#worse they explored each other souls

[cocoetoile]

heinrix telling diana to look him in the eyes whenever they’re having sex so he can look at literal fire burning in there

[rosea-tangible]

please remember that 2024 was an exceptionally depressing year

[dadsbongos]

local adventurers get body swapped and fuck sloppy style

2.5 K words / warnings - unprotected pinv sex, fem body for reader, oral (m+f receiving), slight choking, pwp, not super proofread

summary - something something marcille and senshi need medicinal herbs… its not important. you and chilchuck and laios get it on in each other's bodies

~~~

“Laios, I don’t know if you should touch those…”

“He definitely shouldn’t!”

Laios touches the vibrant orange flower petals, grazing his fingertips from the outer curl towards the neon yellow stigma, “I think if I press right here, then…”

“Laios!” Chilchuck shrieks at the same time you gasp, “No!”

A yellow powder spews from the now gaping stigma, clogging Laios’ entire head. In your shared panic to rescue the man, you and Chilchuck also inhale traces of the pollen. It tastes unexpectedly sweet, like ripe apples fresh from their tree -- it’s also incredibly disorienting. Head spinning and throat tight, you’re forced to clench your eyes while stumbling for either of the familiar bodies you’d arrived with.

You find one -- cold metal flattening your palm, though it’s strange -- what you’re touching is only the waist of Laios’ cuirass, but you’re reaching up. Your fingers just barely graze the lip of his arm opening.

Certain you’re not kneeling, and now uncertain that you’re sane, you open your eyes to gaze into the beaming reflection of… yourself. But this version of you has her hands skimming down her sides, nails biting the pouch over your tummy.

Glancing up, you find brown fingerless gloves covering your hand. You also find that you have to really stretch your neck to look up at Laios, who is staring down at you with a disturbed flinch.

“Laios?”

It's your own voice that heeds, “Yeah?”

Slowly, you swing your(?) head to face yourself, eyes wide, “Laios?”

“Yeah?”

With an uncertain, shivery hand, you point up at the armored blonde, “Chilchuck…?”

Laios’ voice whispers back your name before gently pleading, “Get out of my body…”

“I don’t know how!” you wail, tugging on brown hair just to feel the sting that confirms this isn’t some horrible nightmare, “Laios, what’d you do?!”

“If you squeeze this flower right, then it goes into self-defense mode and releases a pollen-like substance that switches people’s souls and bodies. Pretty neat, right?” his excitement with the flower is interrupted by a more carnal curiosity, “Can I feel?” he hovers your own hands over your chest and makes a squeezing motion, “I wonder if they’re as squishy as they look?”

“Sure…”

“Yay,” he murmurs, immediately latching to your chest, “Your breasts are so soft, and warm.”

“Thanks,” your naturally gentle tonation sounds odd, dissonant with Chilchuck’s agitated and shrill voice.

“Don’t let him fondle you!” Chilchuck, bizarrely, sounds natural in Laios’ body. Loud and resolute, “That’s so inappropriate!”

“I don’t mind, Chilchuck, really.”

“And don’t say my name with my own voice!”

“Sorry…”

“I wonder how you feel inside.”

Disturbed, you and Chilchuck’s heads turn toward where Laios continues to grope your (his?) chest -- his breaths shortening to gasps and lip sucked between his teeth.

“What’d you just say?” Chilchuck points a shaky finger at Laios.

If Laios finds looking himself in the face strange, he makes no indication. Merely beaming at Chilchuck in his body and shrugging while squeezing your boobs, “Isn’t it so cool that just pollen can swap us so perfectly? Why wouldn’t we try to explore each other��s bodies in a situation like this?”

Chilchuck’s embarrassment makes Laios’ cheeks flare red hot, an annoyed huff spiking past his clenched teeth, “It’ll only make things worse for the party in the long run! Inter-party romance is a terrible idea!”

“It’s not romance, just investigation.”

Before a punch can be thrown from the flustered Chilchuck, you lay a lithe hand on either man’s shoulder (pushing into the back of your mind how strange it is to call a hand smaller than your own yours), “Laios, you have to see how strange that sounds to people not as… curious as you.”

“But I’ve always wanted to know how your bodies work,” Laios frowns, “I get that we’re all humans, so it's basically the same thing and not as interesting, but when it comes to you two I just can’t help it. I want to know how soft your mouths are and how your joints roll in action,” he then peers specifically at Chilchuck, batting your lashes pathetically, “Especially your body, Chil, since I rarely see you do more than deactivate traps.”

“That’s because that’s my job! I don’t fight!”

“Chilchuck, he’s not judging you,” you move the hand on his shoulder down to his hand, Laios’ large palm massively overwhelming Chilchuck’s -- you’re captivated by the difference, “If Laios had a problem with you not fighting, I’m sure you wouldn’t still be in the party.”

“I just want to know how you both feel,” you could cringe at the sound of your voice saying something so naughty, but for the sake of Laios’ feelings you don’t, “Inside and out.”

“Did you consider how that’d be for us? Having to look our own faces in their face during something like that.”

“Like what? I just want to poke,” Laios stretches your fingers with a wiggle, “Maybe some fingering.”

That’d be more believable if Laios wasn’t such a terrible liar, his tells making your back straightening impossibly and knees buckling. Laios starkly dodges both yours and Chilchuck’s scrutinizing stares.

“We know you better than that. You’ll wanna go all out,” despite your inclination to give Laios the benefit of doubt, you’re forced to nod alongside Chilchuck’s accusation.

“Is that so bad?”

Is it?

You’re not as anatomically intrigued as Laios (at least pretends to be), but you can’t lie to yourself and say the men aren’t attractive. Laios is beefy yet kind, piercing amber eyes and soft blonde hair -- his arms look perfect for holding you down as he impales you with his cock. Chilchuck is slight and nimble, big brown eyes with thick lashes and silver hairs sprinkled through brown locks -- his dominable frame would be easy to ride until he’s got tears in his eyes and pleas flowing from his fussy lips.

“I don’t think so,” you move, stepping over to Laios’ side, “I think it could be worth a try.”

“No way!” Chilchuck glares at you for your betrayal, “There is no chance I’d ever do something so depraved!”

.

.

.

“This is so weird…” Chilchuck whines from Laios’ throat, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sight before him.

You, in Chilchuck’s own body, knelt beside Laios occupying your body as you both lick over his flushed erection. Laios seems to show no shyness, eagerly teasing your soft lips across his skin until he’s tonguing the underside. Meanwhile, you’ve got the smoldering head twitching on your tongue -- suckling softly before releasing your lips with a pop and laving the side with attention. Eventually, Laios bores of kitten licks and lowers towards the balls, giving you room to suck his penis into your mouth fully.

Chilchuck winds a hand, larger than he’s used to controlling, through your hair, peeking under his spare arm to watch Laios abuse your likeness. Blinking sweetly and humming while warming his own nuts with gurgled saliva. With advanced hearing, you can make out even the minute sound of Laios’ inferior gag reflex choking on his own balls.

You can also make out the deep rumble of Chilchuck panting and swallowing around his own arousal, lodged in his throat. Hoping to coax out the desire, you relax your gullet and bury your nose against flaxen pubes, making Chilchuck shudder and buck further into your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” he sighs, squeezing tighter around brown hair and shaking out your head before wrenching you back, “Wanna fuck your face.”

If you didn’t want him to as well, you’d be busy pointing out how your face is really his.

Instead, you moan eagerly and let your mouth hang open. Digging blunt nails into the handles on his hips for leverage as Chilchuck snaps into your gaping, velvety mouth. Spit gurgles past the rim of your lips, your sudden super hearing picking up every soft, throaty groan that spills from his chest. Despite his every effort to drown the sounds in kisses with Laios, you hear it -- you even hear how their lips mesh above your head.

Silky moans let out by your own voice, it’s startling. And arousing. Which makes it even more startling.

Chilchuck gasps and huffs abruptly, pulling you back to beat his cock against your puffy, raw lips. His whole body scrunches as broken, spotty moans dribble through him, shooting cum down your throat -- though having to bury his face into Laios’ neck (technically your neck) to avoid seeing his own face swallowing his seed.

With your own voice, heady and ragged with lust, Laios sprawls to the ground with spread legs, “I’m so hot,” he brainlessly bucks up against his roaming hand, eyes snapping to you, “How do you live like this?”

“I’m not horny all the time, Laios!”

Completely bypassing your protest, as per usual, Laios whimpers and undoes your trousers -- tickling a trembling finger down his (your) slit, “I need someone in me, please, please?”

You and Chilchuck stare at each other for a short while, silently debating who would be the one -- with newfound stamina in Laios’ body, Chilchuck could theoretically do it if he felt so greedy. Thankfully, he does not, and reclines beside Laios before pressing kisses into his neck while yanking you over by the belt. With eyes closed, he expertly undoes the pants to pull your brand new cock out.

Calloused, yet warm, hands stroke along your shaft in slow pumps before feeding your (his) tip into Laios.

Yours and Laios’ inexperience at the shared sensation is abundant in how you’re both gasping, sweat-slick messes. Laios wiggles further onto your cock, keening and back arching at the intrusion, while your hands are clammy and shaking on his hips. Your eyes can only stray as high as the breasts before things feel… weird… so you choose instead to obsess over the sight of your cock sliding in and out of a soaked cunt. Messy slick glinting in the sunlight, face melting with need, and all rational thought sucked into the tight clench of Laios.

Whining and leisurely thrusting into Laios, you close your eyes to fully absorb the sensations around you. Still, your heightened hearing can pick up the downright obscene gush of your sloppy, wet cunt being fucked open.

Chilchuck lays beside Laios, making you flinch at the unseen act of tracing his fingers around your cock in Laios to gather the splashing wetness before swirling the sodden pads into Laios’ clit.

“Ah!” your voice spikes, Laios grabbing Chilchuck’s wrist as if he could use your dwindling might to bat off his own strength. Chilchuck grins despite himself and continues abusing the bundle of nerves as desperation makes your drilling speed up. Laios wails and bunts eager hips to meet your thrusts, “Ah, ah, ah, ah- so good! This feels amazing!”

Laios presses the hand not clutching Chilchuck’s against your tummy, fingers prodding where cock batters his insides. Huffy little fuck, fuck, oh fucks leaving pouty, raw-bitten lips.

“Does it feel good?” Chilchuck laughs at you both, his sarcasm only being met with varied, broken ‘uh-huh’ responses. A thought brews in his following silence before he reaches up with a spare hand, “How about this, then?”

Suddenly, Laios’ large hand is wrapped around your neck, pressuring the sides to make your head spin.

Oh.

Oh that shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

Sudden restricted air pushes your hammering hips into overdrive, gut fizzling and tightening until you’re certain you’ll combust from the inside. You squeeze bruises into your own hips as you slam into Laios’ pliant body.

“Oh my God,” he suddenly wails from your mouth, “I think I’m- fuck! - am I?” his breath hitches, eyes wide and thighs cinching around your pumping hips, “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it, then,” Chilchuck snides with lips still pressed to Laios’ neck, rudely pinching his clit, “Cum for us.”

“I’m cumming,” he babbles, throwing his head back, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

Laios’ complete lack of will obliterates your own, the intense milking of his orgasm around you practically pulling cum from your cock. You gasp under Chilchuck’s choking while stuffing Laios full.

As soon as you’ve pulled Chilchuck’s softening cock out, Laios darts a hand down to finger your abused cunt. Puffy lips parting around curious fingers, thighs twitching at the unwelcomed overstimulation. Mixed cum leaks onto his digits before he accidentally brushes a thumb over his own clit, sending his thighs clenching around his hand as he forces another orgasm from your body.

You blink, suddenly much drowsier than before, and when you open your eyes you’re on the ground. With twitching, aching thighs and a hand between your legs.

Before you can acclimate to the realization you’re returned to your proper body, large hands are spreading your thighs again. Laios dives in, much too excited, and licks along your slit with a seedy groan and pinched brows. As if he’s deriving pure pleasure from sucking your combined release out of your pussy. If anything, the unadulterated oddity and grossness confirms that Laios is, in fact, back in his own body.

“I remember you were needing a little something, big guy,” Chilchuck tiredly slumps against Laios’ side, reaching below the belt to tug Laios’ hardening cock, “Guess you do have a lot of stamina.”

“I wanted to taste it on my fingers before we switched back, but now I can have it on my real tongue,” Laios deliriously giggles, “How lucky is that?”

You’re given no pause to respond before he’s returning to tongue-fucking your spasming hole.

Chilchuck presses lazy kissing along Laios’ flushed skin, jostled slightly when Laios abruptly sits straight, bucking his hips into Chilchuck’s fist as he asks, “Can I cum on you? I want to taste us all together. I need to know- !”

“Fine!” you’re borderline shrieking, sniveling and sobbing in the overstimulation, “Yes, yes, cum on my cunt, Laios. Do whatever you want!”

As if waiting permission, once those words are uttered, Laios spurts across your heated groin. He wastes no time basking in his euphoria before drunkenly lapping up his cum dribbling across your pussy and into yours and Chilchuck’s juices.

“Feral,” Chilchuck notes, smearing the excess sperm across Laios’ thigh and collapsing by your side.

Quicker and more violent than you’d like, another orgasm swells from your tummy to your hips. Thighs clapping against Laios’ ears as his tongue lulls out to sap up your cum. Your nails scrape Laios’ scalp as you wrangle him back when you notice him trying to sink in for more.

“Laios, please!” you tiredly protest.

“Off,” Chilchuck says it short and curt, like training a puppy, as he bats Laios’ head.

Laios lifts his head and drops beside you as well, turning onto his side to stare at you both -- hands curled towards his chest for comfort, “That was fun. We should do it again, but with our normal bodies.”

Unbeknownst to Laios, both you and Chilchuck are passed out and tangled around on another. And unknown to all three of you, Marcille and Senshi are coughing and hacking out a plan to crawl out and search for your group on the hunt for medicinal herbs.

[deesseshesca]

PAC : How can u express your affection to your partner while having sex ? (18+)

Oh...Today drain me...

Good evening pretty souls ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 17-18

You want to have a more detailed readings (for 2.22$), you can join my Chérie d'Amour (soul tribe)

SEX Doula =SALE READING

PILE 1 

Strenght (reverse), knight of wands (reverse),8 cups, 9 pentacles 

You guys are very photogenic. Your friends love taking pictures of you and may even do it without you knowing. Y’all are very aesthetically pleasing people. On the other hand, y’all can’t not take a good picture to save yourself. You are incapable of finding the angle or even placing the phone properly, worse than boomers for some. Which ends up pissing off your friends. Y’all are not tech savvy. We are lucky you even know how to use your phone. 

