oh, am I? And what are you going to do about it? You're all bark, no bite."

Vere's fingers dug deeper into their sides, his grip nearing bruising. "You haven't seen just how much bite I have."

A faint gasp of surprise escaped Mhin as they tried to keep up their bravado, albeit breathlessly.  "Is that so? Go ahead, then. Show me." They challenged, their voice barely above a whisper.

Fuck it.

Mhin felt the air leave their lungs in a shaky gasp as their lips crashed into Vere's, their free hand grabbing his collar to pull him closer, pressing their body against his in a desperate bid for more. The other let out a low, guttural moan, one hand leaving Mhin's side to tangle in their hair, his fingers fisting in the strands as he deepened the kiss.

Vere released their sides, instead wrapping his arms around Mhin's waist and pulling them flush against him. Mhin dropped their dagger with a clatter on the floor, both hands gripping his shirt now as they pressed themselves fully against him, their body molding against his in a desperate attempt to merge into one being. Vere tilted their head back, his tongue slipping between their lips, demanding and insistent, tasting them with a fervor and desire he had never even considered possible before.

Vere's hands shamelessly roamed underneath Mhin's shirt, feeling the smooth skin of their back beneath his fingertips. Mhin bit back a whimper as Vere's kisses trailed down their neck, sending shivers down their spine. Mhin's jaw tightened as they tried to suppress the moans building in their throat, their body arching into Vere's touch. 

Vere nipped and nibbled at the sensitive flesh of Mhin's neck, the urgency of his actions only growing more pronounced. A soft gasp escaped their lips as he found a particularly sensitive spot, their head falling back to give him more room to explore. The taste of their skin, mingling with the faint, lingering smell of lavender, was intoxicating. Vere wanted more, needed more. And he wasn't going to hold back any longer.

His hands slid lower, the tips of his fingers tracing the curve of their spine as he continued his assault on their neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. “God above, you’re going to kill me,” he breathes, his lips brushing against their jawline. "You're so damn responsive, darling," he growled against their neck, his voice low and hoarse.

"Shut. Up." They managed to gasp out, their voice laced with a mixture of irritation and raw need. They tried to maintain some semblance of control, but it was slipping through their fingers with each kiss and touch.

Vere chuckled against their skin; his lips curled into a smug smirk. "You make it so easy for me," he nibbled gently at their earlobe, his hips rolling into theirs.

Mhin bit down on their lip to stifle more sounds threatening to come out, their hands clenched into fists against his shoulders as they tried to keep themselves grounded.

They wanted to come up with a witty comeback, to say something to wipe that smug expression off his face, but the words died on their tongue. "Bastard..." They whined in a futile attempt.

Vere let out a low, dark chuckle, his smug smile widening. "That's right, darling. I am a bastard. A cocky, self-assured, devilishly handsome bastard."

"Arrogant. Self-centered. Insufferable." They managed to gasp out, their voice trembling. They hated how their body reacted to his touch—they hated how much they wanted him, and how desperately they craved more.

"You forgot charming. And talented. All things I've been called before. And yet, you still want me, don't you, darling?" Vere's hands moved lower, tracing the curves of their hips as he slowly started getting rid of the fabrics that restricted his access.

They closed their eyes, biting back another moan. They wanted to deny it, but the way their body reacted to his touch betrayed them. "I... hate you." They managed to gasp out, their voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of desire and frustration. 

One of his hands slowly wandered down their side, his fingers tracing a lazy path along their ribs, roaming lower and gripping their thighs. "The feeling's mutual." 

Mhin trembled under his touch, their entire body hyper-aware of every point of contact. "You're a menace… a smug, arrogant, insatiable..." They tried to speak, but their words trailed off into a gasp as Vere's fingers entered them.

Vere's fingers started moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He leaned in to whisper in their ear. "Go on, darling. Finish the sentence. Say it."

Mhin's breath hitched as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over their ear, sending goosebumps down their spine. "You're... arrogant, infuriating, and completely and utterly..." They trailed off, biting their lip to hold back a moan, chest rising and falling rapidly. "Utterly… fucking irresistible."

Vere chuckled darkly, a satisfied smirk on his face, as he heard the words leave their lips. He continued his ministrations, his fingers moving and working within them with increasing insistence and pace. "That's right, darling. Say it again. Let me hear you say it." He purred.

Mhin's breathing grew ragged as his fingers continued to move with increasing speed, their body arching against his hand.  They could feel the heat pooling in their lower belly. "Fuck you."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, darling?" He teased, his fingers curling slightly as he continued his ministrations, driving them closer and closer to the edge.

"Damn you."

"Oh, you're just making this more fun for me, darling. Keep cursing at me. Tell me how much you hate me while you writhe and moan in my arms."

Mhin let out a strangled gasp as Vere's hand suddenly withdrew, their body clenching around the sudden absence, unfulfilled and frustrated. They were so close—so close to the release that they desperately craved.

"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, darling."

"I hate you… I hate you so much…" They heaved, their chest rising and falling rapidly as they tried to catch their breath.

"Mmm," Vere murmured against their skin, tracing leisurely patterns on their skin. "I can feel just how much you hate me, darling."

Mhin felt their last shred of restraint snap, their body taking control. They grabbed his collar, pulling him closer, their lips crashing into his in a ferocious kiss. "Damn you." They gasped out, their voice trembling. "Damn you for making me want you like this." Their fingers dug into his flesh as they pushed him against the wall, reversing their positions. "Just shut up," they growled, their voice thick with longing, "and fuck me, or I swear to the gods above, you won't live another fucking day."

Vere's eyes widened momentarily at the sudden shift in power, a gasp escaping him as his back hit the wall with a thud.

A beat.

With a swift, fluid movement, Vere flipped them back around, pinning Mhin against the wall, their bodies pressed tightly together. He held them firmly, one of his hands gripping their wrists and holding them above their head. "You don't have to tell me twice, darling."

Vere didn't waste any more time, his free hand working to position his dick at Mhin's entrance, pushing inside without warning, causing the latter to leave a loud, drawn out moan as pleasure shot through their body, their head falling back against the wall.. "That's it," Vere whispered, his voice low and husky, "just like that."

Mhin's hands gripped onto Vere's shoulders, nails digging into his skin as they moved together in a rhythm that was both frantic and primal. The air was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the slick, wet noise of their bodies moving against each other. Vere's hands roamed Mhin's body, tracing every curve and dip with a hunger that bordered on despair. Mhin's nails dug into Vere's back, leaving red marks in their wake as they clung to each other. Vere lifted his head just enough to watch Mhin's face contort with pleasure, their lips parted in a silent scream. Every thrust sent a shock of ecstasy through both of them, pushing them closer and closer to the edge.

As they reached their peak, Vere's name fell from Mhin's lips in hoarse whispers like a mantra, a prayer to a fallen god that neither of them believed in, even if one's name was whispered in return.

Many hours later, Leander had finally settled the matter and restored order to the tavern, but the unexpected interruption had certainly left its mark on the evening. As he sat back down at his table, Leander couldn't help but feel a sense of unease lingering in the air. He had forgotten something, he was sure of it.

He shooed away the thought, opting to replace some of the broken bottles in the bar. As he walked to the storage closet near the bar, he made a mental note to double-check the basement inventory later, just to be safe.

He fumbled with the doorknob, only to realize it was jammed. With a sigh, he used a magic spell to unlock the door. The moment it flung open, a familiar, hooded figure darted past him and out into the early morning. He stood there, stunned for a moment, when lighter footsteps approached from behind him.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Most people would treat me to something after a night like that," Vere stretched as he walked past the bewildered man, a mischievous grin on his face. "But I suppose I'll let it slide this time," he added with a wink before disappearing into the early light outside.

[doki-doki-imagines]

tw: smut, choking, afab!reader

author note: Since I'll never have canon butler!vere I decided to write my own butler!vere, the power of brattiness is on my side LOL. I don't know how it is but I hope you'll enjoy reading this!

How you could trust that scam of a mage that is Leander is beyond you. 

“I just need a little help, nothing will go wrong I swear!” He says with a whiny voice that makes him sound so pathetic

 ‘My ass’ you thought.

That’s how thanks to your kind heart you find yourself with a new curse, that is not worse than the previous one, you must admit, but still a pain in the ass.

