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icantdothistodaybruh · 11 days

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oh, are you familiar with the BoM side story? where arthur dreams of different characters in different fairy tales? i’ve become so! obsessed! with the snow queen versions of sebaciel. ciels outfit is so pretty on him!! but i love a ciel that left everything behind to stay with sebastian.. and sebastian, he’s been so lonely for so long that when he gets a pretty boy he can’t let him go. when someone tries to save him they not only get a “no” but get forcefully snow-blasted right out the door. they understand each other because no one sees the beauty in desolation like they do… so of course they stay isolated in a castle together.

there’s the panel where sebastian’s wrapping his coat around ciels whole body… sebastian acting so smugly to ciels rescuers… the line where ciel says he belongs to the devil… i could live here forever… please consider this cold angle of sebaciel

I AM! AND IT'S ONE OF MY FAVE EXTRAS OUT THERE!!

The implication that the whole dream was of Sebastian's doing (which he is very capable of judging by GWA) brings out such an interesting twist to it - we can see a glimpse of Sebastian's actual opinion on other characters! But I'm of course going to talk a little about Ciel solely for today hehe

I might be wrong since I only have ru and eng translation at hand, but the way Ciel talks about his heart being frozen and eye belonging to the devil makes me think of these acts as essentially same thing, especially given that he "adapted beautifully to the world of Ice" by Sebastian's words. I mean that his heart being frozen doesn't equal to death or inability to feel, but rather just that, adaptation and belonging.

Now I know it sounded far-fetched, but the reason It caught my attention in the first place was the mentioning of the heart at all. It's a dream made by Sebastian, the 'emotionless' and 'unfeeling' demon, with clear analogy to the contract built on power, revenge, and hunger for one's soul, or at least that is how it always was portrayed before. So why would his made up dream-Ciel suddenly bring a heart into equation?

You should've seen my face when I got to the chapter were Elizabeth escapes to rCiel. Call me delulu but it suddenly made so much sense when Sebastian started talking how "human hearts are mysterious, complex things" and "no matter if you are demon or god it is truly and utterly impossible to shackle another's heart." Before that I wouldn't even think he'd have any opinion on the matters of the heart, let alone it be a stated fact to him that he can't have it in a way he can own souls or bodies.

And so that man, in his made up dream, with a made up Ciel, made that Ciel say that not only his soul (eye) belongs to the devil, but heart too. Knowing for a fact it can't belong to him in reality. I'm speechless.

Also when I got your ask yesterday I thought I should make a fanart or a redraw of that scene, and once again, you should've seen my face when I found the page:

and if you don't know why I was so surprised I'll gladly explain with two more pics:

My head exploded.

Three pieces. Representing their change of masks and roles. Yet each is the same in it's core. And one of them is character's fantasy while other two his reality. I'm so done with this show.

...could it be that Arthur's dream made by Sebastian is yet another lie becoming truth?...

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #sorry if it doesn't make sense I did my best #Writing such long posts is kinda new to me so for all the errors that are bound to be present sorry again #English isn't my first language be nice to me🥲#sebaciel #kuroshitsuji #black butler #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #text

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iamhereinthebg · 5 days

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I will never be over the fact that tbhk really takes place in 2015

We know that AidaIro published the first chapter in December 2014

The Yugi Twins were in the 66th Festival in 1968 and the curent present have the 113th Festival.

On this panel, it's written that the 1st of September was a Tuesday. The closest years to the manga airing having this date being either 2009 or 2015.

Bonus:

Which means: the 1st year (Aoi, Akane, Nene) were born in 1999, Teru in 1998 and Kou and Mitsuba in 2000.

#toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #jshk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #that's a mini stuff but my timeline heart lover is happy #I fcking hate tbhk bc their timeline is a mess #makes no sense and It makes me wanna cry #Teru and Akane's meeting make no sense (probably just errors during the creation of the panels #so it's fair) but it stresses me out sm #yashiro nene #aoi akane #akane aoi #they are born the same year as me I am in tears help #they are ten times younger than me in my head #we knew it was probably either 2014 or 2015 but lil hints are always fun #since I had a big lost of interest in the festival arc (and I don't like the Yugi twins backstory) I didn't connect the dots help #I did with the date :'))#2015 really explain Teru's horrible fashion sense #but in the end the manga has tons of anachronisms but it's normal the date is not that important #it's just funny #the last image is badly edited and translated bc it's in french at first idk why I couldn't find an english website with this

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mammonsfeatheraccessories · 1 year

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possession

summary: a demon has come to visit you in the middle of the night. how lucky are you?

pairing: lucifer/gender-neutral, AFAB reader

genre: smut

cw: consensual fear play, mild degradation, religious undertones in some places, lucifer’s demonic features (including tongue/genitalia) and mentions of the blood/violence demons are capable of (but not toward reader), oral sex (reader receiving)

***

the lights blink, more than they flicker.

slow and deliberate, staring down at you as if you had, in some unknown, grave way, disappointed them.

the air was colder, too. it yoked the warmth from your flesh and left you too chilled to properly shiver. your pillows, your blanket, the soft loving nest of your bed were suddenly suffocating, scratchy and tight and you wondered how you’d ever been able to sleep there. you untangled yourself from them, gasping for air that turned to ice in your lungs:

the lamps gave you one final, lengthy glare, before the light was snuffed out, and not even the moon could reach in to guide you.

footsteps replaced the rhythm of the lights; they clicked despite the carpet beneath them. they were meant to be heard. you were meant to be frightened.

they stopped at the edge of your bed. suddenly, the ring you wore on your left hand glowed a harsh and striking blue. it sought permission, or perhaps even approval, it’s brilliance puffing like peacock feathers in the black night.

the quick, assuring jerk of your chin was all that he needed.

“didn’t anyone ever tell you?” cold fingers danced over your exposed ankle, before forming a tight and painful coil. a rough tug yanked you to the edge of your bed. “uncovered limbs invite the monsters into your bed.”

now that he wanted to be seen, he gave off a gentle glow, almost angelic in the way he lit up the room. how strange it was to see him handle you so roughly; his strong hands were built to be clasped in prayer. how awful that his eyes sliced you to pieces under his knowing gaze; they were so beautiful when gazing at the heavenly skies.

his beauty almost soothed you. he was meant to be looked at. created to be adored, but then broken down to be feared. his crimson eyes were framed by his thick, dark lashes. they were the color of fresh blood. his lips, stern-set but sweetly pink, were parted by the sharp points of his fangs. his face. his lovely, perfect face, marked only by the diamond etched onto his forehead — how was it possible for it to twist with such fury, the way it did now?

but that was where it ended, his similarity to the angels.

for next there was the curve of his onyx horns. from experience you knew the tips were sharp as needles. they would draw blood, even on accident. they were not meant to protect the demon — they were meant to gore. to gut. to hunt.

the feathers of his wings were said to contain an immense power, bringing an exacting savagery to any hex or curse or potion even the weakest sorcerer might conjure. but you couldn’t imagine him letting a single feather fall without consequence.

spread before you now, the span of his wings enveloped your vision, the frame to the exquisite portrait of his nude body. once divine and entirely wicked, your eyes could not help but wander from the prideful lift of his chin to the gleaming expanse of his chest. his skin looked so soft. so soft, even stretched over tight muscles, cold blood and eons of unveiled rage.

he must have kept all that in his dick. it demanded respect, swinging heavy between his thick thighs, the bulbous tip shining a pretty metallic teal, darkening indigo to black as it reached the base. the underside was scaled. it looked smooth, oddly vulnerable. the valley of bumps that formed over his shaft were fun to traverse with your tongue. he was already erect, impatiently so, and it was the one tell in the whole scene, the crack in the facade of your mock corruption; damn it, how he had missed you.

your hands trembled, sought creature comfort in the sheets bunched in between your fingers. he tugged you even closer to the edge of the bed and spread your legs wide.

his nostrils flared, his pupils constricted. your cheeks warmed up in shame, already knowing where this was heading. “this excites you. i can smell it.” he clicked his tongue. “humans are vile. predictable. and worst of all, they are weak.”

and so he went to prove it.

you were wearing shorts to bed. you were pretty sure you’d worn panties, too. now they were gone. you hadn’t heard them tear, you hadn’t felt the slide of them down your legs, nor had you lifted your arms for the removal of your shirt, but you were exposed, needy, and utterly humiliated in a matter of seconds.