The way you show your affection is by having no control on the relationship. Wherever the flow brings y’all, you cool with it. You don’t care for labels and you are down for literally anything. Don’t care and you will never care for the title ‘’ relationship’’, you don’t mind being ‘’just friends’’ forever. You guys can move in together, fuck each other cuddle, go to hopsital appointment and share y’all deepest secret and even convince a kid with no title. You will not have shame or even be scared to explain your situation to people around you because you don’t mind how unorthodox it is. That being said for technicalities, you will allow your partner to explore sexual endeavors with other people. Even allowing them to hold their own independence meaning living in the same house but sleeping in different bedrooms. If y’all share an abundance with each other, you can share a mansion. Like the east side is yours and the south side is his/hers. You will show your affection by holding no taboo against them. They can possess any sex toys; they might  even introduce you to their sex dolls, if they feel like it. Y’all may not even have sex at all… some of y’all is giving lavender marriage. Maybee ? I don’t know ? I have no clear indication of such but the way I am writing it, it sure sounds like it. Another way to show your affection is by  accepting their belief, y’all may have different religion or practice. Lastly you may show your affection  by not expecting anything material from them  (which lowkey breaks one of the principles  of Lavender marriage …). You don’t expect a ring, a car, or even roses on valentine day’s. All things said , it is really a show of going with the flow. If they decide to do it, you don’t mind doing it too. If they dim all the little gestures unnecessary then so do you. Ultimately your ‘’ no pressure’’ attitude is going to be the best way you show affection to them which can simulate their sexual appetite. 

💌 : FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.

PILE 2 

Queen swords, 4 swords, 7 pentacles (reverse), 2 pentacles

Y’all are adopted. Y’all were in the system until 10 years old ( max ) then your life took another turn for the best. You always loved your adoptive family. They always welcomed you and poured into you. The whole family is always showering you with gifts, affection and support but you need an answer. You got them, you quickly realize that you dodge the bullet. Your biological family may be very abusive. 

The way you show your affection with your partner in a sexual setting starts with foreplay. You may indulge in giving your full attention to them. You are the perfect boyfriend/girlfriend for nerds. You will let them rant bout all the rules in the new fantasy world in which they are obese about while giving them the ‘’fuck me’’ eyes. You have beautiful brown eyes with stars in them when you are looking at something that you love. Sex apart, they love the way you look at them. You make them feel like the most loved human  being with only a look from you. The appreciation, tenderness, passion all of it in the iris of your eyes is making them love sick. Back to the sex, the way you listen and UNDERSTAND (at least try) make them feel fucking special. You even go as far as engaging in conversation with them which they looooove. Even when you are clumsy with the concept of a subject you don’t get mad when they correct you. Artists would be the perfect pair for you too. Not only are you the perfect muse (we are going to get into it later…) but you are a smart one. You don’t mind diving into the critics of philosopher, you don’t mind debating who is the best musician of the Renaissance, you don’t mind sitting down and letting your partner paint your back when they are overstimulated and you don’t mind listening to your partner singing for hours until they find perfect note. You have the patience of a God and that makes them want to give it all to you. Honestly you love discussing and especially debating because that’s why you turn on. So everything I listed is something they naturally do and everything is a way to get your panties wet/cock hard. Yes, paint on bareback and let your hand caress. Yes, sing to me how good I make you feel in between  the sheets. Yes, debate the principle of Aristotle  with me and show your passion. I love how you are trying to make your point while at the same focusing on my juicy lips.  Ok! Pile 2, your energy fully took over for a minute. Another way you show your affection is by making sure they reach their orgasm. It doesn't matter if they are tired after going hammers into you and making you cum at least 3 times.It doesn't matter if you are worn out. You need them to cum or you are dying … Ok a bit dramatic… (I feel like y’all are natural drama queen/king). You will give them a handjob  or you will rub their clit. You will do what is require for with the power still left in you to deliver your duty (Like I said fucking dramatic). Plus you will love to dive into the pleasure of a long intensive edging session, y’all can go for weeks edging. Playing with each other without actually reaching the sinful need of the body. Building the orgasm with each other and not cheating even when  you are really really really horny. Is almost a principle of respect for you. Lastly, you are acceptive of them in the bedroom. You don’t shame them for their kinks, you encourage them to go for it. You allow an open and affectionate communication for y’all to discuss y'all fantasy, kinks , experience, need, want, desire, etc… 

💌 : Also don't feel bad because you have leaned on your partner through out the whole quest to your roots adventure. While you were trying to puzzle the truth regarding your identity, your partner felt needed and not at all annoyed. So relief yourself from that guilt. They are fine. FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.

PILE 3 

9 wands (reverse), 2 cups, Knight wands, Tower (reverse) 

Y��all are going through it mentally. You are deep in a depression rut. Y’all are victime of sexual harassment and you are healing. Is not as bad as it was but you know… sometimes the voice gets loud all over again. I am sending all the love I can,your way. You and I know it is going to get better and that the worse will pass. You just need to hang in there until you find the pace and you power back again. You knew your ex before y’all became a couple. He was a good friend when the accident happened and he came back into your life. He did not mean to leave you, you know we get busy with life and distance gets created.  Naturally the Divine opens a path for you to welcome them back into your life. Then you open up and it was good and got very bad again. So you decide to cut the relationship so you can heal some more without being a burden. They are going insane Pile 3. Don’t get me wrong, they are respecting your choice. But I have the vision of someone tearing up while doing their homework. Everytime they get back into their apartment at the end of the day, they literally get in a fetus position for a good 5 minutes reminiscing about you. They pray often which is ironic since they never believe in God or anything like that. Begging them to give them your pain and leaving you alone. That you suffer enough. The tears also are not something they do. Is not that they are emotionally available, they are just very masculine . 

This section of the reading is from their POV . 

They love making love to you. They love caressing you. They love your cellulite. They love your small boobs, they love your stomach, they love your thick tights ( I’m so sorry but I need to say that I am fucking rooting for them. Out here pushing through the tears to deliver the message. Ironic, I rarely get REALLY emotional. If only you could feel what I am feeling …) and they love your hair  (another message came through, One of your ex told you he hurted you because you were ugly and that he cheated because he loved blond … your man (I know y’all are not together but I am FUCKING rooting fo them) is screaming : I LOVE YOUR BROWN HAIR !). They kissed every part of you because they wished to make all the bad memories go away. They wish they could erase any trace of your abuser away. Is not about lust, it is all about the true passion that goes straight to their dick when they see you. Is not about owning you or winning you over. Is about protecting you and giving you the love you always deserve. They love having sex with you. When y’all were together, you could not keep y’all hands off each other. In a fucked up way you brain twisted that damm information (swear I am not mad at your brain, she is a victim too. So she is doing anything in her power to protect herself) making you feel that they only want you because of sex. Because that’s all a man can ever want from you. That’s all you are good for. You are undeserving of love because you are broken good ( Yes… Is me … again … YOU ARE NOT FUCKING BROKEN GOOD ! YOU HEARD ME ! You better tell your brain to get her shit together real quick. Is going to take time but let’s start by dropping the concept that you are damaged goods. I don’t want you to EVER think that.) The reality is they love you so much they can’t resist you. The mere fact that they can indulge in your affection is their biggest blessing. They are so grateful (Going back to their prayers, they are grateful that the Divine kept you alive and safe until you came back to them) that they get to share intimate moments with you. That you even let them see you in that seductive light. There’s nothing you can, God can do, I can do that's going to stop them from going back to you. There’s nothing that happens to you no matter how bad it is, that’s going to disgust them . There's nothing you can do that’s going to make them run away. Ever since you came back into their life, the flowers bloom, the sun shines and the birds chip. You brought the color back into their life. You brought joy to the mundane. Sex with you is an explosion of good feelings, fireworks even. They love sliding into you, seeing your face twisting in pleasure not in pain. A pleasure they are giving you and a pain they are protecting you from, safe in his presence . They often push you to keep your eyes focused on them because they want you to see you are safe. You are loved and you choose a good one proving you it was never your fault. Nothing you could have done was worth that punishment. 

***BONUS***

How can you cope with your sexual wound ? 

Spirit has an extra message dedicated to you. 

The ultimate problem of this relationship is the perception of yourself. Before we get any further, I am not here to hurt you (Trust me, I understand you more than you think). You need to contextualize what happened to you. Maybe you are not ready to get help, maybe you are not ready to talk about… fuck maybe you just not ready to deal with it but you need to realize that he is not him. I understand that your brain wants to protect you from all the ‘’him’’. Maybe repeat to yourself out loud, ‘’ (His name) is not my enemy. He is my true lover’’ everyday while you're taking a shower. When  you are caressing your body with soap, remind her, she is ok with (his name). Is important that you precise the name for your body to understand that only him at least with him everything is alright. You need to find a way to make your brain and body understand that he is your protector and lover. Because your soul knows he is home. You may not know about the rest and you got hurt by the rest but him… never him … he is all love. I know you are suffering but keeping him away is killing y'all more than you think. I am not telling you to break your boundaries or get back with him, now. You can shoot him a text. Small text here and there, telling him, you are ok , you ate. It can even be random as you telling him you are watching your favorite TV show. Let your brain get used to craving intimacy at a healthy pace.  Plus it will greatly ease his mind. Please stop dissociating while you are having sex (Bestie speaking from experience, don’t do it because it can become a habit … when that happens … you will try anything to go back to feeling something …), if you feel like you can’t do it, express it. I don’t care if you are in the middle of an act. I don’t care if you feel horny but you got triggered. I DON’T CARE … take a break, regulate your nervous system and come back. Last let yourself heal, there’s no race when it come to this fuck up mess. Stop comparing yourself to your past and let yourself discover the new you, who survive one of the most terrorizing situations. Much love Chérie d’Amour, you got this and I DO … love you. 

💌 : FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.

[hiddensideoflife]

Unfinished Business: The planet with the highest degree in our chart is often the planet we have some unfinished business with.  There will be some sort of soul level need to fulfill this contract, for better or worse. Here is the goal for each of the planets:

Sun: In this life it is about finding a platform, success or fame. But the goal if the Sun is your highest degree planet is to do this without ego.

Moon: Finding happiness and building emotional stability within oneself. Learning to love selflessly

Venus: Finding love in all things, but learning to be balanced and not obsessive or possessive

Mercury: Using your intellect and communication skills to help others. Learning to share without deception or malice.

Mars: Following the law and learning to defend those who cannot defend themselves. Mastery over channeling anger towards the highest good for all

Jupiter: Exploring the meaning of the divine through human nature and religion/spirituality.  Learning through family (spouse, and children) as well as teachers or mentors without expecting something in return.

Saturn: Being disciplined and to face the reality of existence as opposed to dwelling in an ideal or dream world. Learning to embrace solitude.

Rahu: (debatable if this is counted)- Learning to go after goals and desires in a balanced way. Learn to be present and not obsessive and worried about the house Rahu is placed in.

Namaste...

[vampiresfromxenon]

Kiss It Better

Astarion x gender neutral! Reader/Tav

Around 2.2K words 

Tags: Fluff, kissing, blood, soft!(ish?) Astarion, hurt/comfort, angst, 3rd person, no use of y/n

CW: Blood, deep wound on hand, existential thoughts (?)

Summary: After accidentally cutting your hand on your blade, Astarion is the only one in the camp to help you deal with it. You’ve been seeing him for awhile now, but this is the first time you’ve ever seen him actually care. Perhaps he does feel the same way about you…

~

With the daylight fading, you rest just outside your tent, wiping the blood off of your blade with a damp rag. As you sit there, shining it to perfection, you can’t help but analyze your reflection, thinking about the events that led you to having newer, fresher scars on your face. It’s been a few months since the start of this nightmare, since the start of having these things inside your head. The tadpoles weren't that bad to deal with, but your feelings were worse. 

You’ve grown to love all the companions you’ve met along the way, laughing and enjoying their company as you travel across the land, searching for answers, for a cure. You all keep each other safe in one way or another, and while you hate to get too attached, knowing this won’t last forever, you feel as though you found your family, especially since you can’t remember your real one. God, your real family. One you once knew but now have no memory of. Your past is a mystery, and it haunts you, much more than the gnawing idea that you could become a mind flayer at any waking moment. 

You want to remember. Oh, so desperately do you want to remember, but you can’t. That is not an option for you. And besides? What good would that do you now? You can only confront the horrors that lie before you. The thought of losing your friends, the thought of losing yourself. The thought of losing… No. You can’t bear the thought of losing him.

You find your heart sinking in your chest at the thought of him turning into a mind flayer. Your chest aches at the thought of where you promised you’d stab him if, Gods forbid, he turns. Looking into his eyes and seeing nothing, no life, no character, but a vessel. A vessel for these wretched things. It was becoming too much to handle. Your body begins to tremble from these false images enveloping your thoughts, these twisted and sickly ideas corrupting your mind for far too long. You’re so distracted by these terrors that you fail to notice the fact that you started to scrub the blade harder, or even more pressing, the fact that you dropped the rag. 

In one swift movement, your palm forcibly glides across the blade, drawing both blood from your palm and a string of curses from your mouth. The images disappear, fleeing your mind as you pick up the rag and crush it into the palm of your hand to stop the bleeding. The blade was no longer important in this moment, tossed off to the side for later. You storm into your tent, clutching your hand, searching for any sort of healing potion or power that you could find. Shadowheart and the rest of the camp had left to explore the town for the night, leaving you all to your lonesome, or so you thought. 

You sit on a cushion, exasperated and upset with yourself and your doomed existence. Removing the cloth, you take a closer look to see just how bad the wound is, trying to ignore the stinging feeling. Distracted by the blood, you fail to hear a visitor’s light footsteps approaching. 

“Oh dear, what happened to you?” A charming voice rings out. 

You turn to see a pale, slender elf standing in the opening of your tent, his white hair perfectly styled as always, his piercing red eyes invading your soul. Shoving the rag back into your burning palm, you attempt to hide your mistake, though you know he smells the blood from miles away. 

“I had a moment of clumsiness, nothing more.” You stated in a nonchalant tone, attempting to downplay your embarrassment. 

You turn your hand away from him, your eyes drifting around your tent, avoiding his gaze. He slowly approaches you, kneeling down on the cushion you are sitting on. He moves his head to meet your gaze, not wasting a second of eye-contact. 

“Mind if I take a look, darling?” He purrs, asking more nicely than usual. 

Your heart begins to race as he leans over you a little, prying into your personal space. If it were anyone else, you would push them away, but he invited himself in so much that you couldn’t help but miss it when he left. However, in this moment you did not want to feel this vulnerable, this embarrassed at your mistake; you couldn’t help but push him away just a little. After all, he is not known for having the best 'bedside manner’, if any at all. Meeting his eyes, you give him a knowing look.