Talking about ass, seeing Leander jump around in full cheerleader uniform to keep the humor high between the Bloodhounds was a real sight, his mint green miniskirt flying around and rising a bit too high than it should, giving a glimpse of the curve of his ass.

Maybe if Leander put some more work in his brain rather than in his muscles you wouldn’t be in this situation. You glance at him from a corner of the bar, and your eyes soften at the scene in front of you; everyone so happy, not a single worry, just cheers and the clacks of pints of beer.

Just happiness, and you feel a pang in your heart thinking about how much you have missed all of this in your life.

A pang that rapidly left when warmth engulfed your body.

“What are you doing here, all alone?” It’s Vere's raspy voice. You turn around and you see the spark in those foxy eyes, but it takes a second, an uncoordinated movement, and your hands fall on his chest, your very naked hands on his equally bare chest.

You can see his eyes getting wide before white smoke spreads all around him, you look around but thankfully nobody notices what is going on. When you look back it’s almost hard to believe what is standing in front of you.

Vere is in a butler uniform, a purple tie matching his previous clothing, but the color of the uniform is lucid black in contrast with the white shirt. He looks at himself, maroon hair swirls with every move of his head.

“If you wanted my services you should have just asked” He chuckles, that fake chuckle he always uses to hide his real, more beautiful but way higher laughter.

You stay still, Vere is beautiful, and also very dangerous, your mouth is dry and you don’t understand if it is because of his new uniform or because his proposal sounded cunning to your trained ears.

“Come with me, master.” You notice how low his voice gets before calling you that way, his gloved hand touches your waist, slightly forcing you towards one of the many alleyways in the back of the bar. You keep walking, but your eyes find their pace looking at his face, his marks still present, the corner of his lips upwards, his ears twitching in what you suspect is delight.

Vere opens one door at the end of the alley, the wood is moldy and the red color is now barely visible, you don’t move an inch, so Vere bows a little, his hand toward the room, a silent ‘after you’.

The room is surprisingly clean, lace doily adorning the tables, fresh flowers in each vase, they are your faves and you start to question how much the little incident of before was actually planned.

“Sit down master, I’ll prepare you tea.” Vere taps on a chair in front of the kitchen island, he doesn’t wait for you to move, already walking towards the kettle, showing you his back.

“I’d rather have coffee” You reply, finally sitting where Vere showed you “Oolong tea it is then” Vere chirps, maybe hoping he got nicer was asking too much.

Silence resonates in the room, while you both wait for the water to boil, Vere never turns to you, so you have the time to admire his new fit: apart from his shoulder the upper part of the uniform is backless, you can see his spine and you remember when Ais told you that some yokai hate to have their back covered since it is one of the most sensible part of their bodies. Your heart starts to thrum faster, thinking how much you’d like to trace his spine down with your fingertips, your gaze lower till you meet the fur of his tail, so big and soft and you know how much Vere likes to take care of it.

“You should snap a picture” Vere takes you down on earth again “I’d like to look at myself when all of this will wear off.” You don’t have time to reply, but maybe it is better that way, he turns a little, so he can side-eye your reaction and you feel so little under his teasing gaze.

“Your tea.” You hesitate before taking the cup, tea has never been your favorite beverage but right now it tastes like abrosia on your tongue. Vere doesn’t even touch his cup, eye feline while he slowly walks behind you, his hands now on your shoulders.

“You look so tense.” His gloved hands try to untangle the knots in your muscles, the point of his tail tickles up your right leg, while you can sense his lips getting more and more near your left ear.

“What do you want me to do master? I’m here for you.” Vere whispers, hands sliding down your shoulders to your collarbones, lips now dangerously close to your neck. Warmth envelops your body, clothes now a bother you’d gladly get rid of.

“Touch me, Vere.” His eyes soften, you don’t see them, but you feel his sharp canines into your neck, and his gloved hands running to your chest, groping and playing with it, the sensation dulled by the layers of clothes.

“Eat me-“ Your phrase interrupted by Vere’s mouth on yours, his teeth sinking in your bottom lip, but not hard enough to break it, his tongue soon meeting yours in a passionate dance of mingling breaths and broken moans.

And it was so hard not to grip his face to pull him closer, to sink your hands in his marron hair, maybe massage his furry ears-

For now, you’ll have to settle for sucking his tongue, savoring his gasps.

Sadly he pulls away, you follow his lips not ready to relinquish the warmth his making you feel. Vere smirks, it’s nice to see such delicious prey so needy for him. He opens your pants, pushing your hands away when you try to do it, his lips finding yours each time you try to get in control of the situation.

“Turn on your back.” You follow Vere's order, not before throwing your pants somewhere on the floor. You soon feel his hand on your hair, the next moment it pushed your head onto the kitchen counter, your ass up in the air, brushing against his clothed erection.

“You want to be eaten here too?” His gloved head touches your core, still covered by your undergarment, he plays with it, snapping it against your warmth, making you whine.

“Ah-ah master-“ His chest presses against your back “I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what you want” Vere chirps, but the low tone of his voice tells you he isn’t as unaffected as he’d like to look.

“Please, touch me there!” You moan out, knowing full well you’ll be flooded by shame when your mind will start to work again.

Now it’s not a problem, not when you feel Vere’s blowing on your now exposed sex, sticky strands already drenching your thighs

You gasp and Vere chuckles before delving into your core, Vere’s tongue swept between your dripping folds in a steady motion, sweeping upwards repeatedly before kissing and sucking your clit.

Your hips jerk, pushing his face even more against your buttcheeks, your sex clenches on his warm tongue, sticky with saliva and your essence.

“Fuck, Vere-“ You grip hard the kitchen island “you are so g-good, please-” mind getting numb by the fog of pleasure, body burning in bliss.

“You have been so good, so good” He whispers, between deep licks and gentle sucking.

Vere doesn’t stop even when you reach the apex of pleasure, lapping you up like a dog. When he finally pulls off you turn around, eyes teary so he is a bit blurred, but you can see it, your essence staining his chin, some strands of his marron hair stuck on his face, your gaze trails downwards when you notice his boner constrained in his tailored pants.

“Yeah master turn around, you want this too right” His voice is raspy and you nod while he pushes down his pants, he doesn’t wear any underwear and you bask in the satisfaction you could get Vere so hard.

 He unties the bow “Gimme your hands” He orders, the soft cotton of his purple tie bonding your wrist together behind your back “This way you won’t have to worry” Vere winks, before pulling out a tissue from the front pocket of his jacket, you tilt your head silently questioning what he wanted to do, a smirks grace his face.

You understand when he pushes it into your mouth “You’ll need it, we don’t want to wake all our neighboors right?” Vere winks, and you would have gladly sent him to fuck himself if it wasn’t for your full mouth and his cock penetrating your core. You’d love to wait a moment, for the ache to dull a little, but Vere doesn’t share your idea, fucking into your hole without any care hands leaving indents on your thighs for how hard he is trying to keep you in place.

“V-Vere! S-Slow down-“ You gasps out, spine arching

“Master, you still don’t know your body?” Vere slows a little, his thrust still hitting deep into you, making you feel all his length “Your core is clenching so hard, it doesn’t want me to pull away” You close your eyes, head tilting back, letting out a shameful sigh; fuck he is right.

Damn Vere and his skills.

His right hand moves from thigh and trail up to reach your neck, so exposed and inviting. Vere grips, hard, and you gag opening your eyes wide.

“Master, please tell me to choke you.”  Red eyes swirling in liquid pleasure, mouth shaped in an ‘o’, shirt wrinkled, jacket in a similar fashion, he takes off the tissue in your mouth, drenched in spit.

“Choke me, Vere.” You gasp out the best you can, his hand so tight on your throat. He nods and moans out, the more he increases the pressure the harder you clench on his length.

You feel your mind numbing, his thrusts get faster and arhythmic, but they always hit your sweet spot which makes you see stars every time. He pressed his forehead against yours, his sweat mixing with yours, Vere pounds into you, slower, but harder and you can see his maroon tail high every time he sheath his entire length into you.

A higher moan from the man on top of you is a telltale sign of his impending orgasm, your lips touch his initiating a kiss that is all tongue and whines till you both reach your apex.

Vere pulls out and you soon feel his cum staining your thighs, you wince thinking you’ll need to ask the scam mage for some kind of pill. Vere massages your thighs “Is your throat fine?”, he kisses your knee while he waits for your answer “It has been better, but I’m fine.”