“congratulations,” he spoke, eyes to roaming over your form almost distractedly, petting your thigh before sinking to his knees. he slipped his fingers between your legs, coating them in your juices. “you have one of the most powerful beings in all three realms kneeling before you.” a smirk overtook his features as you watched him play with the mess you made, eyes catching yours to mock you. “aren’t you proud of yourself?”

you couldn’t speak. his skilled fingers found your clit and coaxed it to come out and say hello. “so cute,” he sighed, circling it with his thumb. “i hope your pussy is as obedient as you are.”

shit. your legs tried to close, flames licking a little too hot in the pit of your stomach. he’d be pissed if you came this early, not when he’d traveled such a long way.

but you couldn’t move at all. he’d paralyzed you — when? you hadn’t heard him cast any spell. you could only watch him, wide-eyed and nervous when he let his tongue unfurl before you.

you considered it the most demonic thing about him, both in its appearance and what he made it do. it was long, navy and pointed, slick where he’d allowed saliva to pool and drip over your pussy.

he was every bit the monster in your closet, coming out to devour you whole, his fangs glinting brilliant and evil as he teased you with their proximity to your most vulnerable place. he turned his face, reaching under you to pull you closer to him, legs draped over his shoulders. the tops of his teeth gently grazed the inside of your thigh, a simple reminder: he could kill you from here, kneeled between your legs like a supplicant.

but then his tongue soothed over the spot, even though he hadn’t bitten down. he sucked kisses into your skin that were maybe a bit too reverent for a demon trying to steal your soul. he caught himself and firmly corrected it, sinking his nails into the fat of your thighs. they were more like claws, and you gasped at piercing sensation. it made you so much wetter, and him so much cockier, the fragility of a useless, desperate human making his mouth water.

“look at me,” he demanded, and your body complied without thought. so you could move, as long as he willed it, similar to the way you could control him under your pact. how odd. how freeing. “you’re mine,” he said, eyes flashing something ancient and primal. “i don’t kneel for just anyone. you understand that, don’t you? nod. let me see that you understand.”

you nodded.

“good human,” he grunted, then finally lowered his face.

ah. ahh. the lights came on again when he tasted you the first time, then shut off with a bang. his tongue dipped inside of you and moved, unnervingly dexterous and all-knowing, dragging your slick juices to your clit to suck it the way he knew you liked best.

lucifer was a methodical demon. he knew nothing other than to give his very best. which was why it was so hot that he sometimes lost himself in you, dragging down by your hips to bury his face in your cunt when he was supposed to be teasing you. it was hotter still that he’d turn around and blame you for it — he could do no wrong, after all — clearly you needed to be punished — clearly you’d have to try again, and don’t cum this time, be good for him —

his tongue could reach places even his talented fingers couldn’t. it was your downfall every single time you did this. by now you’d learned that in this act alone, lucifer would purposely set you up to fail because he liked it when you did. you’d know the moment he’d grown too frustrated at not being inside you, because suddenly his vicious tongue would lash out with such ferocity it made your very atoms submit to him, twisting, and curling inside you as he lapped at your g-spot, how the fuck-

maybe he’d lost too much focus or your own power had broken through the barrier, but your hips flew up when your orgasm finally crashed through you, painting his clever tongue as your walls pulsed around the wiggling muscle. you clutched his horns and rode his face until it was too much, and it wasn’t until you caught your breath that you realized you’d both failed this roleplay, but it was going to be your problem.

for he was still kneeling between your legs, glaring at you, annoyed.

“i see you have yet to learn your place,” he chided, drawing himself to his full height. now he towered before you, monstrous cock bobbing in front of your swollen mouth.

“i think it’s time you kneel for me.”

#asdgksajda it’s been years since i’ve written and i’m self conscious but i miss it #not edited and written on my phone 😬 so bound to be full of errors #i’m also not a luci simp so i’m surprised he’s the first one i’ve written something spicy about?#anyway #hope it’s ok!!!#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me x mc

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mari-lair · 4 months

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your posts about this newest chapter are so real because it disappointed me so much.