“I’ll be alright on my own, thank you, Astarion. Besides, I thought you went into town with the rest of the camp?” You inquire, suddenly aware of just how much your feelings of being alone may have been an illusion. 

“I had no need to go, and honestly I couldn’t take any more of Gale’s whining about ‘needing to eat magical artifacts’. I know everyone complains about my diet, but let’s be realistic here for just a moment…” He looks away smirking, proud of his own snarky comment. Turning back to you, there is suddenly a shift in tone on his face. While he still has his typical look, one that is oozing with flirtatious energy, he looks a bit more serious, concerned even. You’ve never seen this side of him before, and it shocked you considering just how insignificant he’d find a wound like this normally. 

“Let me see it, please.” His voice was low, softer than usual, but commanding. One of his hands reaches across you, his hand ghosting over yours. You can’t help but lift your bloody hand so his palm touches the back of your hand. Never breaking eye-contact, he pulls your hand closer to him, gently pulling the rag from your white knuckles. Looking down, he notices just how bad the cut is, taking up most of your palm. 

“Oh, my dear… How did you do this?” His voice is more concerned now, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your wrist. His eyes soften, and you can’t help but think back to what put you in this mess to begin with. Your body trembles once more, eyes breaking his gaze as you stare down at your hand. 

“My hand slipped while cleaning my blade. It’s alright, I just need to wait for Shadowheart to come back…” You trail off. 

“Why wait for Shadowheart? I can make you feel better, you know…” His free, slender hand reaches down and grabs your chin, gently raising your head to face his again. You blush from his touch, his willingness to command your body. Your mouth falls open a little, unsure of what to say or how to respond to such a comment from him. You were used to his flirting, but this unlocked a whole new feeling in you. He could sense your speechlessness, and so he did the one thing he knew how to do best: make you even more flustered. 

“Would you like me to kiss it better?” He asks in his normal, teasing tone. This offering catches you off guard, breaking your immersion in this intimate moment. You can’t help but laugh, thinking now that he was only just charming you like he does everyone else. Continuing to laugh, you call him out. 

“Very funny, Astarion. Hilarious. Need I remind you of when I was opening up to you not that long ago and you said almost the exact same thing? Seems to me you’re running out of tactics here.” You roll your eyes, not amused by his antics.

You feel his grip tighten on your bleeding hand, pulling it closer to him. Looking to see what he is doing, you connect with his eyes one more time, seeing an almost predatory look. You stop laughing, your face heating up once again, your heart pounding as his soft lips connect with your wounded palm. It still stings, and you wince a little at the contact, but you can’t seem to look or pull away from him. He kisses all along your palm, and you can feel him gently sucking at the blood. Not only was he kissing you better, but he was feeding on you. 

If you weren’t so attracted to him, you’d be much more upset. Instead, you sit on this cushion while the vampire of your desires kneels before you, kissing and sucking at your wounded palm. You can feel his tongue lapping at your skin, his fangs ever so slightly poking out from behind his lips. Yes, he was feeding, but was he… actually kissing you too? His hands continue to massage the back of your hand and your wrist, trying to provide you comfort without completely invading your space. Eventually he stops, planting a final kiss on your wrist, his mouth covered in blood. He licks his lips, and you can’t help but tremble now but for a whole new reason. 

“Better?” He asks, smiling enough to show his fangs this time. 

“You just wanted an excuse to suck at my hand, didn’t you?” You raise an eyebrow, an attempt to see through him.

“I am always looking for any excuse to suck at any part of you, my sweet.” His voice is low once more, a rumbling laugh escaping his lips.

He finds a section of the rag not absolutely soaked in blood and pushes it back into your, now much cleaner, palm. Your whole face is flushed now, unable to think of any more witty remarks or comebacks. For the second time in just a few small minutes, he found yet another way to leave you completely speechless. The sly vampire decides to take advantage of your silence once more. 

Letting go of your hand, he leans forward, his lips connecting with yours. It’s soft, gentle, and new. To be fair, while you have spent a few intimate nights together, this moment here alone feels so much more real, so much more genuine. Almost as if he was kissing you… because he wanted to. A real, genuine want. His hand caresses the side of your face, his other landing on the small of your back as he continues to kiss you. Without hesitation, you lean into the kiss, your body elated by his touch. It’s not long before he deepens the kiss, his tongue parting your lips, wanting more from you. 

He tastes of iron, what more could you expect, but for once you don’t hate the taste. You invite it more into your mouth as he continues to lean even further over you. He begins to push you back, your body relaxing into the cushion. He breaks from the kiss, planting small kisses on your face, trailing them down your jaw and to the side of your neck. You can’t help but close your eyes, softly sighing as he kisses at your skin, sucking softly, his fangs once again poking you. He had been feeding off you almost every night now for weeks while you were dead asleep, and while it was unusual for you two, it was so much more enjoyable to experience it this way. He lifts his head, meeting your eyes as a way of warning you he was about to bite. He opens his mouth, his fangs protruding, ready for the taste of your flesh and blood. 

“Helloooo? Astarion? Tav? We’ve got some goods!” Yells out Karlach, just a few meters away from your tent.

Shit. He sits up, kneeling over you, looking dissatisfied. You sigh and throw your head back into the cushion, frustrated. His cool hand caresses your cheek before tracing down your arm. He leans in close to your face one last time, his breath warming your skin. 

“Shall we finish this later tonight, my love?” He purrs, not even remotely finished with you.

You nod, still unable to speak from the last few eventful minutes. He kisses your cheek before standing. “Find me in the woods at our little spot, just after everyone has gone to bed. Don’t keep me waiting.” He flashes one last cheeky smirk before exiting your tent. 

“Hello, Karlach. Gale find any boots to devour today?” He quips, and you can’t help but laugh when Gale offendly responds.

The camp erupts in conversation, and you find yourself leaving your tent after a few minutes to track down Shadowheart. She heals you in her tent, though she has quite a few questions. Giving vague enough responses, she accepts them and lets you be on your way, but she’ll definitely be curious about it for a while. 

No matter, the only thought you could think of now was what Astarion had planned for both of you tonight; you knew exactly what was going to happen, but there was this whole new sense of excitement now that you could tell there was something deeper, real, and authentic going on between you two. You lie there in your tent, waiting for the snoring and sleep talking to begin to resonate throughout the camp, eager to scamper off into the wilderness with the elf you adore.  

-

Author's Note:

Hello! I haven't written any fan fiction in a loooooong time, and none of it was ever good to begin with- I've been struggling with writer's block for awhile now, and this was the first thing to break me out of it... lmao. I am very new to BG3 in general honestly, and I just barely started act 2. Please no spoilers, but also if Astarion is sorta OOC, I hope that explains why too :)

I've only had Astarion for what, two, three weeks now, and this man is just so whewww. I thought of this fic idea right as soon as I started a longer drive, and I started recording my thoughts on video so that way I wouldn't forget anything before I could start writing hahaha- I blushed so hard writing this, hope y'all feel the same

Hope you enjoy!

[stayevildarling]

May I please request Agatha x reader where reader has such bad anxiety that they often don't leave the house because of it. Reader thinks Agatha deserves someone better, but she comforts reader?

Agatha Harkness x Reader- Tangled in fear, wrapped in magic

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. I‘m a whore for mental health fics like these so. Also this is my first time writing Agatha so please be kind to me😅🫶🏼

tags/tw: established relationship, female reader, mention of anxiety, mention of depression, mention of panic attacks, mention of agoraphobia

word count: 3.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples , @stepintomyworld

When the days began blurring together you knew it was back. The endless nights, days filled with fear and your mind clouded with thoughts. The sadness and fear followed you like a cloud of rain, droplets running down your brain, leaving an emptiness that you couldn‘t shake or fight on your own. It had been bad before, years ago when it all began one afternoon, your chest tightening, your hands and knees shaky and the ability to breathe suddenly leaving you.

Back then it took months of therapy and medication to get over this, to work through the anxiety and depression that followed afterwards, leaving you drained and exhausted. And you had been happy since, enjoying your life and the things you adored, even meeting your perfect and beautiful girlfriend in the process, having been beside her for months, the two of you completing each other perfectly. The two of you had met when you followed your passions and despite the very obvious attraction, the brunette wrapping you around her finger perfectly and capturing your heart.

Life with Aggy was perfect, she spoiled you, reading every wish from your lips, showing you sides to yourself that you had never explored before. Making your body and soul feel cared for and nurtured at all times. Nothing was ever too much for the witch, whether it was spoiling you, taking you on dates or cracking silly jokes to make you laugh. And in return you would give her your world, trusting the older woman with your entire life, letting her guide you in every way. It all started a few weeks ago when she had taken you to lunch on a weekend, excited to try a new place with you that had been hyped for the longest time. You sat opposite each other, her hands always lingering somewhere on you, the two of you chatting and catching up from each other‘s week when it happened.

Your body froze, the entire restaurant spinning for a moment and your head telling you „you are going to pass out“. And that triggered it all, the shaking of your hands, your heart always beating out of your chest and the fear following you everywhere. You never told Agatha, knowing she was way too busy with her life and magic, knowing she had other things to worry about and not wanting to burden her with something this ridiculous. Things turned worse when fear took over your entire being, first the driving- a panic attack after another and making the whole thing impossible. Then simple things like leaving the house or going for a walk and then even moving inside your own shared home with Agatha felt impossible. The fear of going to the bathroom, taking a shower or even to leave the safety of bed, at this point your only safe space, and go to the living room or kitchen.

Fear lingered and followed you everywhere and despite remembering your tools, remembering that this had happened before and passed eventually, you couldn‘t do this again, knowing the mountain of work that was about to follow to work through this and stop the fear. Your health anxiety began coming back, scared to eat certain foods and worried about food poisoning, scared when you felt a small headache or your tummy was upset for a day. Everything scared you, breathing, talking and existing and when that realization hit you, you knew you were lost in the darkness again. It began with not eating much, too scared to even enter the kitchen, forcing yourself to eat with Agatha in the evenings or on the weekends but never feeling truly calm. Accepting Aggys offers about joined baths gladly as the thought of doing it alone scared you.

Of course your girlfriend had noticed, the change of seasons also brought her a different version of you, one that she hadn‘t met before. The rain seems to patter against the windows of your shared apartment for days on end, matching your inner turmoil. She noticed how you were suddenly more quiet, the smile never quite reaching your eyes anymore, often noticing your legs bouncing up and down during meals, the fidgeting which she had never noticed before. And of coure she noticed the tossing and turning at night, having tried countless times to soothe you back to sleep but without success. She had tried a few times to talk to you, offer her support but you couldn‘t confide in her, feeling like a burden.

Your girlfriend noticed how you didn‘t leave the house anymore. You didn‘t work, Agatha prefering to do that part and giving you the freedom you deserved. But you used to go out, to the libraries, your favorite flower shops and cafes, walks by the lake. You would do the grocery shopping mostly, making sure there is a warm meal waiting for her when she would return home. But lately there had been a lot of takeout meals, the fridge empty and when she mentioned it, you ended up ordering groceries, her finding the receipt a few days later. But she couldn‘t connect the pieces yet, not understanding the depths of your pain and fear, assuming at first that maybe you had been tired, possibly a little depressed.

Agatha didn‘t know about the darkness that eloped you, the reoccurring and daily fear, as soon as you would open your eyes and never ending through the silence of the night. It had gotten that bad that you wanted it all to stop, feeling like you aren‘t in control of your body or mind, at times feeling like you are going crazy and this never ending cycle of doom would follow you for all eternity. If it wasn‘t for the love you feel for her, you would have stopped it already, letting go off everything but even the thought of leaving her like that, left a guilt that hurt way worse than what you had been fighting in silence for weeks now. You wanted to explain so badly, wanting her to hold you but the insecurities and nasty thoughts kept you from doing so.

Today had been another slow day spent at home, you sit on the couch again, legs tucked beneath you as you half- heartedly flip through the pages of a book. It wasn‘t that you aren‘t interested in the story, you just couldn‘t focus. The soft patting of rain against the window feels way too loud, your breathing uneaven and your thoughts so loud they crash over you like waves. Every sound from the outside world, an occasional car zooming past, the faint barking of a dog or sirens, another reminder of the scary world outside that was slowly beginning to slip away from you.

Your mind travels to the only bright spot in your life, the woman filling your heart with joy rather than fear and emptiness. But even she had become a source of guilt, you had been avoiding her without ever meaning to, slowly withdrawing from her too, making excuses to stay home when she invited you out, retreating into yourself when she tried to have a conversation with you. She deserved better. Your chest tightens at the thought, Agatha with her charm and wit, her strength and confidence, her powers. What could she possibly still see in you? When the world out there was filled with way more interesting people, witches, people with their lifes together rather than being scared to go out their own front door. She was wasting her time with you, all the effort that she was giving you and not getting an ounce what she deserved in return. You had hoped lately that she would just walk away, take the last piece of will and guilt away and giving you the permission to give into the darkness.

When the front door to your apartment opens softly, your thoughts stop for a moment as you instinctively pull the blanket a little closer to your shivering form. She doesn‘t announce herself, doesn‘t make a show of her return the way she usually would. She never would when you are like this, not wanting to overwhelm you further. Instead , she moves quietly through the room, setting down her bag and slipping off her jacket before glancing at you. „Hi darling“ she greets you softly with a warm smile, trying to keep her concern hidden.

You force a small smile, barely glancing up from your book „Hey“. She pauses as she thinks back to the times you would practically jump into her arms, calling and messaging her on her way home out of excitement and missing her and despite knowing you are struggling with something, it fills her heart with sadness. She pauses, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before moving towards the kitchen. „I picked us up something for dinner“ she calls over her shoulder, her tone light and casual, like she wasn‘t trying to probe too much. „Figured we could have a quiet night in“ she offers and you sigh in relief ever so quietly, relieved she isn‘t offering to go somewhere and you having to think of another pathetic excuse. „Sounds good“ is all you manage to reply.

Agatha didn‘t push you, she never did and that almost made the whole thing worse. You knew she could tell something was wrong. But yet she gave you time and space, allowing you to retreat into yourself without demanding answers. It was both a blessing and a curse, because it filled you with relief but at the same time left you alone with your thoughts that hadn‘t been kind lately. You hear her moving around in the kitchen, the clatter of plates and cutlery. Normally, you would join her, help out and crack a few jokes, asking about her day but today you just can‘t, feeling on the verge of tears since she stepped inside your shared home.