Vere nods “This curse of yours is pretty interesting, do you agree?” He pushes back some strands of his maroon hair, reddish eyes looking directly into yours.

“Talking about curses, can you untie me?” You ask arching your back, showing your still bonded wrists.

Vere smirks and a shiver runs down your spine; nothing good comes from that.

“I think the master needs to relax some more-“ Vere gets on his knees again, you lift yourself a little from the counter, looking at him in the eyes, pupils wide and with that sparkle.

You sigh “Yeah the master really needs it, the night is still long after all, help me out” You notice his tail wag left and right.

“My pleasure.”

The night is still long.

[heythereokaybye]

Going through a bit of a Nikandros phase lately (read always). Any recommendations on fics that are from his perspective or where he is the central character? Fluff, smut - everything works!

[ittorule34]

Who wants to be the next man to wrong me

[emeraldwaves]

Title: Lighter  Damen x Laurent Rating:  E (NSFW)   Word Count: 3,361

AO3 For @keephiminthebox HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Summary:

Laurent expects his crown to be heavier than it is, but when Damen looks at him, everything feels lighter. They share the weight together.

Full fic below cut, or on AO3 :)

The rays from the sun trickle into the room, lighting up the marble floors with oranges, reds and yellows, like flames licking closer and closer to their bed. It’s not the color, however, that startles Laurent. No, it’s the glistening of the crown that sits atop the mirrored dresser. The golden starburst tips catch the morning beams and it shimmers, making his eyes squint. Laurent buries his face against the pillow.

It’s not like he doesn’t have options. He can turn his face away from the crown and stare at something, or rather, someone far more attractive. The King of Akielos is right where he belongs, asleep next to him. Damen isn’t a delicate sleeper, by any means. One of his bare legs, thick and muscular, is draped over the edge of the blanket. His broad, tan chest rises and falls with each breath, his mouth open, dried drool coating the edge of his cheek where it trickled out of his mouth during the evening. It’s an unsightly look for a king, and Laurent can’t help the small smirk which pulls across his lips. Damen pulls his gaze, like Laurent can’t imagine looking at anyone or anything else but him. A scoff slips from his nose while he stares at his lover.

Husband to be, perhaps. They haven’t discussed that, and quite frankly, Laurent doesn’t want to be the first one to suggest anything of the sort. Damen, the sentimental fool that he is, will certainly bring it up sooner or later. Laurent had once told Damen his line would end with him, and he meant it. There is no one else he wishes to take as a lover, no woman he wishes to attempt to impregnate.

Wrinkling his nose at the thought, he halts his mind, thoughts getting away from him. He’s been trying to stop himself more lately, now that things are calm. There is no reason for Laurent to think of his next move at every turn. The storm has passed, and at the Summer Palace, Laurent felt the sun on his skin, kissing and burning the darkness out of him. Schemes and mind games filled with twists and back-stabbing knives no longer needed to be in the forefront of his mind.

Besides, there were far too many things to think about after they worked so hard to take back their respective thrones.

First, Damen needed healing, then, they began to put the new kyroi in place, and now… Laurent could feel the crown behind him, like a shadow encroaching on the bath of sunlight they slept in.

Laurent had Ascended. Last night with Damen by his side, the crown had been placed upon his brow. He couldn’t remember a time he had squeezed Damen’s hand so hard, his thick fingers feeling like small kindling he could snap in half.

Slowly turning his head, his eyes find the crown once more. It hasn’t moved, it sits upon the dresser, foreboding, waiting for Laurent to pick it up and place it upon his brow himself this time. Admittedly, he hasn’t touched it yet with his own fingers. During the Ascension, it was crowned on his head, and then upon returning to their private quarters, Damen had removed it, placing it down in front of the small mirror. It had been forgotten easily after that, Damen falling into Laurent so beautifully, as he always did. It was impossible to think of anything when Damen’s pupils were blown wide, staring at Laurent like he was a never-ending feast he could never get enough of. Laurent adored Damen’s gluttony.

With a soft sigh, Laurent pushes himself up, letting his legs dangle over the side of their bed. Damen doesn’t move, a rock surrounded by soft, cushy pillows and silk sheets. He’s a difficult man to stir, especially after a particularly long night of love making.

Standing, Laurent reaches down to pull a small chiton over his head. He never expected to get used to such revealing clothes, but he finds he likes the ease of it with Damen. Making his way over to the dresser, he pulls out the small bench and takes a seat. He pulls one bare leg up toward his chest, draping his arm over his knee. His fingers gently stroke over the marble surface, barely grazing the edge. He would need to reach forward just a bit to grab the crown. It’s odd, the way he feels like he shouldn’t.

The crown is his, in all senses of the word. He and Damen struggled through so much to achieve this. It was a birthright, Laurent the last living member of his family. This particular crown was designed for him, his brow. When it had been placed there, it was a perfect fit. Starburst designs decorated the front, and a blue jewel sits directly in the center. It’s golden, sparkling, and beautiful. It is for him, and yet…

For the first part of his life, Laurent never expected to wear a crown of such elegance. As a Prince, his was meant to be far less intricate, as to not upstage the King, his father, and then later, his brother. The moment they were killed, however, the crown was passed to him, something Laurent wasn’t ready for, he wasn’t certain he would ever be.

And yet, here it is, sitting before him, waiting to find its home atop his head. It was never meant to belong to him. It should’ve been Auguste’s burden to bear, and now the weight is his, and his alone.

No.

Flicking his blue gaze back toward the bed, he stares at Damen, still enjoying his beauty rest. Laurent is no longer alone. No one proved that to him better than Damen. They would bear the weights of their crowns together as they navigated their way through their new alliance, joining their countries as they had joined their hearts and bodies; their very souls merging.

Laurent sucks in a small breath and reaches forward, letting his foot drop to the ground. His palms are hot as he wraps them around the golden crown. Slowly, he picks it up, the gentle scrape of the metal against the surface makes his heart throb. It is heavier than he anticipates, but he lifts it high and slowly lowers it onto his brow, settling it against his blond hair.

Pulling his hands away, he stares at himself in the mirror. There are pieces of Auguste he has always seen in himself, but especially now as a grown adult, he can’t escape the ghost of his brother in his features on his face. Their slender cheekbones, their sky blue eyes, their masculine jawlines, the similarities are obvious now that Laurent is a man. As much as he spent his formative years planning for this moment, he feels entirely unprepared. Auguste had classes, training, educating, things Laurent had too, but far later. He only hopes he wears the crown as well as his brother would have.

His reflection makes him think he will, a small smile on his lips as he adjusts his spine to sit up straight. Auguste would be proud of how regal he was, but would probably tease him for it, too. His bookish little brother, now a man wearing the crown.

From here on out, Laurent would wear it with honor, with pride. He would stand with Damen, creating a new world together, one he is certain his brother would’ve been proud of.

“It suits you.”

Damen’s voice makes Laurent jump, turning around to face him. He folds his arms across his chest, immediately swallowing his surprise. “Look who finally decided to join the world of the living this morning,” Laurent says.

Laurent curls his fingers around the base of the crown and begins to lift it up until Damen says, “Oh, don’t take it off on my account.” He pushes himself up on one arm, silks draping over his body.

Laurent snorts, lowering the crown back down onto his brow. “Alright then.”

Damen takes a moment, drinking Laurent in with his eyes. He does this all the time, and if he thinks Laurent doesn’t notice, well, he’s more of a fool than Laurent initially thought. It’s amazing though, how Damen can look at him like he’s seeing him over and over for the very first time, like he’s never seen his eyes, his lips, his chest. He always looks so amazed as though Laurent has gifted him with something new every morning. Damen’s smile is crooked, lazily staring at Laurent sitting on the bench in front of him. He chuckles, finally moving forward on the bed while he stretches up. “I like to think of it as my crown, too. We worked so hard to procure it.”

“Oh?” Laurent asks, raising an eyebrow. “And what about your crown? Should I consider that one mine as well?”

“Of course,” Damen says, standing up, completely naked in front of Laurent. He’s not sure if he’ll ever grow used to how unbothered Damen is by nakedness, with himself, with Laurent. Laurent watches Damen saunter slowly over to the bench, his tired steps waking up as he approaches.