It was way too lighthearted and just seemed like a huge joke. I was expecting the trial to have suspense where you can really feel for the characters and wonder what will happen next, but it just ended up being comedic. It was funny, I’ll give it that, but I really really wanted some angst.

This may just be me, but Teru felt so out of canon to me. I can understand him putting on that “flawless student council” mask but it feels odd considering he is around mostly supernaturals. He is shown to be very intelligent and considering he is an exorcist and they are school mysteries why tf would that “look at how beautiful I am I could never” argument work. It was funny, sure, but just seemed out of canon for him.

Akane felt a little out of canon too to me? Probably not but he seemed to fully accept his role as a judge with little to no guilt at all. We don’t really get him looking guiltily at Teru or feeling frustrated, he’s just kind of there. Probably because (as always) the story focused on Hanako, Yashiro, and Tsukasa.

NOW UGHH TSUKASA IS SO FAVORITED ITS PAINFUL. You’re telling me after all that suspense around the clock keepers he takes them out in TWO PANELS. The clock keepers seem like a fucking joke in this chapter instead of the powerful mysterious beings they have shown to be previously.

Overall I expected something much more satisfying and I hope next chapter will be a little better because the last chapter got me so excited for nothing.

just my opinion though, I know some people enjoyed this chapter and that’s totally ok! just not my personal favorite

That's a mood ya-rr-ow. Big mood.

Many people enjoyed the chapter, and I'm happy for them, but I was also majorly disappointed so I'll talk about what you mentioned here and add some other things.

(I will just focus on the negatives here so if you're feeling hyped about the chapter. I am sorry, I wouldn't recommend reading this)

Okay let's go

Chapter 108 went out of its way to create a tense atmosphere, it was mostly a set up and hype piece for the trial.

Mirai was a beast, but Akane was the one that really set up the tone. He had the power to make Teru harmless, which only hyped up the other clock keepers since he is the lowest ranking keeper. Mirai and Kako's supposed power was said to be dangerous enough to make Akane, who hates supernaturals and is so firm in his beliefs, feel cornered, switch sides to 'do his duties', his vague words hinting that there is more to this trial than it seems on the surface.

So I don't think we were being delusional to expect this trial to be dramatic. To have angst. Or at least, character dept. To be important.

But despite the trial being the title, the spotlight, we got none of it: Not only is the trial treated as a joke, which I already don't vibe with considering how tense the atmosphere in chapter 108 is. It is an empty joke.

It doesn't teach us anything about the characters, it doesn't give any new information. Nothing.

Hanako's trial was a gag. He isn't even my priority character, but considering how he have the title of 'leader of the mysteries' and had been put on trial before for the Yorishiro's destruction, it is a baffling choice to make Kako not mention this big BIG crime when judging him.

Nene's trial 'revealed' she likes Hanako and want to confess to him. Which she has been doing this whole manga.

We could talk about her time crimes (every time travel that made her meet Amane), try to bargain her lifespan since this is the main conflict in the story and they are talking to the keepers of time. They could talk about her crime of helping to destroy the yorishiros with Hanako, or just acknowledge she is still a threat since she is the Kannagi, the only one capable of ripping their yorishiro in the first place. But no, those are stupid, let's spend 4 full pages of a monthly manga to tease a confession she already did in the very previous chapter.

Teru revealed he has some craving for destruction on him. Which surprise, surprise! It also isn't new information! How nice!

( I talked about his love for the idea of destruction and how it's almost an escapism recently, here you go if you're curious)

About Teru and Akane's acting weird. That's not them being ooc, that's Aidairo making a narrative choice to not take anything serious, including his own characters. Everyone is acting like themselves, and nothing contradicts what has been established about their personalities, but their competence has been drastically downgraded to move the plot quickly.

Teru has the bad habit of becoming pathetic when he has strong feelings, like locking himself in his room and hiding under the covers after his fight with Kou, immediately hitting Akane's stab wound when he is too late to rescue aoi cause the situation stressed him. So it is in character that he wants to kill Akane, who has always been his stress relief.