Minutes pass in silence and you try and focus on your book again, the only sounds coming from the kitchen but you can‘t, the words bluring together, the weight of your thoughts and anxiety growing heavier by the second. Agatha returns, wiping her hands on a towel as she leans against the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression. You glance at her briefly and take in her features, the slightly curled hair, her outfit plastered in different shades of purple and suddenly your heart swells, missing her arms around you, her soft kisses all over your body and the feeling of safety. „Hows the book?“ she asks, pulling you out of your thoughts momentarily.

„It‘s fine“ you confess, hoping she wasn‘t gonna ask about the plot as you didn‘t remember a single thing from it. She doesn‘t say anything, simply watching you in that way that makes you feel like she could see right through the walls that you had been trying to build. „Do you want to talk about anything?“ she asks, breaking the silence, her voice soft, almost like she wasn‘t sure if now was the right time to ask. Your stomach instantly twists at the thought of trying to explain the mess inside your head and so you shake your head „I‘m fine“ you say quietly, though even you couldn‘t believe the words coming from your mouth.

She doesn’t push, simply nodding before she turns on her heels, offering a quiet „Alright, I‘m here though“ and leaving back to the kitchen. When she calls out for you a few minutes later for dinner, you can feel the tension building in your chest again, your head feeling fuzzy and your legs barely taking you to the table where she is patiently waiting for you. She looks at you with so much love as she begins eating, so much patience that your heart hurts, you want to tell her so badly, feeling like you owe her some answers, to let her in and show her how terrified you are but the words won‘t come, staying locked inside, trapped behind the anxiety that grips you so tightly.

The brunette watches you carefully as you push your food around with your fork, noticing how you hadn‘t taken a bite yet, her eyes search your face and you can feel the concern radiate from her, even if she was trying to hide it for your sake. „You‘re not eating sweetheart“ she say softly, her tone non-judgmental. You force a small smile, hoping it would be enough to brush off her concern. „I‘m just not that hungry“ you explain. She doesn‘t respond right away, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she finally speaks, her voice quieter now. „You have been like this for a while love, haven‘t you?“ she tries, tilting her head in order to lock eyes with you.

Your heart skips a beat, your stomach twisting painfully, unsure how to answer, knowing she deserved the truth. „I‘m fine“ you repeat, though your voice begins to shake, barely able to hide the tears and the knot in your throat. Agatha sighs softly, setting her fork down and leaning forward slightly. „You don‘t have to be fine with me“ she says gently, her eyes softening. „I don‘t need you to pretend with me“. And that was it, the gentlness in her voice, the concern in her beautiful eyes, enough to cause your fork to fall onto your plate and the tears spilling down your eyes as you catch your head in your hands, the sobs wrecking through you as you can‘t hide them for a second longer.

„Oh darling“ she sigh, in an instand abandoning her food and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you before pulling your frame into her arms. Her world breaks for a moment, seeing you so sad and feeling so helpless at the same time. The usual confident and witty woman knew that not even her magic could fix this but yet she feels some relief, hoping you will finally share what has been burdening you for weeks. „It‘s okay, I‘m here“ she reassures, one hand on your knee, stroking little circles and another on your back, holding you steady and making you feel safe. She lets you cry until the last sob wrecks through your body and when your tear stained, helpless face meets hers, she offers a hand to you, guiding you to the comfort of the sofa before sitting you down and taking a seat beside you.

Agatha gives you patience, sitting beside you for the longest time, through the loudest silence, holding you and passing you the occasional tissue to wipe the tears and blow your nose. „If I knew, I would have bought a life supply of tissues“ she jokes as you go through an entire packet, causing you to giggle for a moment through the tears, the sound so unfamiliar, it takes you both by surprise. „My little lamb..“ she begins, the pet name almost causing more tears to resurface. „Can you tell me what‘s been going on in that pretty little head of yours?“ she asks softly, her hand holding onto yours tightly, another reminder she is there, patient and willing and not considering to leave, not now, not ever.

Her gentleness is enough to break through your walls and slowly every single confession, every thought and all the fear leaves you as you tell her everything that had been going on. Your past struggles with this, the trigger in the restaurant weeks ago and everything since then. And every confession is more painful than the other, Agatha fighting her own tears as she understands the depth of your pain and the intensity of your fear, wishing she would have figured this out sooner as she undeniably would have stepped in, would have handled so many things differently. „My darling girl“ she whispers before her hands hold your cheeks gently „Why didn‘t you tell me?“ she asks, her voice filled with sadness and her eyes filled with tears.

„Because.. Aggy I‘m pathetic … and you deserve so“ but she doesn‘t let you finish. „No“ she snaps, her voice more firm this time, not ever wanting to hear those words leave your lips, struggling enough with the thought of your head having told you that for so long. „Don‘t say that“ she begins, a tear rolling down her cheek. There is silence for a while as the exhaustion of your honesty washes over you and your girlfriend tries collecting her thoughts, unable to believe you had been suffering so much on your own, feeling guilty for not having been there. „But Aggy it‘s true, there is so much more out there for you and you shouldn‘t have to deal with this, you deserve so much better“ you explain, the words hitting her like a billion knifes. She chuckles lowly, a painful one before she locks eyes with you „Kitten, I don‘t even deserve you“ she sighs, knowing how lucky she had been to be loved by you, with all her flaws and her entire past.

„And none of what your head is telling you is true, you are going through a tough time but that doesn‘t mean I deserve you any less or love you any less“ she admits, her hands instinctively holding yours a little tighter, wanting you to believe her statement but the honesty in her eyes already enough to make you believe. „Sweetheart“ she begins speaking again „I don‘t need you to be anything other than who you are, your struggles, they don‘t make you less to me. They are just parts of what make you you, and I happen to love all of you“ she confesses, her finger softly booping your nose and causing you to smile.

„You have never held me back kitten, if anything, you have made me want to stay even more, because don‘t you think I see how hard you fight? even when it feels impossible?“ Her voice drops a little lower, filled with honesty „I don‘t need you to be perfect, you could never be a burden to me, not in the slightest. I choose you every day, anxiety and all“ the softness in her voice makes you tear up again and this time you lean into her, practically holding on for dear life as she strokes your hair and kisses your head. „So, stop worrying about whether you are enough for me, because you, my little witch, are enough for me, alright? and I‘m not going anywhere“. You nod into her chest as you begin crying again, the walls finally tumbling down with each confession and reassuring of your girlfriend, finally feeling understood, your heart less heavy and your head feeling empty for the first time in weeks.

The two of you stay tangled in each others embrace, similar to the way your hearts are tangled in each other‘s chest, the connection between you stronger than ever before. Agatha asks questions, listening intently to your experience with this in the past, curious how you overcame it to begin with and offering her help. She offered to get you on your old medication again, offered to take you to the neccessary appointments and therapy, never forcing you, only wanting to get you the best help possible and what makes you comfortable. And you agreed, knowing there was no coming out of this on your own. And so, the two of you made a plan, Agatha knowing you hadn‘t left the house in a while and knowing this required just that. But the two of you spoke throughout the night, more confessions slipping from your lips and the usual tough woman telling you of similar struggles in her youth.

By the end of the night, the two of you are wrapped in each other‘s embrace in bed, you laying in her arms, listening to her soft breathing and her hands on your back, rubbing soothing circles and drawing patterns, knowing it would calm you. „Thank you Aggy��� you thank her eventually, feeling the exhaustion from the evening but also the comfort of her embrace. „Always, bunny“ she reassures before pressing a kiss to your cheek and pulling you a little closer. And so, for the first night in weeks, you manage to fall asleep without the racing thoughts, your heart beating out of your chest and your trembling hands. Tonight, you feel safe, knowing the truth was finally out there, knowing she wasn‘t going to leave. And Agatha wouldn‘t leave, not now and not in the future when the days would look so much brighter again and this would be a faint memory and reminder of some dark times. She was with you, forever and always.

[g0thnico]

Things that if I were Rick Riordan I would make more dramatic:

Percy and Gabe's relationship. I understand that it's a children's series so it's normal not to be explored as much, but if PJO was written by me, I would be turning this into one of the main points of Percy's traumas

Percy's mortal life. The only times this is introduced in PJO is to show something divine next, usually monsters or new problems. I would have shown more of what Percy was like at school and his relationship with mortals (or lack thereof)

Percy's powers. Okay, Percy is super powerful and doesn't have any conditions for this?? Nico has nothing more fair. For me, Percy's healing should 2hurt, a burning sensation for cuts and the feeling of bones going back into place when he needs to fix them. In addition, his ability to control water will cause hunger that varies according to how much he used his powers

Ares. Okay Ares is the god of war, but also the protector of women, don't you think he would have at least conflicted feelings about Percy because he was abused along with his mother? I think he would have at least a little empathy for him because of Sally

Percy's romantic life. Okay Rick, we already understand that you definitely don't know how to write romance novels, so leave it to me. Your development of Percabeth was crap and Perachel manages to make it worse, don't even talk to me about Percalypso, he accidentally ended up making Percy's romantic development with two of Hades' sons better than the canon couples. Yes, I'm talking about Bianca di Angelo because it seems like no one noticed the way he talked about Bianca (she was different from the other girls and easy to talk to), Nico (he felt a great sense of protection towards him and couldn't stop thinking about the boy who ran away) and HADES (he was amazed by Hades' dark form and would like to sleep at his feet????)

Grover and Percy soul connection. The fact that Grover and Percy are bonded and feel each other's feelings and the fact that if one dies, the other dies with them, has only been explored 2 or 3 times and that is absurd!!!! I would do at least 5 dramatic scenes where Percy feels an indescribable sadness and can't show anything but Grover cries and breaks down in helplessness just by feeling his friend's emotions. Maybe another one where Grover almost dies and Percy spits blood and faints and everyone has to find a way to save both of them or simply undo the bond before one dies, or even take care of one through the other's body (if that's possible) ok I have a lot of ideas

finally, the older brother complex coming from Sally (feeling like the experiment that went wrong and watching what went right grow). Long title, I know, but it's necessary and self-explanatory. Sally had Percy and went through a lot of hardships because he was a demigod and she was practically a single mother (having Gabe as a husband is the same as nothing) so Percy grew up with a lot of trauma and somewhat neglected by his parents and society (don't be fooled, Sally is an excellent mother, but they were a poor family and she had to work, leaving the boy to fend for himself and become somewhat independent too soon). He did everything possible to avoid causing trouble and in Sally's eyes, he really didn't! She sees all the problems they went through as the fault of the gods or monsters, not her son (the victim). So Sally gets rid of Gabe, moves out, marries a good man who understands her and accepts her "we have to deal with half-blood stuff" lifestyle, and has a normal, mortal daughter who has a perfect family. Percy never had that, and when he does, he feels like he's second best in this butter-business family. So he wants his sister to have the best life possible but realizes it's too late for him to live that

and the younger brother complex from Poseidon (feels like he must exceed his expectations, become the hero everyone expects, become as good as all the other sons of Poseidon). Percy is a demigod, accidentally a son of Poseidon and that shouldn't be a big deal. But suddenly there is a prophecy and he is the chosen one, so he is Poseidon's favorite son, strongest demigod, hero of Olympus and he needs to be strong, more than ever Percy needs to be not only good, but the best. Never in his life was he expected to do anything, not even get past the 6th grade so dad God Almighty puts all this weight on his back and he almost dies more times than he can count

[dilfartist]

Missed - short (pt.2)

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; it’s the week after Leon’s attack and the scientists examining and aiding Leon, need your assistance.

Reader description; Female/GN

Word count; 1k

TW; Dead dove do not eat, non-con, there isn’t really a smut scene, depends on how you interpret it, nonconsensual touching, messed up shit, ooc Leon. NSFW. Also tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged but its acting weird so few may not be notified.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

Nothing seems real to you anymore.

Your boyfriend working for the government was more than enough news to handle, but Leon obtaining some parasite, becoming one himself understandably tended to hurt your head.

After last week's events, you come by daily. While they did request this of you, you would have done it anyways.

Every day you wake then drive straight to the facility holding him; never missing a day. And with each passing day, he grows worse. His body changed, sprouting more veins than the last time you saw him. He looks lifeless. His baby blue eyes are now a piercing ruby color, that stare into your soul.

Leon as a person has altered. He’s more touchy, touching you anytime he can. Leon doesn’t care for your opinion, or consent on the matter. Not anymore. Aggression is a main part of his personality now. While Leon was rarely aggressive with you, it still terrified you to see him throw a tantrum and nearly rip out a security guard’s throat because you wanted to leave early.

His presence alone has grown suffocating. And You’re starting to get uncomfortable just being around him.

And the experimenters monitoring Leon aren't helping. They only ever approve of you around to gather intel. Sometimes they’ll guilt you into staying in his enclosure, observing his actions on the other side of a double mirror. Other times they’d full-on pay you to spend five or more hours with Leon. Of course, you’d have no issues if Leon acted like his old self. But that was the issue. He wasn't himself anymore.

It’s currently two o’clock and you’re attending Leon’s daily visits.

“We have one more experiment we’d like to run on Leon, but we need your help to explore what we’d like to explore.”

You nod, observing Leon from the other side of the double mirror. Leon sits crisscrossed next to a large television watching MTV mindlessly, gnawing on a slice of pizza. Leon sports grey sweatpants and a slight sauce messy white tee.

You turn your head finally providing your attention to the scientist beside you, “What is it?” you questioned.

She fixed her glasses to look down at her clipboard, “Well, Leon has been very emotional lately. We’d appreciate it if you’d go inside and just talk with him.”

You lift an eyebrow looking at her septically, “Is that all?”

She nods. “Yes, that is all. You know he only communicates with you.”

“Alright then.”

You enter Leon’s isolation when the door slides open. Leon’s room contained paper-white walls, an extensive mirror, both a couch and bed on opposite sides of each other, a television, and a bathroom area. It felt like a zoo enclosure.

Leon took a minute to glance your way. He was too captivated by the flashing images on the television. Wanting to get the interaction over with, you called out for him. “Leon.”

Leon’s eyes darted in your direction. “(Name)!” he jumped up, jogging over to you. He hugged you tightly, running kisses up and down your neck. You're frozen in an awkward position, “Hey, missed you too, Lee.”

Leon ceases his kissing, pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “Been wondering when’s the next time you’d visit.”

You chuckle, “I visit every day, Leon.”

“It feels like an eternity when you're not around.”

Leon and you lay on the couch, Leon resting his head on top of your chest. You held him close, staring at the ceiling. For abeat there was a pregnant silence, the both of you focusing on each other’s company. Then Leon spoke. Leon asked about your life: how was work? Was anything new happing? Any recent drama. He yearned for a bit of normalcy. Wanted to forget about Spain. Just wanted his main reflections on you.

Since Leon’s trip nothing was the same, not for him. Not for you. While, yes, his normal life ended after the raccoon city incident, he managed to somehow have a- what would you call it? Semi-normal life. Living with you at least.

