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beardedjoel · 8 months

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pretty little wife | better now

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

How’s my pretty little wife today?

The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.

Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.

You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.

You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.

“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.

“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.

“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?”

When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with.

Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.

“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.

“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him.

“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.

“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home.

“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second.

“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.

“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.

“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”

“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.

“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.

Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.

Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.

“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you.

Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you.

“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.

“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you.

Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.

“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard.

“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself.

“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch.

“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”

You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it.

“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs.

To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.

You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.

When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.

“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.

He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house.

“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”

“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.

“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”

With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for.

He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.

Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you.

“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.

“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit.

You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him.

When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.

“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.

“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.

“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.

“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.

“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure.

Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.

“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.

“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.

“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.

You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.

Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza.

He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.

“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.

“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.

tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x

#PLS DON'T LET THIS FLOP i'm very proud of it #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #x reader #pedro pascal character x reader

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ghostbsuter · 7 months

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Ghostbsuter's Masterlist!

Every prompt and idea (outside of the multiple parts: section) is free to use! Have fun. Feel free to credit me as well when you do.

Hey, want to support/commission art? See my etsy shop!

Want different content? Look at this !

・゜-: ✧ :-

Multiple parts:

Batclan and Catband

Selina is Danny's mom, recently got engaged to Bruce, and now they're meeting!

[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ]

The house of Nightingale & Constantine | #the house of Constantine and Nightingale have infinite beef

Batman called for help.

Now, with Phantom's help and Constantines, they might have a chance. If only he knew those two were rivals and enemies in terms of dark houses.

[ chapters: 1 | ] [ao3] (soon!)

[ snippets: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ]

[ chap 1 snap-shot ]

Wonder MOM

Danny is a godling, born from the stars and son of Diana. Batman rescued him from abduction, and that's how the JL finds out about the son of WW.

[ part 1 ]

Twins, minus the Demon

Demon Twins Au, Damian and Danyal are the sons of the bat, demon and cat.

Implied and referenced past/current Bruce/Selina/Talia throuple.

[ part 1 ]

Magicians way

Danny is the son of Zatanna and John, member of the Young Just us and well... sometimes things don't go as planned.

[ part 1 | 1/4 ]

Team effort

Danny is a member of the Teen Titans!

[ part 1 | part 2 soon! ]

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Stand alones:

Birthday present (read the reposts!) | (Martian appreciation)

High on fear (read the reposts!) | (ghosts really like emotions)

Joker's Jr. or not? | (danny being the son of joker and harley)

He's Danny | (Joker's Jr. or not? continuation)

Titan missing! | (phantom is teen titans member and amity got kidnapped)

Wingman | (steph x sam)

Dog-napped | (cujo at it again ft. baby assassin)

One way to crush | (Dani crushing on Lian)

Speed running romance | (Dick x Jazz x Babs)

The Fries | (Nora going ghost)

Arson and consequences | (Roy!!)

Babysitting trouble | (baby yeti outside!)

Visitation | (Sam and young justice)

Syn eclipse | (being chased)

Elephant | (beast boy trolling)

Sibling rivalry | (just dan and danny things)

Team Bonding!!! | (JL + Danny get kidnapped)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Bats!!

Prompts and snippets of adventures Danny has with various Bats.

College student shaped stray | (dami befriends teen dad danny)

Mom!cass | (time shenanigans end with conspiracy theories)

Calico (read the reposts!) | (nighttime activities as family bonding)

Paranoia | (bonding activity between Duke and Danny)

Harsh truth | (the plans start the moment Ra's fell)

Meta-child | (dick centric)

Villain magnet | (just danny being danny)

Sweet revenge | (danny and bruce)

Diplomatic immunity | (danny in gotham)

Little Brother | (Danny is a drake)

Another Cain | (Danny Cain)

Buying your own mercenary! | (Danny in his deadpool arc)

Grayson's stray | (one police officer picks up a kid)

Robin manifestation!Danny | (child of gotham)

Governmental shit that is (read the Reblogs!) | (dead tired)

1 (+3) new child | (scooby doo but its Danny-Johnny-Kitty-Ember and shadow)

Cell buddies | (Dami and Danny)

Its not a habit | (Tim and danny)

Keeping up with the waynes | (wes theories and denial)

Straying Twins | (demon twins)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

WONDER W

Prompts and snippets with the one and only! Wonder Woman!