However, because Teru takes things so personally, and it was stablished in chapter 108 that Teru is way more bothered by Akane's betrayal than being in a court of law, it makes no sense that he treat it as a normal court instead of using his very obvious alibi that he couldn't destroy the clock because he was with Akane. Teru doesn't turn this court into the confrontation that would bring attention to their split up, doesn't go "Are you doing to deny my alibi now?? betray me again??" or question "So? We are here! Why did it had to be now??" or anything that builds up on the last chapter to expand it.

Cause Aidairo decided the court doesn't matter. The build up doesn't matter. Once more, the consequences are an afterthought. We don't need the answers to anything.

Akane is still guilty, he can't look at Teru in the eye, can't defend him, but he goes "!!!" when Teru finally calls for him, paying full attention.

But this is comedic. And as i mentioned above, Teru doesn't say anything useful, anything with more depth than what we already know: that he is angry by Akane's betrayal and hasn't forgiven him.

We TRULY are given nothing in this trial.

Which is insane, cause even the promo art had details to build intrigue, a vague idea that while the chapter would be comedic in nature, it would explain more about the clock keepers, or at least expand on their boundaries.

Like, what are those numbers on the scale? will they be judged by year? Will a lie make their time be stolen? oooh what could it be! Can't wait for the chapter!

And the chapter comes, and there is nothing. The whole trial feels like filler. They treated the audience as a fool for being excited.

That's why this big twist at the end? I don't care.

As you said Tsukasa is overpowered, they are Aidairo's golden child. And they will break established lore rules and make a joke out of everyone else just cause he can.

It's not just Teru and Akane who were nerfed to make the plot move faster, not allowed to have any proper focus. The clock keepers were also a joke, acting 'in character' but more incompetent than they have been stablished to be.

Tsukasa op moment doesn't make me go "wow he is so cool" it made me look at the clock keepers and go "You are all are stupid"

Cause Tsukasa has the judgment seal?? And he was already sentenced as guilty??? There are three clock keepers in the room too? So why not... you know... restrict him again...?

The clock keepers is a school rumor that was introduced all the way back in chapter 23. Like you said they are supposed to be super op! They are a mystery so hyped up that just Mirai's power (who isn't the strongest keeper) can throw the intire school into chaos in the Near Shore, where supernaturals are debuffed.

Even before Tsukasa attacked he made the clock keepers act incompetent, to make him look more mysterious and cool in comparison.

These very old and supposedly op school mysteries know Yugi Amane is Hanako, but they don't know who Amane's twin brother 'Tsukasa' is, they also don't refer to him as a yorishiro despite the seal being in his face, and use titles for every other character (Leader of the school mysteries. Kannagi. Student Body Representative)

Which might look like a small thing, silly nitpick, but it shows the favoritism isn't just for a twist. Aidairo naturally likes Tsukasa more than his own narrative, and is willing to make others be less competent for the sake of it.

I don't think Kako will die. That would objectively be bad writing at this point. He'll probably be back in the next chap, a la "teru got fucked up by No.6" and "Akane got stabbed by Aoi but he lives bitch" or even "i always had a ton of clones, like Mei of the art room" but it is still disappointing to see him and Mirai get fucked up in their own boundary after all the hype they have accumulated through the story.

There is a hint Akane can be a yorishiro at the end of the chapter, and that is cool, genuinely really cool, but I am tired of getting excited over possibilities and 'promises for the future'. I want something concrete.

Speaking of which, I don't think Akane will die. This is just another bait to keep reading like when No.6 slashed Teru, Kou, and Akane and we didn't get any answers for a few months before 'oh well nothing happened :) no consequences to be had here folks!'

"But Tsukasa has always killed everyone that he pulled the heart of! there is Mitsuba, and The puffer fish of the mermaid, and the previous No.3 (the bird)" And to that I say I trust Akane's ability to say fuck to fate.

My boy gets new death flags every year, he collects them like pokemon cards, you all should have gotten used to it.

He also survived his bae stabbing him, this isn't new. Sucks to be Tsukasa and die by a stab in the gut and all but Akane is built differently (quite literally with two bodies).