But now it was gone. The las plazas had terminated any chance of normality for Leon. And if by chance the government’s scientists somehow cured Leon of his parasite, he’d still be left with the side effects of retaining the Las plagas for as long as he did.

Leon’s body had changed in such drastic ways. And his main concern was the upsurge in his libido.

Hours and hours he’d fist his cock, mulling on the times you’ve sucked his cock. No matter how hard, how fast, or even the time spent he couldn't stop. It hurt too much if he did. The other day the pain didn't go away until he fainted from exhaustion. He needed you. He needed to stuff you so bad it physically pained him.

His mind was barraged with thoughts of breeding your sweet pussy. Leon wasn’t the idea of having kids with you, honestly, it thought about a lot. However, this was different. It was an obsession now. Thoughts on breeding you made him cum so quickly, it became his number one fantasy.

Laying here listening to your rambling on the next-door neighbor's fight last night, his nose picks up an ambrosial smell originating from you. You smell sweet. Oh so, so, so sweet.

Leon’s ears ring, deafening him. His eyes focus on your clothed thighs. How he missed the plush skin he used to lay on after a hard week of work. More than that, he missed planting kisses on them; earing drawled out moans of his name.

Almost like an instinct, Leon’s rough, calloused, hands griped your hips. You halt and looked down at him with curiousness. Uncertain of his next actions, you press your hands against him. Worriedly you utter his name, “Leon?”

Leon refuses to acknowledge the call of his name. His main priority being his cock beginning to stiffen in his sweats.

You swallow nervously, endeavoring to pry his hands off. “Leon, please take your hands off me.” you plead in a stern manner, to come off more as a command.

Leon shakes his head. “No,” he responded, voice trembling. “You have no idea how much I need you, (Name). It's torture not having you stroke me.” he nearly moans at the last part. He climbs up the couch to be face to face.

Leon’s eyes held an immense dose of desire as he looks at you through his eyelashes. “Please touch me, baby,” he whines. “Want ‘ya so bad!” he grips your hand, placing it near your mouth to plant a kiss.

You glance at the mirror, silently pleading for assistance. Comprehending Leon’s increase in strength, kicking him off wouldn't be an option since his grip on you tautened. “Leon, stop!”

Quickly you thought of a method of escape. You acted, moving to the side for your body to decline to the ground. Both you and Leon fell to the ground, dragging cushions with you. Immediately you are on your feet, dashing to the door. You slam your fist against the metal, bruising them in the process. You could care less. Your shouting so loud your throat starts to sting. Yet there’s no reply.

You know there are people out there! You saw at least five before entering.

Then a thought comes to mind. Did they plan this?

Leon yanks you out of your shock, slamming his body against yours. Your nose whacks against the metal, prompting a whine of pain. Akin to a vampire, Leon laches on your neck, trailing kisses up and down. He sucks, bites, and drags his tongue over the marks as his hand travels down the slit in your pants.

“Sorry, baby, can’t deny myself any longer!” he apologizes, surprisingly genuinely. You accept your fate, sobbing silently to yourself.

On the opposite side of the mirror, a group of scientists observe the interaction. They all have their clipboards out, noting down every action, movent, and emotion. A Handful of them watches in revulsion while the scene unfolds in front of them. Others treat it as any other experiment, having no sympathy for you. After all, they have no idea if you’re the worst person in existence or not.

There's one thing for certain. They’d be investigating the pregnancy of a human mother and a parasite having father.

Tagged

@fbiopenups , @athanasia-day , @leonskndy , @ineedrealfriends , @destinys-dreamer, @carlosluv3r, @connorsoddsock, @sl33paholics , @explosiongamora , @idiotuvu-blog , @tarcroach, @mikeywaysghost, @jinna-aka-ninja , @lovelysserafim, @jujupia , @lomaeuwu, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @sammy213ui , @stella-fleurets, @elliellielliesgirl

[jaybejaybeyes]

The more time passes, the angrier I get about the Meljay ending. Or, more accurately, the lack of one. And no, I’m not even talking about the criminal absence of a single meaningful, soul-baring conversation between them after act 1 s2. I’m talking about all the wasted potential here. Because just imagine the depth the show could’ve explored if it’d actually leaned into their fallout.

Think about how broken Mel must’ve felt after she reached out to Jayce, vulnerable and raw, only for him to turn his back on her. That could’ve hardened her, made her colder, crueller. And Jayce? Who’s such an openhearted, trusting guy with Mel? The only way I can understand him pushing her away in ep8 is if he knew he was about to sacrifice himself fighting Viktor and couldn’t bear to let her get hurt (that said, I hate that trope, there’s nothing worse than one half of a pairing deciding unilaterally to take away the other’s right to choose whether to stay or leave). At least that explanation would’ve been something. But we got no introspection from Jayce, no reflection on their relationship, only his outburst that felt out of left field.

And the tension we could’ve had?? Them wrestling with their conflicting I-need-to-destroy-arcane vs I-am-arcane???

But wait, let’s flip it around for a second. What if they never fell out? What if, after everything, they had a tender reunion, realising they were now (still!) the only people who truly understood each other? What if Mel finally let herself break down in front of him, letting herself be vulnerable, and Jayce found a (however fleeting) reprieve from the madness of his mission to stop Viktor?

Imagine the old Jayce, the one who dreamed big and loved deeply, breaking through the armour the new Jayce’d built up. Imagine their bond with Mel deepening in the aftermath of not one, but two shared traumas (first, bombing, then ending up somewhere unknown, suffering horrors against their will). Picture them finding some solace in each other, healing together, clinging to the idea that maybe,  maybe, they could have something resembling happiness again.

And when the inevitable heartbreak came, it would’ve been absolutely devastating. Not because Jayce “chose Viktor over Mel” (we don’t tolerate this sentiment in this house), but because Jayce knew he was doomed. He knew that Viktor’s fate was entwined with his and that he’d have to make it to the end alone, whether to save Viktor or destroy him. Maybe he even told Mel this, and she understood, because she saw what Viktor meant to him, and she knew their connection was special on so many levels. 

And yet she still hoped. She hoped Jayce would defeat the Machine Herald and come back. She hoped she could finally stand up to her mother and find freedom. Maybe they even dreamed of running away together someday, like, hijacking one of the Noxian ships and leaving everything behind to process their traumas (okay, two kudos and I might think about writing such a fic, lol).

But instead of any of this character study, we got... nothing. Not even a satisfying reason for their fallout. No contemplations from either of them about what they meant to each other. Just a glaring void where their dynamic should’ve been. So, so disappointing.

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders meets apocalypse? maybe some kind of trope where they got separated from the reader at the beginning of it all and while they knew all the spots they were likely to meet up at they just kept missing each other, times being off and such! + like after some time them finally find their way back together

Thanks for requesting my love! Idk how the first war went (fake fan!) but I imagine this “apocalypse” as during that time, something like the wizarding world in the Deathly Hallows after the death eaters take the ministry? I hope this is alright <3

apocalypse poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

It’s getting dark, and you know that you can’t sleep here but you probably will anyway. 

The cave isn’t a very comfortable place to spend the night, nor does it allow much room for hiding. If some troop of death eaters manages to track you here, you’ll be cornered, but you’ve long since gotten over the fear of being found. That panic lives in your bones now. It’s like your heartbeat, so inseparable from you that you don’t even notice it most the time. 

And honestly, if they want to find you here, let them. You’ve got nowhere else to go. 

This is the last place you could think of that the boys might come looking for you, the last place that hasn’t been found and desecrated and reduced to searing rubble. James told you once that they used to slip away during trips to Hogsmeade and explore these caves when they were younger. There are dozens of them, but he talked about one, the biggest, at the top of the hill, that they’d made their favorite hideout. You hope he remembers telling you as clearly as you remember hearing it. If they don’t find you here, you’ll have to face the question of whether you know your boyfriends as well as you think you do. Or whether you still have boyfriends to know. 

The view from their cave would normally be spectacular, Hogsmeade all lit up and surrounded by woodlands, but knowing that only makes what you’re actually looking down at seem worse. The usually quaint and lively town is abandoned. You can’t detect any movements in the streets and not a single lamppost is lit. What had been such a beacon of joy and fun during your time at Hogwarts, a place tied to some of your best memories—saving money when you were little for sweets at Honeydukes, getting butterbeer with your friends at the Three Broomsticks, watching performers in the square—has been reduced to this ghost town, dark and lonely and vacant but for the poor souls too frightened to leave their homes. 

Even as bleak as the town appears, your stomach grumbles looking down at it. Luckily, you’ve been able to utilize your skill with the obliviate charm to steal from muggle corner stores without anyone noticing, but though you leave the memories of the clerks largely intact, you still feel awful about it. No matter what food you smuggle away, guilt turns it bland and unappetizing in your mouth, and you haven’t tried to find a meal in a couple of days. Remus is good with illusions, if he were with you he could make money out of leaves and walk out of restaurants without having to tamper with the muggles themselves. Or if James still has the invisibility cloak, you could be using it to get all kinds of things without raising any suspicion. 

An owl hoots in the trees below you, and your head snaps up out of some hopeful instinct. But no, no one is sending you letters here. You’re not even sure if owls are allowed anymore, or if there’s anyone left who would write to you. You wish desperately that Remus was here to tell you you’re being silly, that Voldemort’s followers couldn’t possibly have squashed every ounce of rebellion in just a couple weeks, or Sirius to make fun of the robes the death eaters wear like third years in their rebellious goth phase, or James to hug you and promise, however emptily, that it’ll all be alright in the end. 

But as much as you miss the boys, you’re glad they have each other. At least, last you saw them they did. 

There’s a shuffling of rocks outside, and you flinch away from the mouth of the cave. It could be an animal, or the wind, but you can’t chance it. You move as quietly as you can to the darkness in the back, pressing yourself against a wall and doing your best to sink into the shadows as you slip your wand free of your shirtsleeve. You’ve got an expelliarmus on your tongue, hoping desperately that will be enough and too cautious to hope for anything more, when the first dark figure climbs into the entrance of the cave. 

“Merlin,” a male voice says, shrugging a pack off onto the floor, “it used to feel a bit bigger, don’t you think?”

A choked sob gives away your location, but it hardly matters, because in the next instant you’re racing towards the figure, shoes slipping clumsily on the damp ground. He curses, scrambling for his wand, but then you’re on him, and it’s all he can do to stay upright as your arms go around his neck. 

He recognizes you then, gasping your name just as the other two boys make their way up to the landing. They’re mere silhouettes against the twilight outside, but even through your tear-blurred vision you’d know them anywhere. You make a high-pitched keening sound, and Sirius and Remus both rush to you, smushing you and James between them. 

You can’t stop crying, splintered, gasping sobs like a child that doesn’t know how to live in the world on its own. You know James is weeping too from the wetness seeping into the collar of your shirt, and you think it’s Sirius’ hand that’s fisted in the back of your coat, but it really doesn’t matter. They’re here. They’re all here. 

“I didn’t think you’d come here,” Remus says, voice ragged. 

You laugh, and it’s a rough, awful sound, rusty from weeks of disuse. “I wasn’t sure you would either.” 

“Fuck, baby.” Sirius adjusts his grip on you, trying to pull you closer though you’re already pressed against him. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You take a breath, steadying yourself as you step back where you can see them. They all look a little worse for wear, but that’s expected. James is rubbing underneath his glasses, teartracks cutting through what looks like soot on his face. Sirius too is dirtier than he ever would’ve allowed just a couple weeks ago, but he doesn’t seem like he’s lost any weight. And the scars you can see Remus, you conclude after some inspection, are the same ones you’ve been getting to know for years. They all seem okay. However they did it, they’ve managed to stay safe. 

“I’ve been everywhere,” you say finally. “I went to the shack first, but there were death eaters there.” 

James brow furrows, and he sniffles. “There weren’t any around when we went. When did you check there?”

“The day after it happened.” 

“We were there just that morning.” 

You sit down on the cold earth, careless of the dampness seeping into your pants. “I wanted to go sooner, but I couldn’t get away from my neighborhood. They were everywhere.” 

Sirius takes a blanket out of the pack James had discarded, laying it out on the floor of the cave and motioning for you to come sit beside him on it. 

“Did you try Godric’s Hallow?” Remus asks, spreading another blanket for himself and James across from you. “We hung around there for days.”

“Yeah,” you say. Remus sets a hand on your knee as he sits in front of you, James seating himself across from Sirius. “I went there straight after the shack, didn’t leave until the next night.” 

“You’re joking.” Sirius looks at you, devastation written across his features. “We got there three days after we got separated from you. We had to have been there at the same time.” 

You let out a short, stilted laugh, laying your head on Sirius’ shoulder as a fresh wave of tears obscures your vision. “We must’ve just missed each other.” Sirius wraps an arm around your shoulder, resting his head atop yours. “Wonder how many times that happened,” you say bitterly. 

“It doesn’t matter now.” Remus' tone is firm, but his knee bumps into yours consolingly. “We’re together, and…and we’re not going to get separated again. I won’t let it happen.” 

“But I think we should pick a more definitive meeting spot,” Sirius says with forced lightness. “Just to be sure, you know?”

James actually laughs, and the familiar sound lifts the mood in the cave slightly. 

“Probably,” you agree. “Hey, you guys don't have any food on hand, do you?”

“Merlin, is that rumbling your stomach?” Sirius asks. “I was thinking the roof of this place was about to come down.” He nudges you playfully, and you lean more of your weight onto him in response. He’s laying it on a bit thick in an attempt to try and brighten the atmosphere in your little cave, but you love him for it. 

“We’ve got food,” James says, already digging through the pack. “Sandwich okay?”

As ridiculous as it would’ve sounded to you a month ago, the idea of a full sandwich, with bread and everything, makes your mouth water. “More than okay.” You take it from him, all but moaning as you chew your first bite. “Fuck, this is so luxurious.” 

“If you think that’s luxurious,” James says enticingly, “wait until you see the grade-a sleeping pads we picked up. It’s a good thing we found you before you had to sleep in here, angel, because this is about to be a major improvement.” 

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. This is already a major improvement.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know the König x secret admirer reader is not gonna be officially continued but I was wondering if you could maybe explore part of it😭 there’s a part that mentioned that König gets laid in the military and I was wondering how angsty it would be if reader found out?🤭

Yes of course! ^^ It would be angsty... and fluffy! These two are the silliest people who ever lived tbh 🩷🐥

König is young in this AU (around his early 20s) and wildly inexperienced compared to some of the other recruits his age.