Spiderman meme | (featuring Dani and Diana)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

SUPERS

Prompts and snippets with the local superfam

Metropolis | (hiding)

Twitter beef | (ft. Superman)

Super representative | (confused Clark kent)

New kid dropped | (they're so confused)

Fake it till u make it | (Jon dug his grave)

Civilian life | (danny is just trying to live)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

SPEEDSTERS!!!

Prompts and snippets of adventures Danny has with various Speedsters.

Bart & Danny | timetraveler & immortal (read the reposts!)

Bart & Danny | playdates

Barry & Danny | Found family via Villain

Bart/Danny | Crushing

Bart & Danny | displaced

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Godly shenanigans | #Billy and Danny are brothers in crime and losers in costumes

Prompts and snippets of Billy and Danny trying to survive in the world of adults.

JL's own trouble kids

Double the trouble

Pranksters in disguises

Grounded

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Anything with Connie

Prompts and snippets of various ways of Danny interacting with John Constantine.

Troubled and Dad shaped

Imprisoned but not dead?

Breaking in

Hell adventures

Zones

Rush hour

He when (head wanted, not alive)

Haunted menace

Nail polish

#masterlist #subscribe if ya wanna!#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #fic prompt

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clockwayswrites · 1 year

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Shadow of a Bat - Snippet

Since I teased the idea in the tags, here's what my brain wrote to avoid working on the scene for lbfd. Good news, got that chapter done and the chapter for ao3 edited- we are on track! So have a little bit of the one shot idea I had where an Eldritch!Danny stows away in Batman's shadow. This should be short (famous last words) so I might finish it up this week if I continue to have insomnia.

wc 306

“It is a beautiful sight, is it not?”

Diana asked the question without turning to look at the corner where the shadows were just a little too dark. In the faint reflection of the acrylic glass she saw the inky blackness shift slightly.

“It is alright little shade,” Diana said, keeping her voice carefully soft. “We know you are there. Batman has known for some weeks now that you have been with him as his shadow. He is, after all, truly a master detective.”

“I'm sorry.” The voice was faint, like hearing wind snatched words in a blustery day.

“Do you mean us any harm?” There was no accusation in the words, but still the shade jolted before pulling into themselves.

“No! No no no—”

“Then there was no harm done.”

Two spots of green appeared in the dark murk and flashed rapidly before focusing on Diana.

Eyes, she realized, and smiled as she turned to face the shade properly. “I am Wonder Woman.”

“Phantom.”

“Is that what you are?” Diana asked, gently.

“No. It's my name, kinda,” the shade said, curling tighter into the corner. The green eyes disappeared again. “My hero name.”

“You are a hero, little one?”

“I was. I tried to be.”

Diana gave a soft hum and returned to looking out of the window. She waited for the bright green eyes to reappear before she asked, “Is that how you came to be with Batman? During his hero work?”

“No. Yes?” There was a tilting to the shade. A tilt of a head, Diana realized. Little bits of the shade's form was becoming more distinct as it sat looking out the Watchtower window.

They were so small.

Just a child, Diana realized.

“He was in the lab.”

“The GIW lab?”

The shade pulled into itself so quickly it almost disappeared entirely.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #wonde woman #diana prince #do I need another idea?#no #did my brain supply one?#yes #pls let this actually be only one chapter #shadow of a bat

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thee-horny-thicky · 11 months

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Castaway

This is a snippet of a one-shot I'm working on, featuring merman Gyutaro lusting after a human! The whole thing will be posted on my Ao3 in a few days :)

Poor little human, all alone in the sea. It must be scary, floating adrift with no one to help you.