He is also in his own boundary, so if Aoi doesn't kill him while in the territory of another mystery, but he dies in No.1's boundary I will... idk probably just sigh.

In short, Aidairo treated this as joke, so I will treat their cliffhanger as one too. Give me reasons to care in chapter 110. Cause at the moment? I don't.

#is hot af so this must be full of grammar errors but oh well #EDIT: NOW IS NOT THAT HOT I ELABORATED ON TWO POINTS YAY #just let it be know i too am not vibing #if i feel salty is cause i am btw #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #tbhk 109 #jshk 109 #aoi akane #teru minamoto #hanako #tsukasa yugi #yashiro nene

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leofrith · 8 months

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[fic] honor bound

fandom: assassin’s creed: valhalla

characters: eivor/leofrith, ceolbert, sigurd, ivarr, ubba, dag, ceolwulf, more to be added

rating: mature

warnings: canon-typical violence, others listed by chapter

In the absence of her jarl, Eivor finds herself tasked with the care and keeping of her entire clan, the young heir to the Mercian throne, and a former thegn who appears to be more ghost than man. Betrayed by his king and left for dead, Leofrith is set adrift without a purpose and living among those he once called enemies. But as they both set out to right past wrongs, they find that the line dividing friend from foe is thinner than it seems, and that purpose—and companionship—can be found in unexpected places. OR Leofrith has a crisis of faith, joins the Hidden Ones, and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.

read here: chapter i

#assassin's creed #ac valhalla #eivor varinsdottir #leofrith #leovor #eivor varinsdóttir #eivor wolfkissed #eivor wolfsmal #i didn't actually mean to hit post on that draft just now i was only tinkering with it for the millionth time #but FUCK IT WE BALL #this one goes out to all the leofrith girlies. all five of us. 🥴#this fic has been rotting my brain since november and shows no signs of abating any time soon #i've never done a masterpost for a longfic before so this is gonna be a process of trial and error #and now i will log off or else i'll keep editing this thing forever and ever #honor bound #this is a writing tag

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muscosus · 1 year

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i did some math... and it turns out that a) excluding izutsumi who's 17, marcille is technically the youngest person in the group but since she's a half-elf and with irregular growth it's hard to estimate her age and b) even though senshi considers chilchuck a child, they're roughly the same age, to be exact - chilchuck is the OLDER one.

#i am basing all of this on the average lifespan of each race #so there's bound to be some error #but that's what the results told me #i worked out their ages in every race #and chilchuck was the oldest in every one of them #dungeon meshi #roro.txt

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ottimismocinico · 1 day

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OGNI CAZZO DI ANNO.

Il 25 aprile è una data assai strana, ci siamo liberati degli stronzi e a rimpiangerli son rimasti i somari e i figli della merda.

Tu che oggi non vuoi festeggiare il 25 aprile fai un po' come cazzo ti pare, in Veneto San Marco? Stocazzo altrove? Ecco festeggialo.

Sei libero di non festeggiare il 25 aprile.

Ma non perché c'è stato il 25 aprile, come comunemente si è portati a dire in maniera politicamente corretta, perché sempre erroneamente pensi che la formuletta sinceri democratici, la sinistra ZTL, i radical chic ti mettano al riparo da un po' di sana violenza politica.

Non è così, puoi ignorare i festeggiamenti del 25 aprile perché c'è stato il 22 giugno 1946.

Segnatela sta data.

Che è il giorno in cui, a seguito di pressioni interne ed esterne, è stata promulgata la cosiddetta:

"Amnistia Togliatti".

Altrimenti, che Iddio ti smerdi l'anima inutile miserabile vigliacco, si sarebbe operato in maniera meticolosa e sistematica, non senza una malcelata soddisfazione di vendetta, affinché per tutti i secoli a venire non ci sarebbe stato più nessuno che, avendo cara la vita propria e quella dei propri cari, avrebbe osato anche solo pensare di dire delle stronzate come quelle che tu fortunato sacco di merda sei libero di dire oggi.

Puoi anche non festeggiare il 25 aprile, ma ti conviene sempre festeggiare il 22 giugno e ringraziare Palmiro Togliatti.

Finché sei in tempo...