His first time was with a girl who joined the army when König had been there for about 1.5 years already. Desperate as he was with hiding the fact that he’s still a virgin, he tumbled into bed with this lady after a night out at the bar. She thoroughly seduced him, and König’s instincts told him she was only looking for fun, but he went with her anyway because, well. Loneliness can kill you, you know?!

He tried to woo her a bit after that until it became quite clear that this woman was not planning to settle down anytime soon. If anything, she was looking for a new conquest – and it’s fine, totally fine, except that König had surrendered a tiny piece of his heart to her along with his dick... That’s just how he is, and it took him more than a few months to get over the fact that it was “just a shag” and he “shouldn’t take things so seriously”.

That’s also why he closed off from people again, decided to concentrate on work and training and gym – until our cute little angel stumbled into his life like the prettiest saving grace! König was a goner from the start because this girl's approach was very different, so gentle and sweet compared to grimy shot glasses and smudgy lipstick and raunchy jokes. It’s a given that he was a little shocked when she sent her that pic 🙄 reminding him of promiscuous women who are not looking for a soul but a body, but because he is what he is the first thing he did was crank things up a notch and send her a dick pic back…

Yes, he’s desperate, but he’s also an go hard or go home man and this time, König is relatively sure he’s dealing with a lovely, delicate soul. Someone who wouldn’t just leave him out in the cold after getting what she wants.

And everything is like a fairytale between these two until she finds out he’s not a virgin despite he seemed a bit… like one… (in this scenario I think reader is a virgin and she thought König was one too because of obvious reasons? lol) And it’s fine, totally fine for her as well, except that the image of König having the night of his life with some military babe is haunting her from dusk till dawn.

There’s bound to be some drama when she starts asking timidly whether she’s still there… Whether they see each other every day. If they talk to each other, if he trains with her, etc. What if they test rifles together, or go out again with the sniper crew and get drunk and König feels… a little lonely?

She knows he would never cheat on her, not in a million years, but knowing how much of a wet dog he is she can’t promise that she’ll be all calm and relaxed during weekends, knowing her boyfriend is out there, full of testosterone and heart, his heart somewhat susceptible to female influence… Maybe even good old seduction…

And what’s even worse is the jealousy, the envy.

What if she’s more badass than her? That doesn't take much... She must be fierce if she’s in the military, something completely different, a forbidden apple König might want to taste again. It’s maddening, and when she finally opens up about it to him, spitting it out one night when he asks what’s bugging his sweet angel, there’s a big fat silence that follows.

König can't even believe she has torn her heart to pieces over something like this, alone and upset and ashamed when she's a literal angel. He sits her nice and pretty in his lap and talks her ear off about how he has nothing against this woman, truly, but that she is nothing compared to his first (and hopefully last!) girlfriend. Their love could never be compared to what happened between him and that girl, these things can’t even be spoken together in the same sentence. If he’s completely honest, his first time was... disappointing. Awkward, humbling, a total drunken mess of which he remembers nothing except that the woman wasn’t completely present either and that he was ashamed that his first time had to be like this.

Honestly, he felt like he lost his virginity on the night when he came to see her. She’s everything he’s ever dreamed of, all he thinks about these days... It’s quite annoying, actually, because he’s supposed to concentrate on how the wind blows and that the ammo doesn’t get wet and that he’s properly concealed.

He could be lying in a ditch with dummy rounds whirling past him and all he could think about are her eyes and lips and giggling and tits and, and… that. How warm it is, how nice it is, how he would just want to curl himself next to her when he hops back to his bunk in the evening. Her smile is the last thing he sees before he dreams, her voice is what he hears. All the things she said, all those sweet, silly little things, chime in his ear before he sleeps.

And all the precious moments they’ve already spent together, the times he made love to her under the trees... There’s nothing like that in the whole world and if she thinks something else can top that she's even sillier than he thought. He could comb through all the continents and he would never find a girl like her.

So tell him again... Why would he go to a shot glass of saltwater when he has a jar of wild honey right here at home?

[star-centric]

Ooo somewhat angsty request: when would be the first time MC saw each of the obey me brothers cry, and what's the best way to support them in that situation?

PAIRINGS: Obey Me Brothers x Gender Neutral!Reader

NOTE: *rubs hands together menacingly* I’ve been waiting for this one 😈 I definitely see myself exploring this idea again in the future (or even redoing this, idk yet tho 👀)

CW: angst (but not soul crushing), all of the guys are very vulnerable in this, gender neutral reader, minor spoilers for the first game (don’t worry, it’s not about *that* scene), no NB spoilers since I’m behind in the game </3

When you see LUCIFER cry for the first time, it was late at night, where he believed that he was the only soul awake in the house- until you poked your head in the study, concern etched on your face.

He had one of his cursed records playing, the gentle music softly filling the air as he poured another glass of Demonus, gloves long forgotten. The simple smile he wore on his face only was a mask of what he was feeling.

He looked so…tired. So defeated.

“I try to give my brothers a good life- a life not only reminiscent of the one they lost from before, but a life even better than that. A life that they deserve.” He began, finger toying with the rim of his glass. “But I failed.”

You remained quiet as Lucifer let out a bitter laugh, “I failed- I let all of them down. I let down my brothers, I let down Lord Diavolo, I let down Michael, I let down my Father- all of them. I‘ve became a disappointment in the Celestial Realm, and I’m continuing to do so even now in the Devildom.”

You’ve never seen Lucifer so vulnerable before- you’ve always seen him act so unbothered, his pride refusing to let him reveal too much. He’s always been the one to lead, the one his family would go to for anything, the one that would sacrifice himself without a moment’s hesitation. He was the glue holding everything together, but everything wears thin with time.

He picked up the glass, swirling it around before setting back down with a harsh thud, sighing.

“I’ve let you all down. And that in and of itself is unforgivable-“

Lucifer flinched when he felt your hand on his cheek, thumb gently wiping under his eye. He was confused for a moment before he felt something wet trail down his other cheek. He wiped at it only to notice his vision getting a bit blurry-

How long has it been since he cried?

A few of his tear drops landed on his documents below, yet as he glanced up at you, you didn’t say a word. You didn’t point out how unguarded he was being, you didn’t interrupt him- you merely listened and wiped away his tears with a gentle smile lining your cheeks.

Lucifer couldn’t stop his tears after that, and he found himself grasping onto you as they continued.

When you see MAMMON cry for the first time, it’s in your room.

He was avoiding everyone today including you, and while it left you worried, you gave him some space. When you got back to your room, you noticed the door ajar- and when you opened it fully, you noticed a figure curled into your bed, a mop of messy white hair poking out from your blankets. You peeked over to see if he was asleep-

You didn’t have time to react as he grabbed and pulled you down to him.

Mammon buried his head into the crook of your neck and tightened his arms around you, hiding his face completely.

You wanted to ask what was wrong- what he was going through, for him to talk to you- but no words needed to be exchanged as he shook in your grasp, feeling your shirt getting damp. You didn’t have it in you to ask anymore.

All you did was comb your fingers through his locks as he quietly sobbed.

You’re not sure how long you stayed there, curled up against one another, but he eventually went still, soft snores passing through his lips.

It didn’t matter what the issue was- whether it was just a bad day or worse- you would always be there for him.

When you see LEVIATHAN cry for the first time, it’s in the privacy of his room.

You were binge-watching a new anime, one that had you both invested. It was about an immortal finding love after centuries- you were surprised Levi wanted to finish watching it after discovering it was a romance, but you were glad nonetheless (even if he couldn’t hide his flushed face).

You were nearing the end of the series when you heard sniffling.

You glanced to see Levi with tears building up in his eyes, threatening to fall.

You tried to look away but he already caught you staring.

The tips of his ears were burning red as he flinched, “Don’t- don’t look at me MC!”

“Levi, you know there’s nothing wrong with crying right?”

“Sti-Still! It’s embarrassing!”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about! It’s sad, it’s emotional-“ you explained. “If it makes you feel better, I kinda want to cry too.” Which wasn’t a lie- your eyes were starting to sting a little. You knew how the outcome was going to be for the main characters, but it still felt like a gut punch to see.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Levi, so you gently linked your pinkie with his. You were happy that he didn’t flinch away from you this time.

“Just know that you’re not alone, okay?”

Levi shyly nodded his head, and you felt him slightly squeeze your pinkie. He knew that he wasn’t, but that wasn’t what got him emotional.

What got him emotional was seeing the immortal, holding their elderly lover in his arms as they passed on. The lover aged as time passed, but the immortal stayed the same- except they were alone again like how they were centuries ago.

No matter how many happy moments the characters had in the show together, it was bound to end in tragedy.

And it brought Levi back to reality.

Back to the reality that he would eventually lose you in the same way.

When you see SATAN cry for the first time, it was in his demon form.

You’ve seen him before like this after he lashed out in the past, spiky tail whipping furiously behind him, green eyes showing nothing but fury. You know that he tries to keep his anger under control, but it still got the best of him at times.

But you didn’t see any anger this time.

You only saw anguish.

There Satan was, kneeled on the ground with tears welling up in his eyes with ripped and scattered objects tossed around the room, a result of destructive rage from before.

“I’ll never been seen for myself, will I?”

Satan’s eyes stayed on the ground, never meeting your own. “I’ll only ever be seen as my sin, as an extension of my older brother- never as myself.”

He shoulders trembled as he let out a bitter laugh that filled the room.

“I know I shouldn’t expect anything different. I should be used to it by now, but- why does it still bother me?”

His smile did nothing to hide his pain, crystal tears cascading down his cheeks.

“Why does it still hurt MC?”

You joined him on the floor and pulled him in your arms, holding onto him as he broke down.

When you see ASMODEUS cry for the first time, you thought it was a ploy at first.

You’ve seen Asmo bring tears to his eyes on a whim when he’s trying to get his way or be dramatic, so to see the same thing happen now wasn’t anything new. You were painting each others nails when you asked him if he’s ever been in love before-

“Of course MC! I love all of my fans dearly and they love me-“

“No, not that kind of love. Like true love- has someone ever told you they love you genuinely?”

“Hm, I don’t…”

When you saw the dejected look in his eyes, you became aware that it wasn’t a ploy at all.

You didn’t look up when he went quiet, concentrating on finishing the final coat on his nails. It wasn’t until you saw something wet drip onto his hand that made you glance up, seeing a single tear roll down his cheek with a forced smile.

“…I don’t know.” He choked out.

Asmo always soaked in the admiration from his fans- but that’s all it was, admiration. They loved the Asmo that they saw in the Fall, the Asmo that they saw on Devilgram- they loved the Asmo that they saw, but did they really know him enough to say they truly love him?

Did they love the Asmo you see or Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust?

“People love me and I love my fans, but why does it still feel so empty?” The smile on his face that he was so used to flashing soon fell, more tears steadily rolling down his flushed cheeks.

Despite what his sin is, Asmo did believe in true love. He believed that one day he found find someone to pour his heart and soul into and get the same in return. Even after he fell and lost his beautiful wings, he still held on to his wish of finding that person.

He started to imagine that person was you.

But he was scared that you didn’t picture him that way. That you only saw him as the Avatar of Lust.

For once, Asmo felt insecure, and he could do nothing but soak in the warmth he was afraid of losing as you held him sobbing.

When you saw BEELZEBUB cry for the first time, it catches you off guard.

You only went to grab some water, waking up and walking to the kitchen in your dazed state.

It wasn’t a surprise to see Beel there with a meal- but it was a surprise to see him wiping away tears, food untouched.

Any sleepiness washed away when you rushed to him, already by his side, asking him what’s wrong.

“I had another nightmare.” He sniffled, refusing to make eye contact with his body tense. “About Lilith.”

Your breath hitched- Beel told you once about his nightmares, but never what it was about. You only assumed how horrible it was from the faraway look he had in his eyes. It never crossed your mind that it was about his sister-

“I saw her MC- it’s always the same,” Beel balled up his fists, baring his fangs. “I’m always too late to save her- why couldn’t I save her?!”

He was no longer hiding his frustration or tears, which were freely rolling down his cheeks. All you could do was listen as he tried his best not to break down under the kitchen lights.

“You protected her, Beel.” You softly spoke, reaching to hold his hand. “You all did more than enough to protect her, and I know that she doesn’t blame you.” You lightly squeezed his hand, “She knows that it’s not your fault. None of it was.”

You’re not sure how long you sat there holding Beel, sobbing out broken apologies to his dear sister who would never hear them.

When you see BELPHEGOR cry for the first time, it was in his sleep.

You spent the night in the twins room, bundled up next to him as you were beginning to doze off. Belphie clung on to you, mumbling something incoherent as he slept. But before you could get lost in your dreams, you felt his grip growing tighter around you.

You brushed off the minor discomfort, only turning to then hear something that truly woke you up-

Belphie whimpering.

You blinked away any sleepiness, turning to see his face twisted in pain, fresh tear staining his cheeks. His hands were clenching onto you tight, whimpering soon turning into a chorus of “no” and “please”.

You shook him awake before he could continue, hair stuck to his forehead as his eyes shot open, panting. He scanned the room before landing on you, pulling you closer into him, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. No doubt he had a nightmare.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Belphie took a long pause. “…Everyone hated and blamed me for everything, for all of our problems. You all forced me to leave, and I was casted out of my home- again.”

You did nothing but soothe him as you felt him tremble again, your neck becoming damp as he started to quietly sob. “You know that won’t ever happen Belphie-“

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Just- stay with me…please?”

“Of course.”

You felt his tail wrap around your waist as he sobbed out a thank you. You combed your fingers through his locks, lulling him back to sleep- hopefully to better dreams.

[baldurs-writers-3]

Wyll Ravengard: A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic Rec List

This week, we have Wyll Focused fics! Check under the cut for ten incredible fics all about our favorite folk hero, Wyll Ravengard. And as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

Blood-seeking Blade by specimenbag (24809, Teen) Content Notes: Canon-Typical Violence Pairings: Astarion/Wyll

The end of the world must be nigh, Wyll thought, if Wyll of the Griffins spares a monster and lets him be a bloody traveling companion. Or, the series where Wyll is a Witcher, and Astarion is the vampire he saved

Reccer says: I love literally everything about this AU. The author includes helpful notes to explain witcher terminology so its very accessible. The vibes are immaculate and the characterizations are so well done.

Nothing Like the Sun by odessacastle (159772, Mature) Content Notes: None Pairings: Astarion/Wyll

Wyll and Astarion meet before his exile! Fate wants things to proceed down a similar path, however.

Reccer says: It's neat to see two canon companions have the 'oh shit we knew each other before this tadpole bullshit!!' that you normally just see more OC focused, it makes for very different starting interactions. Also man Wyll is bad at vampire spotting.