Thick fingers reach down, gently stroking over Laurent’s jaw. “I mean it,” Damen whispers, his voice still husky from sleep. “You look beautiful, my King.” Laurent can’t count how many times Damen has told him this fact, but it makes his heart tremble and his stomach drop every time.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Laurent breathes out finally, slowly rising to be closer to him. It’s a strange thing, knowing he needs Damen, knowing he wants nothing more than to be close to him. Before, it made anger churn in his stomach, and now, it flutters, tingling. Now, they’re the same.

Brother-killers. Lovers. Kings.

Selfishly, Laurent prefers when Damen initiates kisses, so he stands, waiting, chin tilted up toward the man he loves. Damen takes his time, as he always does, taking all of Laurent in, getting his silent permission as he cups his cheeks and slowly brings their lips together. It’s tender, gentle and loving, Damen surprising Laurent every time. He holds Laurent’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over his pale, smooth skin and Laurent tries not to melt against the hot, wet, familiar lips.

Damen opens his mouth and starts to take Laurent in, kissing him with desire as his mind and body wake up. “My King,” he breathes out slowly, his lips brushing against Laurent’s as he speaks the words.

“My King,” Laurent repeats the shared title, and he can’t help but smirk against Damen’s lips as an idea blossoms in his head. “Or should I say… Exalted,” he whispers, in Akielon, the language becoming less and less foreign on his tongue.

The breath that exits Damen’s lips is a hot shuddering one. It tickles Laurent’s lips and Damen’s hands immediately fall to Laurent’s waist, gripping him tightly. “Again,” he says.

Draping his arms over Damen’s shoulders, his hands play with the soft, brown curls that tickle the back of Damen’s neck. His blue eyes meet his lover’s browns. “Will you have your King, Exalted?” The sentence is a mix of Veretian and Akielon, the mingling of their languages only the beginning of their joining cultures.

“I love how you wear that crown,” Damen purrs in Akielon, pushing Laurent back against the dresser. His hips wiggle, feeling the heat building, a bead of sweat rolling down his lower back.

“I’m glad,” Laurent smirks, whispering as he pushes up to have their lips meet once more. Damen’s lips are such a familiar taste now, the hint of spice alway coating the tip of his tongue. It heats Laurent’s mouth, sends flames down his spine, like lightning shocking all of his limbs, making him tremble against Damen.

Damen’s hands grip his waist; he holds Laurent but doesn’t trap him. It’s disgusting how gentle this man is with him, like he’s fragile, ready to shatter at any moment. He only moves harder or faster when Laurent demands it of him, allowing Damen to push through comfort. He never thought he would be here, desiring someone, desperate to let someone inside and see through the barest parts of him. His soul and body are quickly stripped down, naked and on display for Damen and Damen alone.

Their tongues slide together, wet and sensual. It deepens then, as it always does, Damen diving into the corners of Laurent’s mouth. He explores like he’s never tasted Laurent before, as though everything is new and exciting. Damen drinks down the small moans and sighs that slip from Laurent’s mouth, his cock hardening with the thrill of taking his lover yet again. It is so easy to get Damen excited, Laurent has found an odd amount of pride in that fact.

Damen hoists him onto the dresser, thick hands pulling at Laurent’s thighs, fingers digging into his flesh as he drags him to the edge. Damen rests his head against Laurent’s shoulder, cock hard as he starts to roll his hips up. The head of his length buries under Laurent’s chiton, their cocks rubbing together.

Panting, Laurent cards his fingers through Damen’s dark hair. What a beautiful man Damen is, Laurent can’t remember the last time he saw someone so stunning. Before, it infuriated him that the man who took his brother’s life could be so handsome, so charming, so kind.

“I want you,” Damen says, like he’s confessing a secret to

By now they’ve shared each other’s bodies in a variety of ways, hard, desperate, needy, Laurent privy to so many flavors of Damen. His favorite is always slow and tender, loving; something Laurent never believed was possible when it came to sex.

After grabbing some oil off the dresser, Damen slips his hand down, tilting Laurent’s hips back enough for him to circle a finger around his hole. It slips in with ease now, Laurent used to the sensation. It’s warm and thick, but not as thick as when they’re fully connected. “You’re still stretched from last night,” Damen points out, his brown eyes glistening with need as he peers up at Laurent.

“Well,” Laurent breathes, “my ass was rarely without your cock last night.”

Damen smirks at that, like he’s proud of where he laid himself the night before. “Good,” he mutters, planting kisses on Laurent’s shoulder, two of his fingers pressing inside of him. “That’s where it belongs.”

Resisting the urge to laugh, Laurent jolts when Damen curls his fingers deep, brushing against Laurent’s most sensitive nerves. Damen slowly works him open, though he doesn’t really need to. His cock would fit. After a few hours of sleep, Laurent still feels open, ready to accept him. Perhaps his body is simply used to Damen, Laurent certainly wouldn’t mind that.

The fingers work him open slowly. Damen’s talented at this, getting Laurent to open up and be his true self around him. There’s something about Damen, like he’s constantly standing, arms wide, just waiting for Laurent to press against him. He falls for it every time. Infuriating before, but now…

There are so many things that are different now.

“Please,” Laurent whispers, no longer afraid to give in to the sensation, the needs and desires his body craves.

"Yes,” Damen replies softly, stroking his palms over Laurents legs to help him wrap around his waist. His palms spread over Laurent’s ass cheeks, pushing his back against the dresser and spreading him wide, thrusting inside. Damen shakes, and he starts to roll his hips slowly. It’s a deep fuck, Damen’s full length penetrating him completely, pushing everything inside of him all at once.

Laurent sighs, letting his head fall back, and he knows this is what sex should feel like. His mind is swimming, going white, and he loves not being able to think when Damen is inside of him like this. There are no thoughts, just his lover, and how good this feels. He’s forgotten about his crown; it sits, unmoving on his head, a background decoration, not important when Damen has consumed him.

He hooks his ankles together, bouncing slightly against Damen, moving with the slow roll of his hips. They grunt together, moaning, a hint of morning in their voices. Admittedly, they did this for a while last night, and their movements now are filled with their lack of sleep. Laurent wraps his arms around Damen’s neck and growls softly, leaning in to kiss him again.

Behind him, the dresser rattles with each thrust, barely moving. Laurent tilts his head, loving the tingling sensation of Damen’s lips against his neck. Those kisses are his favorite, the ones against the tender skin of his neck. They shoot right down to his stomach, fluttering in his belly like butterflies dancing through a spring breeze.

“Damen,” he moans, “Exalted.” Laurent likes using this title, feeling the shudder of Damen’s hips when his cock twitches inside of him.

“Laurent,” he breathes out, “you can’t just say that.”

“Oh?” he teases, rubbing his fingers over the vertebrae of Damen’s spine. “I suppose I’ll have to say it more.”

“Only if you want it to end.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Laurent pants.

Damen rolls his hips slowly, and Laurent hums, enjoying the way their bodies slot together, heated, yet sexy. Laurent always turned his nose up at the idea of romance, of having a sexual encounter like this. His experience had been little, minus the horrible things he witnessed as both a child and adult in the Vere court. They were rather open about their sexual endeavors putting on displays filled with false sounds and fake expressions, and while Laurent didn’t mind being open with Damen, he never saw the appeal before. Damen is different, Damen makes it real. The only person who deserves to have Laurent like this is Damen. No one else.

The thought alone makes him reach an edge. Damen thrusts deeply again, grunting when Laurent clenches around him. “I… Damen,” he moans deeply, kissing him as he spends himself, his body trembling through the release.

With a few heavier thrusts, and a bit more aggression, Damen is finishing too, lazily moving his hips even as his cock begins to soften. It’s possible he’ll get hard like this again, inside of Laurent. He wouldn’t mind, he could have Damen resting inside of him like this forever; it’s comfortable.

“I love you,” Damen whispers, pecking kisses against Laurent’s now drying lips.

The words aren’t the first time Damen has said such a thing, but it still makes Laurent’s heart skip a beat. He swallows, nodding, thinking about all the times he’s said those words. At one point, he’s certain he told his uncle that as a child. A farce. Even his parents, while they loved Laurent and his brother, it was different. Auguste had been the one Laurent had felt the most love from besides Damen. Auguste would’ve given him the world, and in that sense, Laurent knows Auguste would, ironically, approve of Damen.