Lucky for you, you aren’t alone, nor are you without help. Since your sailboat floated into his territory, Gyutaro has gone out of his way to protect you, even against his sister.

“Why are you so interested in her?” Daki huffed as Gyutaro watched you mill about the deck. It’d how he’d begun to spend most of his days, watching you go about yours until you disappeared below the deck as the sunset. “She’s just a human.”

A pretty human, with decent survival skills and a body that’d be perfect to carry his pups.

He grunted but didn’t answer, resulting in his sister going on a spiel about how ‘plain’ and ‘weak’ you were. He ignored her.

He’d been working up the nerve to show himself to you, to initiate the courting process. Among his kind, mermaids, as you would call them, he was among the strongest but not the strongest. He wasn’t at the very top of the food chain, and his unsightly appearance made other potential mates recoil.

As he grew older, the need to breed grew stronger. He occasionally consorted with the others, but his sister was the only permanent member of his shiver.

Perhaps that was why he was so fascinated with you; he could sense that you’d be the perfect mate. Mating with humans, though frowned upon, wasn’t unheard of. There were even some instances of humans transforming into mermaids, which would solve the difference in ability and lifespan.

Benefits of being a ‘mythical’ creature, he supposed.

“Are you ever going to talk to her?” Daki sneered, her voice growing most hostile as Gyutaro continued to ignore her.

“Yes,” he quickly answered, anticipating finally getting to hear your voice up close.

He’s heard you singing and muttering to yourself, and the snippets of your voice that he’s gotten were heavenly.

He couldn’t wait until he heard it moaning his name.

“What if she rejects you?” she inquired, the singsong quality of her tone letting him know that was banking on that.

He shrugged. “Then I just take her.”

It wasn’t the ideal outcome, but he’d do whatever he had to make you his.

A/N: It's out now!

Story link

#demon slayer #gyutaro #yandere #yandere gyutaro #gyutaro x you #gyutaro x reader #Gyutaro #Daki #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #kny #merfolk #mermay #mermaid #merman #Gyutaro is so fine #you can fight me on this #because i will stand by it #That's my man fr

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r2d2lover · 7 months

Text

Cruel Reality

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x f!Reader (Third person insert, Draco's POV)

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Jealousy Sex, Fingering, Blowjobs, Draco's POV

Summary:

After a messy breakup, Draco still can't get his mind off of her.

Snippet of something that I'd like to turn into a fic one day but I always say that. Crossposted on Ao3!

Draco walked quickly down the corridor, the heat burning in his cheeks becoming unbearable. He couldn’t even hide his frustrated sighs and ran an aggressive hand through his hair. It wasn’t hard to ignore her desperate pleas calling out for Draco to stop. In fact, it made him walk faster, almost to the point of a run. He felt ridiculous for fleeing the dungeon halls and throwing a tantrum, but he felt justified. But at the same time, he knew he really wasn’t. He was the one who broke up with her. He was the one that had to make her hate him. He was the one that decided to be nosy and walk up the stairs to check on the other prefect sectors.

It was a day shy of it being a month since Draco had broken up with his girlfriend, but the time didn’t make the pain pass. He didn’t have the mental capacity to be mad at the forcing hand of his mother in the situation or the festering wound that was the Dark Mark. No, he was more upset that he walked in on his ex-girlfriend and Harry Potter, of all people, practically having sex in the shadows of the castle. Maybe Draco was exaggerating, but its not like he stuck around to figure out why Harry Potter had his ex pinned to the wall with a visible hand running up her sides. Draco couldn’t believe that this was what was getting him worked up. Not the still burning pain in his arm or the insomnia that left him with a permanent headache. He was pretty sure she was only running after him to try and save face. He almost laughed at the idea of her begging him not to report her and Potter that he almost stopped in the middle of the hall to let it happen. Draco didn’t regret his earlier comment about Potter’s sleaziness, but he really didn’t want to try to talk to her because he was sure that he would have an embarrassing breakdown.