the blade falls by PurpleCatGhost (4097, Teen) Content Notes: None Pairings: Wyll & Friends

Wyll used to know his own limits fairly well, but that was before the tadpole. Besides that, having friends you can rely on is also a new experience, though at least this one is a nice one

Reccer says: I really enjoy Wyll realizing just a little bit too late that his injuries are worse than he thought, and then everyone's response to that being "How dare you not tell us you needed help >:("

Bouquet of the Frontiers by Tavylia_Sin (5796, General) Content Notes: Pairings: Wyll & Friends

Wyll tries to spend the tiefling party off on his own. His friends decide they would much rather adorn him in flowers and affirmations instead.

Reccer says: Very sweet. The found family vibes are impeccable

Hells Escape Pact by ushauz (17613, Teen) Content Notes: None Pairings: Karlach/Wyll, Astarion/Wyll, Astarion/Karlach, Astarion/Karlach/Wyll

A bit of a 'bad end' for three of the companions. Wyll is a proper demon type in Hell, Karlach never got out, and Astarion got sacrificed in the ritual. What now?

Reccer says: Bad end doesn't have to be bad forever!

Window to the Soul by normal_thoughts_official (653, Mature) Content Notes: depersonalization Pairings:

little snippets from wyll's childhood, through his time as the blade and how he sees himself as a person (and not)

Reccer says: for a short story it packs a damn punch, left me emotional

Saviour Complex by fantailsock (12246, Mature) Content Notes: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Pairings: Wyll and Friends, minor Astarion/Wyll

Five times someone helped Wyll out and one time he helped himself.

Reccer says: I'm always a sucker for found family and the team forcing someone to learn how to value themselves, and this fic is perfect for that

Less Than Ideal by jeejaschocolate (5021, General) Content Notes: some internalized ableism and drinking to cope Pairings: Astarion/Wyll

Being burned by hellfire left Wyll with poor eyesight in his solitary eye. Astarion notices. Of course, he can’t keep his opinions to himself.

Reccer says: Lovely exploration of vulnerability

a story better than the real thing by not_whelmed_yet (1100, General) Content Notes: N/A Pairings: N/A

Wyll is alone in the woods, in the wilderness, and the heroes of his youth spoke only of victory so maybe he can convince himself of it, too.

Reccer says: a wonderful character study of Wyll as the Blade of Frontiers - creating a storybook persona so he can try and distract himself from the miserable realities of his current situation. very sad. very fascinating.

And then we have three recs for the following: Allemande by adrezarach (7255, Explicit) Content Notes: None Pairings: Wyll/Tav, Wyll & Ulder Ravengard

Wyll is developing a crush on Tav and comes to realize that they’ve met before, when they were amongst the nobility of Baldur’s Gate! An introspective character study of Wyll, touching on how his life intersects with Tav’s over the course of nine years. He dances, he dreams, and he thinks about the storybook hero he wants to be.

Reccer #1 says: I really enjoyed this read and the author has a Wyll voice that feels very distinctive and true to character. Reccer #2 says: The author has a distinctive and poignant Wyll-voice, and the contrast between the timeframes of the fic is really interesting. Reccer #3 says: The author has such a strong grasp of Wyll’s character and a distinctive narrative voice that suits him really well. I love how they played with past and present so that the reader can see his changing thoughts over his life pre and post pact. It’s a strong piece as a stand-alone, but it’s clear the author has long term plans for this characterization and this dynamic. One of my favorite wyll-centric wylltav pieces.

The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ!

Next week, we’ll be back with the evergreen trope, Misunderstandings!

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

What do you think about mu qing & his crush stuck in an elevator/room?

Stuck

Mu Qing x gn!reader

He's "annoyed" but more so embarrassed

The two of you were supposed to do an easy mission and it was supposed to be over with quickly.

Apparently not

You two had been exploring a temple who ironically had been the temple of the goddess of love.

Mu Qing hates her now.

Because when going in one of the rooms, after both of you had walks inside you both heard a loud slam and the door had slid shut.

So today has been just wonderful for Mu Qing

It's been a few hours. You spent time trying to find mechanisms or some type of enchantment that may have caused the issue.

Mu Qing spent his time trying to beat the door and walls down. He even tried putting a hole in the ceiling or, hell, even the floor

The room cut off all array contact too so you guys couldn't call anyone.

Now he's exhausted, annoyed and leaning against the wall.

The worst part about it? It isn't even a big room! It is the size of maybe a regular closet.

Even worse? It's dark

So all the beating he was doing couldn't be done at full power without hurting you

All the searching you did couldn't be done well without the two of you bumping up against each other.

You hadn't minded the bumping against each other but the more you had tried to search Mu Qing told you to stop and even diminished the light he had summoned in his hand.

Just for reasons you know, not because he's blushing. He sounds like he's annoyed but what he looks like is completely different.

You're searching is successful though. So you tell Mu Qing to bring the light back.

You've found a sign! That's great. You mumble out what it says, "Shared souls must share secrets"

So after thinking for a while you come up with nothing. You have no secrets.

Mu Qing definitely has secrets. You urge him to tell just one so you guys could leave. You even promised to forget about it.

Mu Qing rolls his eyes and tells something small, something stupid. The doors still don't open.

You add that maybe it has to be a secret regarding you since the both of you are in the room together.

Well aren't you so clever today? Mu Qing grumbles about it. He doesn't want to tell you anything, but he doesn't want to be stuck in this room forever either.

He diminishes his light once again and gives in.

Mu Qing can feel heat rise to his face, especially since you're so close and then he mumbles out his confession to you.

He's always arrogant and sneering but right now he's embarrassed, vulnerable.

There's silence and at first he's cursing himself because why aren't the door fucking opening.

Then he feels soft lips on his and a light in the room comes on.

You lean back and you're grinning from ear to ear.

The door still hasn't opened but you have your fingers pressed to your temple and he can only sputter.

You've been able to contact someone the whole time! He couldn't open the door but you could've!

You're only laughing softly once he finally realizes what you've done and then you open the door for him.

Then you're holding his hand while the two of you walk out of the temple.

You try to bring up his blushing face to tease him but he tells you to shut up. He's still holding your hand though.

Mu Qing realizes now that you're a sly, cunning fix but he still loves you so it's okay

____________________________________

Ignore my grammar mistakes guys and I hope you liked it😭🙏

[bonkbobl]

the mediator between the head and hands must be the heart

ROOSE BOLTON X READER | PART 1

a/n: this was not supposed to have a part 2 but i just really like the idea of secret pervert roose bolton and this will absolutely not be the last fic exploring that. also maaaad respect if you get the movie reference of the title.

summary: taking roose to bed isnt too bad but that really just makes it worse. as does the several confusing feelings bubbling inside of you. you really are beginning to wonder if you truly hate roose bolton

warning: noncon turned dubcon, breeding kink, poor reader is so confused 😭😭 with her body and her feelings, lots of short smut scenes but like their relationship is mostly sexual to begin with, stockholm syndrome vibes if you choose to look at it like that

His warm body felt hot, firm, and sweaty over yours, especially as your tits rubbed against his chest each time he thrusted into you. You just lay there, hoping he would cum and roll of of you before you did.

You always hoped so. But you think he must be able to tell somehow.

You gripped the pillow beneath you so hard youre sure youd could rip it to shreds.

A moan you were trying desperately to keep at bay ripped through your throat because you could hear and feel how spongey and tight your cunt had become. Each time he pushed through felt like he was coming right back home. You couldnt stop your body from welcoming him in like that even if you wanted to.

Whimpers fought past your lips and though you managed to conceal most of them under your breath, you knew he could hear. And it was growing more difficult. Turning your head to the side, you started to sort of let go into a bundle of sheets you’d grabbed in your hand.

Your husband didn't like that one bit.

Roose grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, fucking you harder than before and the whimpers you were failing to stifle tumbled out.

He was in awe of you, watching your eyebrows cinch, your beautiful chest rising and falling, the way your hair was splayed out, your tits bouncing on an especially hard thrust.

You stared at Roose’s lust blown eyes and you could hardly believe this was the same man you knew months ago, before he betrayed your King and forced you into his bed. He was always so composed, a practical man. Now to see him rutting into you, grunting, cursing at how good it felt to be inside, enveloped, you could hardly recognize the cool exterior you knew him to have.

You whimpered at the feeling of his hand moving down from your chin to grip your neck tightly.

It was his hand tightening around your throat that left you tumbling towards release this time. Convulsing around him as always, eyes fluttering close. Roose loved to watch your puffy lips part as you breathed your shaky little breaths.

Almost every time, your release would immediately spur his own. And thats exactly what it did this time.

You resigned yourself to just try to calm down rather than fight it. He was going to put a baby in you. That was his goal. You hate to say it but the thought began to seem not so bad, since you imagined these nightly visits would cease as soon as his seed took root inside you. And you could then walk away with whatever small slice of dignity still remaining.

Give him an heir. And he'll be done with you.

Roose kissed your neck, your jaw, your cheek… before finally landing on your still parted lips. You kissed back instinctively, legs trailing up his side. It was your body moving itself without your minds consent.

Your walls squeezed him lovingly, fluttering, rolling your hips. You hope he succeeded tonight. Your mind cannot take more of this war that your body is waging against it.

—————

You liked embroidering your dresses. You found that it quiets the soul as much as reading does. Even in your time in Robb's camp, if you found yourself contemplating the losses of the past year far too much, you'd turn to your embroidering, reading, or drinking with the other men at camp. It reminded you of the days of leisure in Winterfell, when you'd rather find comfort and peace —and gossip— in Sansa than adventure with Robb and Arya.

It was lonely in Winterfell now. Except when your husband would come to visit you but of course, well, you had mixed feelings about that.

You've never felt anything quite like the confusion that came with being married to Roose Bolton. You looked up from your embroidery and stared at the door to your bedchamber. He was to be here, you think a quarter of an hour ago.

The second that thought had crossed your mind, you shook your head. And you are better off for his tardiness. In fact you should be praying to the gods that he trips falls down the ramparts of the castle.

Well... you don't hope he dies but you hope he breaks a leg or something of the sort. The thought of him dying wouldn't bring you the same satisfaction. You just want to see him scowl at you again as you taunt and teas, like he used to. The good old times when you weren't his prisoner and you held the power. Or perhaps that was simply an illusion too.

Now, it's you who scowls at him, and he is the one who smirks at you with that self-satisfied look on his face. Gods, he disgusts you. Almost as much as you disgust yourself. You were disgusting for, Gods forbid you ever have to say this outloud, enjoying the time you shared with him at night.

Yes, that's something you've unfortunately had to come to terms with. Mostly because the bastard cant keep his comments to himself about how you squeeze him, how you drip for him, how your pretty little cunny is always prepared for him — much more amiable than you.

You could only hope that endurance is all you need. You just need to endure until you become with child — you dont know why it's taking this long. Is it supposed to take this long? You pray to the Gods you are fertile because the quicker you have his child the sooner he'll leave you alone. Perhaps he'll even let you rot here quietly.

And you can then forget about this conflict within you. No more nightly confusions.

The door creaked open and your head shot up, stomach twisting with desire. Roose walked in, starting straight toward the table you sat at and you watched him pour a cup of water for himself then another for you.

Ah yes, as if to make you suffer deeper, yesterday he told you he would cease bringing wine to your room as it would not be good for his heir if you were to drown it with alcohol. You nearly choked him when he took it away from you.

He raised his cup to you, acknowledging your presence with a slight upward tilt in his lips. You watched him critically. "You look happy today, husband."

Roose hummed and took a sip of his water then he set the cup down and offered you his hand. You stared at it dumbly for two seconds before taking it and letting him lead you to the small window looking out of the tower.

Resting his hand on the small of your back, Roose turned to look at you, eyes scanning your side profile until you turned your gaze to him.

What is he doing?

You didn't lie. Your husband looked very strangely chipper, the hint of a smile seemingly permanent on your face. To be frank, it unsettled you greatly.

Then to end your agony, Roose finally spoke, "Do you enjoy this view, my lady?"

You wondered what sort of game he was trying to play with you. Another one of his tricks, likely, or he simply wishes to gloat to you that he's taken your childhood home.

"The center of all the North and it is ours."

Hesitation filled you along with a deeper confusion than the confusion you'd already felt.

"It will be ours for generations to come," His soft voice always had a smooth gentleness to it but smooth and gentle were pretty and digestible masks, concealing the cruelty that laid beneath. But this time, there was no cruelty in his words.

"Y-yes, my lord."

It scared you more than when he would be cruel. "I had hope that you would learn to step into your role, wife."

"My role? My role is to be your breeding bitch and provide heirs, is it not?"

Roose chuckled at the bite behind your words, "I do believe you chose to become my Lady Wife, when faced with the options."

Your memory remains sharp and does not betray you.

Whore of Winterfell, or Lady Bolton?

You still failed to find the distinction.

"You will be more than a-" Roose made a sour face "-womb to pop sons into. In time. I'll be sure of it," he said matter of factly.

You eyed him cynically, unsure of what he meant by that, reminding yourself over and over that this was the very same man who tortures people for fun, who aims to kill everyone who was once near and dear to you, who tries endlessly to tame you and kill your spirits.

If he means to kill your spirits, he better be a persistent man. Because he can toy with you all he wants but you refuse to let him destroy you the way his bastard did Theon Greyjoy.

You closed your eyes as your husband leaned in to plant a kiss to your jaw, trying not to show any visible sign of arousal or discomfort. But it was difficult not to react to the feeling of his rough finger, meeting you at your wrist and ghosting along the back of your hand.

Looking at the ground first, you slowly turned your gaze up at him, staring at him through your lashes. And despite the fact that he had touched you in much more intense, unspeakable ways every night for the past few moons, you found your heart's beat growing increasingly heavy.

Roose's eyes fixated on your lips, the ghost of a smile twitching for a second as if he had just thought of something that amused him. Then he met your eyes again, appreciating that he could always read you. He could always tell. The breathing, the way your eyes looked heavier, the way your lips slightly parted for your little tiny gasps and sighs. He could read you like a book.

He pulled away from you, calmly walking toward the bed as he began undoing some of his clothes and you were left, staring dumbly at the spot he was just in.

When you finally regained the wits to look at him, he quirked his head to the side, "Come to bed."

Before you could even think of anything intelligent to say, your body obeyed him.

—————

You groaned. Or you think you should call it that. In reality it was a noise that you didn't even think yourself capable of making — something feral and more animal than human, but he'd also never taken you like that before.