“I love you, too,” Laurent whispers back, smiling at Damen. There’s no one else he will ever say that to.

“You know,” Damen mutters, pulling back to stare. “No one has come to get us, perhaps we could steal a few more minutes in bed.”

Laurent smiles. That sounds more than wonderful. Soon, someone will come to steal them away for the laundry list of tasks which need to be done, most of which will not be completed in one day. But for now, a bit longer alone with Damen sounds heavenly. “Perfect,” he says, hopping off the dresser, the crown slipping forward on his forehead. “Ah-” he gasps, and adjusts it, starting to take it off.

“Leave it,” Damen says, taking his hand as he starts to lead him back to the bed.

Turning around, Laurent catches his reflection in the mirror and he smiles at what he sees. Damen’s fingers are slotted between his own, thumbs brushing Laurent’s pale knuckles. Laurent’s crown is a bit lopsided still, but it does suit him, like Damen said. Giving Damen’s hand a squeeze, he nods. “Alright.” Laurent finds the crown is already lighter.

[kimiro-art]

Touchstarved smut headcanons

Where the touchstarved character like to get funky

VERE

This man loooooves getting funky in public. You sit in a little Booth at the wet wick? He will tease you. No shame AT ALL. Got his hands on places where they should not be in public.

You are shopping clothing? Well. Vere got other plans. He will drag you in one of the changing rooms and full on get funky.

"You need to stay quiet , sweety ❤️ people might hear you"

LEANDER

Man loves to get down and dirty in the shower. You are just enjoying the warm water when you suddenly find hands slide around you from behind.

"Relax :) i just wanna help you get your back clean ❤️"

Or

"This way we use less water :)"

Bullshit. He just love to see you all wet and naked and "help you clean yourself"

AIS

A bit like Leander but for him it's the bathtub or even a hot spring. Unlike Leander he is honest about his real reason.

He just loves going through the ritual of cleaning each other and being close (and fuck)

He just can relax more in a tub or hot spring and GAAWWD DAMN you will notice it too.

"Who cares if we spill water. I am only interested in you right now, sparrow ~❤️"

MHIN

It's a faaar reach but I say in Natur.

Not in public. More like a cozy privat place in Natur. Maybe something like a big garden somewhere under a tree.

Who would have thought.

It just relaxes them. Feeling the grass tickle over their hot skin. Not only does it feel good but it almost has something artistical to it.

"You look very pretty like this...❤️"

KURAS

Kuras is a classic man so he like to get going in the bedroom. It's just a privat safe space. And tbh. Kuras got a BIG bed that could be out of a Renaissance painting.

"You are just so beautiful my dear ❤️"

___________________________________________________

That's it ❤️

[fuckitwebhaal]

I, like @mightymizora , will take a brief moment tooooo plug my own fanfics!

missing the mark (bg3)

Halcyon, the Dark Urge, is a very busy man as the High Primaster of Bhaal's church. Being on time for a meeting with his new ally, Enver Gortash, is a difficult task when everyone seems to be intent on stopping him from doing so. When he finally arrives, he wants to make a reverent display out of his associate.

(8.1k words, nsfw, DD;DNE)

“I haven’t even read it yet but I need you to know I read the tag “fingering the stigmatussy” and Literally Screamed Aloud.”

memento mori (bg3)

Enver Gortash interrupts Adin'hrae--The Dark Urge--during a busy evening to make a request of him. Smut ensues, but it is not loving or warm.

(2k words, nsfw)

“I told you this but I LOVE their fucked up weird little dynamic. I want them to kill each other, I want them to FUCK, I want Gortash to see Adin'hrae in his post-tadpole era and SCREAM at the fact that Adin'hrae forGOT HIM???”

i betray you like a man (bg3)

The Dark Urge -- a tiefling named Gabriel with no memory beyond a bruised ego and a honed instinct to kill.

The Morningstar -- an aasimar named Bedivere whom has been locked away in a monastery for nigh on twenty years.

Bound by inscrutable fate and the deeds of men who play at being gods, they are brought together after a fateful nautiloid crash upon the Sword Coast. From there, it is a race against the clock to uncover the cure for tadpoles that plague their company, and the truth of the bloody past that Gabriel has left trailing behind him. Whispers from dark urges plague his mind, while the earnest pleas of Lathander guide Bedivere's steps. Time and fate are both poised against them.

(8.7k words, ongoing, slowburn)

“You know how I feel about your writing already, but I'm going to say it here too, it's delicious. Your characters, the atmosphere, the immediate feeling of place and person - on top of that handling of the gods? Lathander a familiar mortal shape but not at all mortal. Vere and Gabriel stitched firmly into the tapestry of a far wider plan and suffering for it (as I am, I am hurting). You know I've got my eyes peeled for more, I always do 😌”

say yes to me (bg3)

Minor spoilers for Gale's Act 1 Romance scene. Piety decides that he wants to return the favor, and they decide the best way to do so is to show Gale his feytouched magic.

(1.8k words, fluff, yearning)

“okay it was cute. catch me giggling a little. i think they should probably kiss. stat.”

born again in blood (da:o)

'He looked down at the chalice in his hands; blood, tainted. He looked up at the statue of Andraste that peered down upon them all. He thought of her when she died a martyr. He thought of his mother, lifesblood, the breath she gave for him at birth. He thought of himself, a child, blood-red and slick from between his thighs. He parted his lips and drank deeply.'

A mostly canon-compliant take on the events of Dragon Age: Origins that follows the path of my Tabris warden; how he deals with the weight of responsibility while trying to figure out his own identity in the midst of a crisis. Picks up post-City Elf Origin.

(32.9k words, ongoing, angst)

“The insight into Mahanon’s will to live despite everything - and because of everything - is so engaging and adds so much depth to the story!!”

[atalossofwords]

Alright folks. I need to sit down and focus on something or I'll drive myself crazy with writers block and general anxiety, so please chose a WIP for me! I'll focus on it for the following week and hopefully post a finished chapter or fic soon.

OPTIONS

Silver - "You Taste The Silver", the Ivantill streamer/actor au

Performance - "The Art Of Performance" Ivantill camboy Ivan

Midnight - "Midnight is the loudest hour" Ais/Vere/Leander pacific rim au

Also, my requests are open! I don't promise anything, but I could try to tweak with someone y'all send in!

[vermilionsun]

They are both so Mitski coded it hurts my being.

Heavy TWs on this one !

Word count: 1.5k Rating:- Fandom: Touchstarved (Red Spring Studio) Categories: Other Relationships: Mhin/Kuras, Mhin & Kuras Tags: HEAVY ANGST, Mhin-centric, Character study (?), Symbolism, Hurt/Mild comfort, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (depends on how you look at it tbh), Self-Hatered, Angst with a Happy Ending (surprise! I can do that), Soft Kuras, Smut (a little), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

"If you come any closer, you'll get hurt."

Mhin had crowned themselves a monster long before the actual entity rooted itself into their soul and bound them with unbreakable chains.

Chains that wrapped around their limbs and choked them. Claws, sharper than blades, marred the area just beneath their skin. Wings that sprouted from their back—a filthy, grotesque sight that sent shivers down the spines of anyone who dared to look upon them. Screams so tumultuously ear-piercing that could shatter glass constantly echoed in their mind.

Despite the constant torment and inner turmoil, Mhin found a twisted sense of comfort in the darkness that engulfed them—a sick kind of solace, a comfort born of morbid familiarity that whispered promises of power in exchange for their humanity. The monster within them thrived on fear and pain, ready to lash out at anyone who dared to come too close or become too entangled in the web of their twisted existence. The monster had become their closest companion, a part of their very being that they could not escape.

It made Mhin want to retreat further into the shadows, to embrace the darkness that consumed them, and to shield themselves from the harsh light of reality. The thought of letting go, of losing that sense of control and sanity, of fully surrendering to the beast within and letting it consume them entirely, horrified them, made them want to gnaw at their own flesh, pick out their feathers one by one until there was nothing left but raw, exposed skin in a desperate attempt to hold on—anything to avoid succumbing to the monster's overwhelming stimulus. Its insatiable hunger for chaos and destruction terrorized them day and night, whispering sweet threats to overtake their mind and leave them as nothing more than a shell of their former self.