#antifa #you fascists are bound to lose #scambiarmi per un radical chic è un errore #poi fate i piangina #fascio fregnone #mai detto di essere un sincero democratico

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hungriestheidi · 10 months

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WAIT! ✋ I HAVE A REQUEST ☝️

85. “Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough.” - sebchal, sure, sure!

NIKKA YOU AIN'T SEEING HEAVEN EITHER. sorry it's angsty, this time i couldn't hold back *sobs with head in hands*

“Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough.”

He doesn’t mean to pause as he hears the words, he doesn’t mean for his hands to still, for his fingertips to grow cold and the cold to travel all the way inside his bones, to crawl around his blood vessels until everything inside of him is shivering, a lonely boy in a big field of snow, waiting for the storm to pass.

Charles doesn’t mean it to scold, he knows well, but… what is he without the tenderness of first loves, what is Sebastian in hours like this, when he’s sure the edges of his heart are softening and whatever Charles has offered cannot suffice the deep heart wrenching call of his soul?

Charles wanted to be untethered, cared for in the aspects of intimacy just friends can’t properly fill without cables getting crossed. wires cut. This is what he desired, this is what Sebastian wanted too when the world of this casual affection was first opened for him, sexual satisfaction without complications, terms and conditions carefully laid in between glasses of red on the table of his balcony, suggestive wording and eyebrow waggling.

But whatever situationships are, Sebastian doesn’t want them, not with Charles at least.

“Sorry,” he breathes, pressing a filthy kiss to his lips as an apology, wet and noisy and messy.

He makes the best of his efforts to put himself in motion again, grasps his thighs meanly, yanks him closer until Charles whines, thrusts into him once, twice, lets him drag his nails down his back, watches the color rush to his cheeks, his eyes shut tight and the pale column of his throat exposed as his body trembles. And then… then he stops again. The divinity of sex is both drenched in religious pretense and sinful disgrace and the point where both meet its anatema and heaven.

He puts his lips on Charles’ neck, drags them down his collarbones, melts into the space between his pecs, lets the drag of his beard still make Charles shiver, watches as he looks up how easily Charles whines, keens, feels his fingers tangled in his hair.

He kisses him, every inch of him, the moles he has mapped out with nails and teeth before but that now wants to dote on like he’s crawling up the valleys of a land unexplored, untainted, unmaimed. He wants this to last, this beauty of Charles’ body in between his arms that often feels like a recollection of a thousand other desires, tender domesticity he craves.

“Seb?” Charles’ voice sounds breathy, caught between a whisper and a coarse wake up call. “Seb, look at me.”

Sebastian looks up, his chin brushes Charles’ navel.

“What is happening?”

“I think I fucked up,” he tells him.

Charles’ eyes widen. He scrambles to lean on his elbows, straightening up.

“What? How?”

Sebastian sits on his haunches, watches from above the figure he’s known skin to skin for too long, soul to soul for even longer. In the expanse of Sebastian’s sheets he’s a god of pale blemished marble, a fallen angel with sweaty skin, feverish eyes.

“I forgot what you told me,” he confesses, “That this was casual”

Charles inhales sharply. “Seb”

“Charles,” he parrots back, name for name, a bit of honesty in trying times.

“Don’t… don’t call it… not now,” he says, voice titillating in the edge between terrified and surprised, his eyes looking at the space between their bodies, the sheets all scrambled under his legs.

He sits, properly, pushes his hands against his eyes, shakes his head, breathes out. When his eyes open, he is looking at Sebastian like he’s finding someone for the first time, a novelty in tangled bed sheets.

“Give me a moment,” he tells him and Sebastian nods, knowing he’s not really seeing him, he’s going through the edges of his mind, finding words to speak whatever it’s going inside of him, whatever turmoil Sebastian has thrown him face first into. “Just… kiss me again, please.”

Sebastian takes his hand in between his own, presses a gentle kiss to his knuckles and says “My pleasure.”

#it's just mild angst it'd probably get a happy ending if it were longer #i may just make it longer some day #myfic #asks #nikka tag #sebchal #nsf/w #obviously unbetaed so some errors are bound to happen jsjdjsjds

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