It had been a week since that very very strange and unexplainable conversation with your husband in your bedchambers, in which he told you of his expectations for his lady wife. Ever since, he's been just slightly different.

It would have barely been noticeable for anyone else but you were his wife and you were his prisoner. He was the only man you saw every day.

He took you to bed with a different sort of energy. Sometimes it felt slower but even when he went fast, you felt he was more grabby and handsy.

One thing you noticed, that started to make your knees weak, was he seemed to take a liking to placing a hand on your belly, or more accurately your womb. He paid stronger attention to your tits as well, liking to suck your nipples into his mouth and nip gently at them to send shocks of pleasure and pain rippling through you.

Today, was the first time he'd fucked you during the day time. The moment you woke up, laying with his arms around you, back pressed against his, you felt his lips on your shoulder.

He fucked you as the two of you lay sideways on the bed.

He held your belly with one hand, grasped your shoulder with the other, and used the leverage to pump his cock into more efficiently. You bit your lip so hard you tasted your own blood trying to hide your noises. They eventually came out as they always did but this time you squeaked uncontrollably, real, wanton moans escaping you.

The unhuman sound you'd made was when Roose finally pumped you full of his spend. After which, he pulled out, letting his cum drip down your thigh and onto the bed.

You laid there, still recovering from the intensity because he barely waited for you to gain awareness before filling you. And by the time you lifted your upper body off the bed, looked around the room, and found him, he was kneeling back down on the bed, a rag in hand. Roose cleaned the mess up efficiently and then tossed the dirtied rag on the dirtied sheets next to you.

You watched, curious. You find that its the commonality in your interactions with Roose. You watch each other. You learn each other. And you've been watching more because his sudden inclination towards gentleness has struck you.

True to the thoughts you were having about him, he chuckled fondly at the sight of your big eyes evaluating his every move, gave your ass a squeee, and stood to get to his clothes.

This was the only time, you swore, that you would ever allow yourself to appreciate your husband's body. After this, you would close your eyes, tear them out of their sockets, if they even dared to rake down to his surprisingly tight ass on any occasion but this one, isolated, self indulgent moment. You were sure to look back, straight into his eyes once he turned back around.

He shamelessly gave you the same self indulgent up and down, appreciating the image of his wife, fucked out— a mess— first thing in the morning.

"Come," he beckoned, "Get dressed."

You think you furrowed your brows on accident because he picked up on your confusion.

"You'll sit with my advisors as we discuss governance from now on. There's no reason Lady Bolton should be confined to her chambers."

—————

New freedoms were granted to you every day. It started with being invited to sit with and counsel Roose alongside his advisors. Some days you would ride with Roose, which must seem like a great amount of trust placed in you but of course Roose would always bring along one or two of his best hunters in case you felt the urge to run. You were the human equivalent of a leashed dog, really.

That’s how you reminded yourself that you’re not in a good place. Because at times it was getting difficult to remember you were a prisoner, as your cage became prettier and wider with more and more playthings and distractions to keep you busy.

It was especially difficult to remember, walking through the courtyards from your childhood, arm laced in your husbands. It was the type of thing youd watch your Lord and Lady Paramount do, staring in loving envy of their bond. You found it difficult to rip yourself from the moment and carry on the bitterness that used to define your days when shared glances and discreet touches culminated in the rare, indulgent kiss once the meeting concluded. No you couldnt remember to hate him when he touched your face and granted a soft, lingering kiss as soon as his councilmembers scurried out of the room.

And the nightly passions never ceased either.

You lay one night, settled into his side as he lay on his back. Your cheek rested on his chest and your hand toyed with the little bit of hair in his stomach. For the first time, you think about killing him, really plotting a plan and finding a way to do it and youre dreadfully unwilling to think on it further. You cant help but wonder if you’ve truly lost.

But your mind is calm, it feels like its full of cotton, so clouded whenever you tilt your head to sneak a goance at Roose, who you really quickly realize is just watching and studying you, playing with the ends of your hair mindlessly.

"Do you remember when you visited me at Harrenhall?"

Yes you do. Of course you did. You remember telling Talisa that you still love her and Robb and that she should do her best to advise him and keep him grounded no matter how stubborn he gets. You were hoping to return and sit back upon Robbs council afterward.

He just frustrated you sometimes. So unwilling to accept criticism at times.

Even so, treachery never even crossed your mind as an option

"Yes?"

"I had always found myself wondering why," Roose spoke, only a little unsure and you hadn't caught on to the subtle difference in his usual tone.

You were too busy wondering what kind of game he was playing — if this just happened to be some kind of trick. Why was Roose leading you down memory lane? Hes not exactly a man known for his gooey sentiment. You could only imagine he means to remind you how much he's managed to change you since then.

"I..." You hesitated. Because really, it all felt too dreadfully awkward. But nevertheless you felt inclined to tell the truth. It was somewhat out of spite, a way to say — I truly respected you and you never reciprocated. Though you doubt he'd even care. "I had always enjoyed your presence, my lord."

Roose was silent so you took that to mean he wanted you to continue.

Thinking for a few seconds, you laughed at your own past foolishness, "I just... I wanted to see an old friend. I missed seeing you at the King's Table."

Really thinking back, it was a rather anxious time for you. You thought perhaps you were going crazy. You really just wanted to talk to someone who might understand though even during your visit, you never managed to broach the subject with Roose. Rather you spent your days going to his receptions, dining with him, reading when he needed to focus but otherwise babbling his ear off.

You were anxious thinking of the possible outcomes of the war. In reality, this was when you began to waver in your faith that Robb could win the war. There was nasty division in his ranks over his marriage, over his handling of the Kingslayer. They were all losing faith in the King.

You were anxious trying to think of any way to fix it. Roose had been on your side more than not, though you had your occasional disagreements. You had hoped he'd be a good person to bounce ideas off of.

But he changed the topic every time you mentioned Robb.

You had been too naive to notice and wonder why.

"When did you realize?" You asked, "That... that Robb had lost the war?"

Roose felt you look up at him so he met your eyes. He closed his parted lips, swallowing at the sight of you in the warm, dim light that the fire casted in the room. Just a year ago, Roose could hardly conceive something so sweet existing in this world. The one good thing to come from House Stark.

His hand came up to pet your hair and you involuntarily sank into his chest, averting your gaze. "It wasn't any particular moment that caused me to realize... many poor decisions, many displays of arrogance."

He tucked your hair behind your ear and his hands came down, trailing over your jaw to settle in a position cupping your cheek.

"I realized I did not want to die for a boys many mistakes, because he refused to listen to his advisors. I did not want to follow a King who was less reasonable than a girl, younger than he. Because if that girl could understand better than he, what kind of king would that make him? And I realized he would certainly lead that girl to her death."

You thought on his words cautiously. The first parts made sense but the implication that he had considered you and what would happen to you at length through all his plotting confused you. "Why..." But the several questions you had jumbled together in your head and you couldn't start.

"Everything I have done is for the betterment of my house and the North. I thought, fundamentally, we are the same in this way. At some point I found myself conceding that you and I, though it is not immediately obvious, are like-minded individuals."

"The betterment of the North..." You muttered, not being able to help the bitter tone in your voice. You just… didn’t believe that his motives were truly selfless.

"You don't mean to really tell me you disagree. The boy would have led us all to our deaths. When I realized, I'm not sure. But I know that when I realize I'm fighting on the losing side, it is better to mitigate the loses. For everyone involved."

"And why save me then?"

Roose paused, looking down at you again. You stared up at him, wide eyed, curious. And he couldn't help the smirk, though it depends on how you choose to look at it — it was one of his more fond smirks that held the confidence and self satisfaction that it always did, but also a sense of contentedness.

You were laying there, on his chest, staring up at him and you've never looked more like you were completely and wholly his. Contentedness was the only thing he knew in that moment.

"There was a time I looked at you and felt nothing but perplexed. Often I'd rather do without the confusion so I thought it better to let you die."

You scoffed.

But Roose continued, "Then the frustration became a different flavor once you began approaching me more. I began thinking that perhaps under better circumstances I could have waited, then asked our King to approve my asking your hand in marriage."

A touch of cynicism caused you to say, "Oh, don't tell me it's because you love me."

"No," Roose answered calmly, lips quirking up in amusement, "But I knew you were the most fit for the title of Wardeness of the North. More than any other woman."

"And?"

He looked at you, a question in his eyes.

"And you wanted to fuck me. You forgot that part," You continued to stare at him challengingly.

"Yes, more than any other woman." And again it was his absolute lack of shame and frankness that caused you to acquiesce and hide your warm face back in his chest. "So did you," he said as if it were some casual reminder and not a gross accusation, which was how you took it.

You propped yourself up on your elbow so that you could properly stare at him with the incredulous look that had spread across your face. "A man without shame."

"Don't pretend. You forget I've had two wives before you," Roose said, eyes raking down. Your chest was tantalizingly pressed against the bed and it made them look bigger than they already were. "I've had two women who lay still under me as they reluctantly performed their duties. You are not one of those women. Not even the first night."

Your eyes hardened in a glare at your husband but for whatever reason, your traitorous, degenerate body never failed to respond to Roose Bolton. Your body truly served him and not your own mind. Or perhaps it served your treacherous heart which never seemed to be within your control when he was nearby.

"I'll always remember how you squirmed against me. Even I was shocked."

Scoffing, you spit out "Oh you're happy about it."

"I am," He spoke, ever so frank, "It's not common for lords of my age to find such a beautiful young wife so willing to let me into her bed." He strokes your face a little and you tense despite wanting nothing but to melt into his hand, "But you... well your mouth remains as stubborn as your mind. But your eyes give it away. Your eyes beg for me."

You sighed, imagining. Because though you tried to glare at him you wondered if he wasn't bluffing — if he could truly see something else in your gaze. So you just huff and turn your face away, settling back into his side in silent admission of defeat.

Roose Bolton chuckled beneath you, a real chuckle. His hand wrapped around your shoulder, caressing you with some real tenderness behind it. You suppose out of all the outcomes available, you could have been worse off.

—————

One morning many days later struck you hard. Right when You rose from bed, you ran to your chamberpot and emptied your stomach of last nights dinner. You were sure that it was finally what you had been hoping for — a pregnancy. And though you were really hoping for that to be the case merely a week ago, hoping it might give you some relief from your husband, you no longer really feel that way for some reason.

Its for the best, You think to yourself. You'll tell him of it and he'll be happy. He'll praise you for doing your duty as Lady Bolton and you'll be free of him from your bed for the next nine months. In that time, you can surely teach yourself to truly and deeply hate him again, as you used to. You just need to realize that thats still what you want.

To get through the day, you passed a note to a cupbearer for your husband, telling him you felt ill and would not be leaving your room. You had the maester bring you a potion to help with the sickness. He told you, he was positively certain that you were with child.

Later that night, when your husband entered your room, he made for the table immediately and sat, leaning back and sighing. The only bit of respite in the day. He was happy to see you after such a long day with no rest.

You poured him a glass of water and he hummed, thanking you for it. He was in a chipper mood. He was tired, but you could tell his shoulders were relaxed. You wondered if the maester already informed him.

"I woke up this morning. Feeling ill," you told him, "I talked to the maester..."

You watched him regard you with interest and a small smirk graces his face, "Did you?" And he patted his thigh.

You look at him inquisitively because never in all your time together has he made that request. And with a pause, you huffed and stood to obey, settling yourself in your husbands lap. "He said it's entirely likely I could be with child."

Roose made a satisfied grunt and played with your hair, pushing it out of your face.

You let him. You were confused but you let him. You were especially confused when he landed a kiss on your lips, tender and loving and with the usual fervor that marks his kisses.

Roose pulled away after a few short seconds and said, "I was wondering when the sickness would start," he smirked deviously, lips still brushing yours.

You stared back bewildered. He had been wondering, as in he was wondering before today, when your sickness might start, meaning he knew already? Or was that simply a poorly worded phrase?

"I had the maester inspect your chamber pot daily. I would be the first to know when you would have come to be with child."

"How long have you—"

"Three weeks."

And you just scoffed to yourself, shaking your head incredulously.

"Whats wrong?" Roose laughed, finding himself amused with your reaction.

"I... I was under the impression that we would... stop… being sexual once I came to be with child. But obviously not."

"What gave you that impression?"

"I—" You paused fully and thought on it.

Nothing. Nothing really gave you that impression other than the fact that all he talked about was siring an heir and all that your septas taught you about being intimate with a man were in relation to siring an heir. No one had taught you about how it could feel good for a woman. All you had ever heard was how it feels amazing for men. You suppose the logical conclusion would be that he'd continue to bed you for his own benefit but alas when you grow up with the notion of bedding only for procreation, the notion sticks.

"I suppose I've never heard of husband and wife fucking for pleasure. Husbands seek whores after their wife grows fat with a child."

"Are you disappointed?” Roose’s voice was filled with amusement at your naivete.

No— Yes!

... in between. You struggle to answer because yes you are disappointed because this all has been rather taxing on your mind. It's not easy to keep your composure and wits around Roose when he's toying with you, especially when your memory of the previous night flashes in your head. It's difficult to remind yourself who the enemy in the room is. It's difficult to remember why he's your enemy. After all, he saved you, didn't he?

Yes theres the complication. Was this man your enemy? Did you truly disagree with his actions? Can you not rectify his decisions in your mind? You know you wouldn't have done what he did, not in a million years... but you don't know what it is — your likeness in logical thinking or the mere fact that you've grown strangely fond of him over the past years — you can't condemn him for the actions he took against your King. You only disliked him because that King was your brother.

You don't know the answer. The correct answer, some would say is clear, but others would argue that there is no correct answer, only the illusion of correctness placed upon you by those that came before.

And so you don't answer.

You just kissed him again.

And you fumbled, reaching down to unlace his cock. You pulled him out, pulling away from him. And he watched you, breathless as you also did away with your under garments.

Quicker and more assuredly than any previous night, you mounted him and seated him deep inside, both of you groaning out.

The position was foreign to you but you grew accustomed quickly, rolling your hips, grabbing the back of the chair for help as you began to rise and fall. You were used to being on your stomach or your back. Sometimes he even took you against the table. But this was the first time you were on top. By how his mouth remained gently agape as he pushed your nightgown gently down your shoulders, you would wager and say the change is welcome.

"These will grow swollen in time, just as your belly swells with my son," Roose teased. You shuddered as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and sending waves of shock through you.

His arms came around your situating at your waist, holding you close. And he began moving you to help you bounce on him. As his thick cock glided through you, you couldn't help but feel you were right where you belonged.