The enormous bird wept and wailed in agony, feeling the weight of its own monstrous nature bearing down on it like a heavy burden that could never be lifted. The creature's once majestic wings now hang limp and lifeless, devoid of any semblance of flight—a cruel reminder of the creature's fall from grace. Its piercing cries rang through the arid terrain of Mhin's mind, a haunting dissonance that relayed the tragic fate that had befallen it.

It needed out.

The line between reality and fantasy soon blurred enough so that Mhin couldn't distinguish where one ended and the other began, leaving them trapped in a nightmarish existence of their own making.

And Mhin wanted to pay the debt.

"If you come any closer, you'll get hurt."

Mhin barked, steadying their quivering voice. A feral, wounded dog that kept running on instinct alone. Its eyes held a glimmer of recognition as it dared to reach its paw out to the world tentatively for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

And everything went up to flames. They danced and crackled around them, casting eerie shadows on the now vastly empty landscape as Mhin froze in fear, the hefty collar on their neck sending them tumbling around against their will. The guttural screams had long ceased, replaced by a deafening silence that seemed to suffocate them. That was, until their own emerged from deep within, a fervent cry that echoed through the desolate wasteland where hours ago stood Lovent.

"If you come any closer, you'll get hurt."

They chanted it like a mantra, a warning to all who dared to approach, so much so that it had worn out and lost its bite. So much so, it couldn't keep Kuras away.

So much so, they ended up falling onto white sateen sheets, their vulnerability exposed in the soft glow of the moonlight.

They promised themselves it'd never happen again; they wouldn't slip into superficial pleasures basked in the sinful kindle, sold as a cheap alternative to love.

Yet Kuras seemed otherworldly in the dim light of the bedroom, his golden eyes shining with an intensity that made Mhin's heart race.

Kuras saw beyond the façade of fear and pain, reaching out to touch the broken pieces of their soul with a tenderness that was both foreign and comforting.

Mhin's thoughts were a jumbled mess. They turned their head left and right, their eyes shut tightly, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. Yet the sensations running through their body were anything but.

Kuras was so deep inside them that Mhin could feel him in their lungs. It hurt; he was bigger than anything they had taken before. Their body trembled underneath him, every nerve ending on fire with a mix of pleasure and agony, their breaths coming in short gasps.

Mhin couldn't understand why.

Why would Kuras risk his reputation and career for someone like Mhin? Why would the man risk his life just to take a look at what Mhin concealed underneath the thin veil of indifference they presented to the world that was threatening to break apart at any moment? Why would he push them to their limits and beyond, unlocking desires and emotions that Mhin had buried deep within themselves?

Mhin mustered the courage to open their eyes. Kuras was looking down on them with a mixture of concern and longing in his eyes, his hand reaching out to gently brush against Mhin's cheek. At that moment, Mhin could swear they saw a bright halo right above the man's head. With trembling hands, they reached out for it, but their bony fingers were met with nothing but air. 

Only then did Mhin realise the man's true nature, yet they couldn't bring themselves to be afraid.

How could they be? 

How could they be afraid of the man who had laid them down so carefully, exposed them so completely that it had made them feel more alive than they had ever felt before? How could they be afraid of the man who, when taking off their clothes, whispered praise along their burning skin, tracing each scar with gentle fingertips and planting soft kisses on every imperfection?

How could Mhin be afraid of Kuras, who worshipped them like a precious work of art, a sacred being, a divine masterpiece of pure beauty, deserving of nothing but adoration and reverence?

Instead, they let their hand fall onto Kuras' head and pulled him in for a kiss.

Their first kiss. This was the first time Mhin had initiated a kiss. It was a leap of faith, dare they say, but one that felt right at that moment. The warmth of Kuras' lips against theirs erased any doubts as he moved his lips carefully against theirs, like they were made out of porcelain—fragile and precious, adjectives that contradicted the rugged exterior Mhin had always projected, and Kuras' frantic thrusts that made jolts of electricity run through their body.

Every touch, every word that left the repentant angel's lips felt like a balm to their wounded soul, healing old wounds and banishing any lingering doubts, taming the malformed dove that had once been consumed by fear and self-loathing.

Mhin moaned the other's name shamelessly, a whispered plea for more of the healing touch that only Kuras could provide, their voice filled with a mixture of longing and relief as they finally allowed themselves to fully surrender to the overwhelming emotions that had been building between them for so long.

In that moment, all barriers and walls came crashing down, leaving them vulnerable but also free in the embrace of the one person who eagerly took hold of the key to their heart before they were able to even consider stopping him.

Mhin held onto him as Kuras nuzzled in their hair, whispering words of comfort, coaxing Mhin into a peaceful sleep unlike any they had ever experienced before. The gentle rhythm of Kuras' heartbeat against Mhin's ear lulled them away, transporting them to a place of serenity they had never known existed. As they drifted off into dreams, a solitary tear slipped from Mhin's tightly shut eyes.

And if Kuras saw any value in Mhin's wretched self,

then

maybe

just maybe

they were worth the risk after all.

[popcornaddict500]

what if I... posted smut of Vere x Adam and Liv x Leander...

[leerevoid]

Do Not Touch - Chapter 1

One Lie Leads to Another

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Rating : 18+

Pairing : Mhin x afab oc

Tags : Canon-Typical Violence, Set after the Demo, Alcohol, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Smut, amab Mhin, AFAB Original Character, Named Original Character - Freeform, Origin: The Unnamed (TOUCHSTARVED), Written Pre-TOUCHSTARVED Release, Attempted Sexual Assault, Leander is a Bastard in this fic I'm sorry, I love him too I assure you it's for plot okay

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Leere arrived in Eridia a few weeks ago. After staying for some time at the Wet Wick, it was decided that she would relocate, thanks to one of Ais’ trusted friends, Sadira. 

If someone asked Leere, they were definitely more than friends in her eyes, but she wouldn’t dare say it out loud. 

Leander made a face when she told him she would be moving to the Saint Crimson Cathedral, and she didn’t appreciate in one bit the somber look he bore when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

Mhin sighed disapprovingly, and Vere moaned about how he couldn’t tease her anymore. Good riddance for this one.

She would be safe and far from the bustling noises of the tavern, there. That’s what Ais and Sadira told her. Or so she thought.

The unbated rain is thrashing on the red stained glass windows with a regular thrumming sound. Reverberating through the grand halls of the Saint Crimson Cathedral, the rainy lullaby muffles all noises, providing a well needed respite from Eridia’s sounds. The cold, hard stone walls provided a humid but safe haven to Leere. Slowly relaxing to this soft melody, she was drifting to sleep.

Falling deep into slumber, a sudden crash shook her awake with adrenaline. For a second, everything was still. Immobile, unmoving and frozen in time. It seems to stretch, and what was only seconds felt like hours to her. Slowly but surely leaving the warm spot of her bed, Leere protectively wraps herself up with her blanket. She could hear breaths, now. Ragged breaths, coming closer and closer to her door. 

Suddenly, all hell broke loose. A powerful shock rams her door to the ground, revealing a shaky and lanky figure still on their knees. Leere stops breathing, putting a hand onto her mouth and refraining herself from calling out her name. Sadira was feral , still trembling on the door and muttering mushed words in her trance. A monster . Sadira had been a monster all along. Feelings of betrayal and the smell of blood churns her stomach and she tries her best to not vomit. The deception hurts like hell, but her anger quickly let place to fear as two shiny crimson eyes locks their gaze on her small frame. 

“G-g…” Gurgled sounds emanates from Sadira’s mouth. “Sadira… ? Are you okay.. ?” Leere tries, tentatively.

“G- Give it to me !” Sadira launches herself on Leere, aiming for anything that she could grab and pin to the wall. With quick reflexes, Leere ducks to the left and bolts for the exit as Sadira crashes on the bricks with a pained grunt. The cold stone under her feet send icy spikes into her soles, and her simple bed gown isn’t enough to shield her from the sheer cold of the halls. An angered scream resonates through the cathedral, and she knows she has to keep running. Run as fast as she can and find someone - anyone -, as she is no match for a beast seemingly wanting her dead. 

She has to get Mhin, or Ais- or maybe she could get Kuras- no, that would be too far- As she runs aimlessly trying to find her escape route, she finds herself in a dead end, the red stained glass window in front of her casting its light on her, as if mocking her fate. She tries to force the door to her right, but it is barren, blocked by whatever holds the door shut from the other side. Turning back, she glimpses the tall figure of her predator held against the walls and fixating her again with her crimson eyes, teeth and claws out. 

Leere don’t think twice before grabbing the flower vase sitting on a small ceremony table before smashing it as hard as she can onto Sadira’s head. A powerful pained cry from sadira, her frame tumbling down the ground and the iron smell of blood indicates her that she has at least managed to stun the monster, at least for a few seconds. She makes a run for it, passing by the body of Sadira who still manages to scratch her leg deeply, drawing crimson blood from her flesh. Leere winces, and finds herself struggling to keep her weight on this leg. Sadira might have touched some muscles, she thinks. Her little vase trick seems to have fulfilled its goal, as she was breathing deeply, on the ground : Still conscious but she has lost her balance, if only for a time.

Dragging herself to the main hall, Leere is leaving a long and steady trail of blood. Useless to hide, she decides to open the main door. As she is unlocking the heavy iron locks, Leere hears Sadira’s whines behind her, coming closer and closer. Unbating rain muffling her cries of fear. The door suddenly opens itself up and she falls onto the pavement meddled with mud and sullied water. Sadira fell on her back, and she fells the harsh touch of Sadira’s elongated nails sinking in her shoulders. The pain is strong and blinding. 

In an instant, the added weight of Sadira’s body is removed and she barely has the time to look back before another figure scoops her up in their arms. Recoiling at the touch, a huge relief falls upon her when she gazes up and is met with Mhin’s concerned face. The downpour is even worse than earlier, and she is drenched in a few seconds. 

“Are you okay ?” Mhin’s voice betrays his concern, and she nods, still stunned and in shock. As an answer, Mhin holds her closer and tighter to his chest, taking a few steps back from what Leere quickly realises is Ais holding Sadira to the ground by the neck to stop her from trying to bite. 

Sadira hisses from the pain. Leere feels bad upon seeing the bruise she inflicted on Sadira, as blood drips from her head, meddling with rain, but then she takes a look at her calf, and thought they were even. With Sadira being held down to the ground, Ais takes a bottle out of his coat, snaps the lid open and pours its contents forcefully into Sadira’s mouth. Slowly but surely calming down, Sadira falls unconscious as Ais instructs them to make way for the wet wick again. They could tell Leander they have been ambushed by a group of Soulless, even though the man was not dupe and would probably guess the reason. 

The doors of the cathedral close behind Ais, who holds Sadira close in his arms and tells them he would assure she would not get out. What this implied more is lost to Leere, her mind muddled with shock from the traumatic experience. Mhin puts her down if only for a second, just enough to wrap her into their own coat to protect her from the rain, and holding her up again, she quietly sobs in their arms as they make way to the wet wick under the gentle gaze of the moon. 

After what seems an eternity, their only companion being the heavy, harsh rain that rattles the roofs of the neighboring houses, Mhin speaks.

“What were you thinking ?” They tell Leere, almost patronizing. 

The words ring in her ears, a reminiscence of their first meeting when they saved her life, in the back alleys of Lowtown. She huffs, unsure how to answer his inquiry which sounds less like a question and more like worriness seeping from their lips. Face hidden by Mhin’s heavy cloak, she is well guarded from the rain, expression unseen to Mhin. They can’t see the way she still looks up at them, her pink doe eyes filled with tears. Face still messed up by mud and blood, she brings a hand up and tries her best to wipe the grim of her cheeks. 

Mhin don’t seem too bothered by her lack of answer, and she leans into them more deeply, lulled by the rain and the steady pace of their steps. 

It’s only when they cross past the Wet Wick that Leere’s head turns around again, wondering. 

“Are we not going to the Tavern ?” She asks, curious and a little bit worried. She was tired of adventures for the night. 

“I’m not bringing you back to this shithole.” They respond curtly, and that was that. 

She hums, the answer having seemingly satisfied her for the moment. She can’t help but wonder where they plan on taking her, but as adrenaline wears off, her eyes start to get heavy, and next thing she knows, all is black. 

She is woken up by Mhin soft voice calling her name. Leere shifts, realizing she was still in their arms. Opening her eyes, she takes in the surroundings. They were in Lowtown, a shabby but sturdy door taking most of her vision. When Mhin realizes she is awake, they gently put her back down, still offering their shoulder for support. 

Mhin ruffles the pockets of their cloak in search of something and that’s when it dawns upon Leere. They were bringing her to their own place. 

Upon realising this, she shifts uncomfortably. It wasn’t a development she was expecting this soon, or ever, actually. She understood Mhin’s unspoken rules very clearly, back then. ‘They are not to be trusted’ and ‘Don’t get too close, or you’ll get hurt’ ring in her head. And yet. She can’t bring herself to believe even an ounce of these sentences. How could she, when Mhin had been the most supportive in her quest, ever since the start ? When they both struggled as outsiders in the middle of this huge, labyrinthic city full of secrets, where you had to fight your way into the food chain not with brawns, but with brains ? 

Leere cannot help but wonder, why they decided to bring her to their place, out of everywhere in Eridia, when the Wet Wick was right here. It would have been so easy for them to just drop her in Leander’s arms and get it over with. So, why ?

The question burns her tongue, and it’s only when she sees Mhin looking at her, still holding the door for her from the inside that she snaps out of it.

“What ?” They ask, annoyed. “You’d rather rot out here ? Be my guest.” They spit out. 

Leere awkwardly makes a beeline for the inside of the house, and the door slams shut behind her. She uses a nearby wall for support while Mhin ensures the door is properly locked, giving it a good tug before sighing. 

They were drenched. She has been wearing their cloak the whole time, and while she wasn’t in a pristine state either, Mhin looked dreadfully cold. Their white shirt left barely nothing to imagination as the white of the fabric became transparent, sticking to their slender frame. She blushes, and brings her gaze back up into their own eyes scanning her features. 

“...Let’s get you changed. Wait here.” They say after a time, leaving her alone in the corridor while they climb the stairs two per two. 

And so she does wait, but not for long. Some more ruffling could be heard from above her, furniture being dragged on the old parquet. She uses that time to look around a little. Mhin’s house was small. Leere couldn’t see much in the middle of the night, but it seemed the living room haven’t been used in a long time. Or used at all, she thinks. She perks back up when she hears the distinctive steps of Mhin going down the stairs. “Okay, come with me.” They tell simply, holding out their hand to her from the first steps of the wooden stairs, holding themselves stable and balanced with the other hand on a pillar. 

Leere nods, a little too stunned to speak. She grabs hold of their hand, and hops clumsily over them. Once she reaches the stairs, Mhin lets go of her, guiding gently her hand onto the railing. She is surprised by the delicateness they’re showing her. That wasn’t Mhin at all. At least, not the facade they put out in their everyday life. She doesn’t press. 

She climbs the steps slowly, her injured leg cold and numb from the still throbbing pain emanating of the deep, crimson wound slashing her calf. The bleeding stopped some time ago, though the flesh was still glistening. Mhin doesn’t press her, but she can feel their gaze on her from time to time, checking if she was making it steadily. 

She ends up on the upper floor by herself, and gazes upon a new room. Their room. Leere could see the way this floor was much more lively and used, the way the bed wasn’t made, or the piles of books staggering the shelves, crammed in a corner. 

Mhin guides her towards a door to her left, and she finds a small but clean bathroom. She notices a fresh change of clothes sitting on a stool, next to the bathtub. Her cheeks redden.

“I- I’ll leave you to it, then. Don’t touch your leg too much, though.” On that note, Mhin closes the door abruptly and she could have sworn seeing them blush. 

Leere sits on the edge of the already filled bathtub, warm water leaving a soothing mist, contrasting with the harsh cold atmosphere. She removes her nightgown and underwear slowly, taking care of not grazing the slash. She puts a cautious hand into the water. It’s barely warm, but it’s enough to send a shiver through her spine after the pouring rain they were subjected to. 

She slides in the tub, a deep, relieved sigh leaving her mouth. She drifts away, immersing herself completely now, aside from her hair that she had put in a simple bun earlier. However, her peace is soon shattered when she recalls the night. She trusted her. And she lied. They all lied to her. Leere felt betrayed, fragile and oh so alone, sitting in the bathtub growing colder and colder. She’s getting difficulties to breathe as she sees again the crimson, bloody eyes of Sadira who launched herself teeth and claws out, who tried to kill her. She rubs off the grim of her face and body with a newfound anger. She looks at her leg, the wound is now clean, the water near the slash taking a light reddish tint as the blood dilutes into the warm water. 

She sighs. They lied. And yet. Sadira offered her a roof when no one else apart from Leander could. She gave her free meals and nice company. She remembers that Ais was reluctant, at first, but ultimately it was thanks to him she was alive, today. So much for her hate of monsters, uh. She looks at her unbandaged, silvery hands, the coarse skin covering her forearms was a light white shade and glistened under the soft light of the candles Mhin lighted earlier. 

Mhin. Where to start when talking about Mhin. It would be a lie to say she was immune to their charms, far from it. She was head over the heels for them and she hated that she was so dependant over them and others. She was always the one getting protected. She wished she could be the protector, too. She had never been with anyone, and thinking about Mhin made the butterflies in her stomach flutter vividly. 

Leere sits up, and grabbing the towel nearest to the tub, starts taking a good look at the bundle of clothes Mhin selected for her. She puts on a light, white shirt with a large, laced collar. The bottoms are simple dark pants, comfortable and a little stretchy. It will do for the night. She takes great care to bandage her hands up to the elbow with the clean rolls Mhin provided as well.

She makes sure to drain the tub, and clean any traces of blood before she slowly walks back to the door. 

In the ungodly hours of the night, Mhin is waiting for her. Their head perks up upon hearing the doorknob turns, and Leere’s mouth gasps ever so slightly at the sight in front of her. 

While she was bathing, Mhin had changed clothes too. Her eyes trails down their naked torso, loosing hersef in their light muscle definition. A trail of white hairs descended under their navel and she blushed hard before looking up. Their expression was unreadable. They got up, closing in the distance between them. She has too look up when looking at them, but she doesn’t mind it one bit. Their hand find their way to her cheek, and she leans into their touch, humming, eyes still fixated on theirs.

“I.. “ They’re at loss for words, wondering what to say, how to act. Their confusion is obvious, a small blush spreading across their face as they turns around once more, comforting touch leaving her cheek, inviting her to sit on the edge of the bed. “We need to clean that wound.” 

Wordlessly nodding, she walks towards the bed, sitting and propping her injured leg next to her so that Mhin had easy access to it. 

Carefully, with the dexterity of a surgeon, they pull out a few bottles and cottons ready to their side. He dabs the dark brown liquid onto a clean cotton and starts cleaning up and disinfecting the wound. A small hiss escapes Leere’s lips. 

“I’m sorry.” They say. But there’s more to it, Leere can feel it. They’re not just apologizing for being a little rough with her leg. 

“You... it’s not your fault.” Leere coughs, voice trembling, still a little coarse after screaming her lungs out in the cathedral. 

“Hm.” Is all Mhin answers. after some time, they add, “I could have done something to prevent this.” And Leere isn’t sure if they’re talking about the incident or the whole ordeal, this time.

Mhin has finished cleaning up the cut, and is now bandaging her calf with a thick white cloth. 

“Done what ? Kept watch every night ?” She chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

They hums in approval again, face grave and somber. Leere realizes they are completely serious. Oh.

Awkwardness falls upon them again, the only sound heard being the still heavy rain rattling the roof and windows. By now, Mhin was stashing the bottles away, and sitting up, snuffs the candles out in the bathroom. They stops there, Halfway through the door. A hand on the wall, they were putting some weight on it as their body tilted slightly. In the moonlight, they looked ravishing. Their white hair was reflecting the light in wondrous manner, and their piercing eyes were looking at her. Only her. She gulped. 

After some time, They concluded. “I’ll go sleep downstairs-” But Leere cuts them off. 

“Stay.” She blurted out pleadingly. “Please, stay. With me.” She pats the bed slightly, inviting. 

Leere could see their internal turmoil. With some finality, Mhin closes the door leading to the stairs, and steps towards her. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Leere is my Original character. Sadira belongs to one of my best friends and is featured in this fic with their permission.

This fic is crossposted on Ao3

I hope you guys are excited for a slow burn between two emotionally constipated pals. Wish them good luck, because they'll need it.

[bitter-limelight]

You’re just right on top of right on top of right. Women in VC fandom (like many fandoms) gravitate to “petite” guys (no matter how canon describes them, they’ll fanon whoever’s shortest down to petite) they can girlcode so they can simultaneously avoid Scary Men and exert their basic hetero-porn sex fantasies against a character who functions in their minds eye as a socially stereotypical woman without being accused of being straight or engaging in straight content because they hid it in MLM media. Lmao who reads fairy smut, basic bitches that’s who. *They* read sophisticated gay vampire sex.

The non-“petite” characters get to take various Ken Doll roles adjacent to the girlified (self-insert) fandom fav. Also the Taylor Swift villain comparison is hilarious.

I call it like I see it

And I'm gonna give the * again that like. I'm not here promoting gender rolls. I'm not standing here as a queer man saying guys can't cross dress or be femme. I'm a Twink. My boyfriend does drag. I write ABO, I love Dom/sub power dynamics, I LIVE Dom/sub power dynamics. But some parts of fandom are still stuck on a yaoi message board from 2005. Like you said, look at the small character. Look at how Armand is described in canon and then how fandom wants him. He's not strong, stocky and average height for a guy his era, he's a dainty petite waify flower. He's drawn to look like a girl. Not girlish, but a girl. Most of the sexy fan art of guys has to be crossdressed, in stockings, braletts,. Even in posts about how men should wear short shorts (they should!) The example image has to be a woman in shorts because idk muscly hairy bear legs are gross?

"I'm a man and you deny it!" Yes they do.

Look at all the awful things he and Louis have done, the awful things Lestat has done, then look at all the awful things Marius and David have done. Now look at how fandom treats them. The ones who are easier to write as placeholders for women and feminize get a free pass and trussed up as the ever lasting uke kawaii desu des victims while the men are evil.

Edit - also to be clear again I'm not against women in MLM fandoms. I'm not against women writing gay erotica or gay romance. But as a gay man sometimes I'm just like.....men can be men you know that right? Queer men act like and are attracted to men. Yes sometimes that means vering very femme and gender bending but that also sometimes means being masculine, muscular, hairy, dominant, and other sticky yucky things

[slytherinsomniari]

Masterlist

AO3: here

Twitter: here

Hogwarts Legacy

Ominis Gaunt

A Seated Surprise (Slight Smut/Fluff) (my first fic, be nice!)

Victor Rookwood

Deal With the Devil (Smut)

Aesop Sharp

A Breaking Point Like No Other (Smut)

Of Parchment and Desires (Smut)

Sebastian Sallow

A Twisted Kind of Love Part One (Smut w/ Victor Rookwood x reader end)

A Twisted Kind of Love Part Two + Epilogue

A Twisted Kind of Love Alternate Ending

San Bakar

The Beastmaster’s Secret (Smut) Hogwarts Legacy MCs

Sophronia de Vere: Intro, ID

Eleanor Knightley: Intro, ID

Oleana: Intro, ID

Vincent Rosier: Intro, ID

Verity Wainwright: Intro, ID

Finnian Langley: Intro, ID

Rosalia Blackwood: Intro, ID

[devicam]

Recently started playing a new game and so far I haven’t seen much for all the characters or I’m not searching hard enough.

(Be aware that the game hasn’t be released yet, I have played the Demo I know what I’m doing…maybe…)

If anyone wants to request something or wants to have something of these characters specifically written, message me!!

What I will write:

- Fluff

Anything sweet and/or calm, I adore head cannons about characters and getting to write them in a domestic matter.

- Angst

I am a sucker for angst, anything to make you cry your heart out or even get mad at I will write! Warning I might not finish it myself cause I will be crying or pissed off.

- Smut

I have a few rules for smut, I don’t tend to write sexual things but I will make an exception!! I will however not write anything that has to do with:

Non-con

Accidental pregnancy

Water sports

Or Age play.

Thank you very much.

The character I will write for are, well all of them:

- Kuras

- Ais

- Mhin

- Leander

- Vere

If you all are comfortable with that then sit down and prepare yourself for the most shitty fanfics I’ve every created because hell knows my grammar sucks ass. 💀