Draco decided that he would hide in the bathroom until she gave up and leave when she’d realize that he wasn’t actually going to go to Snape or Filch to report the two. Unfortunately, she had caught up to him right before he reached the bathroom and grabbed his arm to stop him from opening the door, causing him to cringe in an impossible pain from the pressure she was putting on the Mark. Instead of crying out like he wanted to do, he tried his best to suppress a hiss and yank his arm away.

“Are you going to follow me into the toilet?” Draco instinctively brought his arm across his chest in an attempt to nurse the pain. He felt a little bad for the tone of voice that slipped out of his mouth from the pain, but it fit the image he was going for.

“If that’s what it’ll take for you to listen to me,” She said exasperatedly, looking rightfully concerned at his arm. “Is your arm alr-“

“Look, I’m not going to report you and your… new boyfriend if that’s what you’re worried about,” Draco said as coolly as possible. “Not worth my time.”

“I-“

“But really? Potter? Really lowering your standards, huh?” Draco jabbed, hoping it would do the trick in getting her to leave. She just let out a frustrated cry and pushed Draco up against the wall, shocking him so much that it made him forget about the pain in his arm.

“That’s the only thing you have to say to me? Do you get off on humiliating me? First the Great Hall, now this? If you hate me as much as you told everyone that you do, why can’t you just leave me alone?” She shot back, obviously spewing something she was keeping bottled up for the past month. Draco felt vulnerable, quite literally backed into a corner. He let her puff a bit before pushing off her and pinning her against the wall instead. Her unpleased look reminded Draco of a ruffled cat, making it difficult for him to really be upset.

“Listen, princess,” Draco dropped his voice tauntingly, trying to lock unwavering eye contact. “Don’t get mad at me if you’re dumb enough to decide to shag in the hallways. With Potter, no less.”

“Don’t get mad at situations that you misunderstood,” She saw through Draco’s failed attempt to keep his jealousy at bay. Before he realized how pathetic he probably sounded, he found the warm, artificial taste of strawberries that he had been craving for the past month upon his lips. He wasn’t even sure who made the first move as he tightened a surprised hand around her hair, pulling her in for a deeper kiss like he was starving and going in for another bite of food. Her hands were already interlocked behind his neck, melting his body into hers from the electric feeling running through his veins. Draco’s blind rage was gone, instead replaced by a shameless desperation for more of her. Every plight from the past month dissipated with each kiss he took without breath. In this moment, he didn’t feel guilty for lying to her when they broke up, he didn’t feel any of the familial pressure that plagued his sleep, nor could he even think about why he was angry at her in the first place.

When she broke the kiss, Draco was temporarily snapped back to the reality where she was supposed to hate him and vice versa. They locked eye contact and without another word, Draco decided to indulge his delusion and quickly pushed her into the boy’s bathroom, muttering a locking spell under his breath. Draco didn’t think that the unspoken agreement would actually pan out, but this time, she definitely made the first move by jumping back into his arms for another kiss that rivaled the one that they just shared in the hallway. He ran his hand through her hair, savoring the missed touch. He slowly moved his hand down to her button down, dragging his fingers over the top few buttons. To his surprise, he freed her breasts easily without the need to discard any extra fabric. Curious, he moved his hand down to the hem of her skirt, brushing it to investigate if she had forgone all of her undergarments. He proved his theory right and realized what it meant.

“I can’t believe you,” He said breathlessly, moving his lips down to her neck and moving his hand around to cup her ass. “There’s nothing that he could have done to deserve all of this.”

“Stop talking about him,” She pleaded, the desperation in her voice matched by her blind tugging at his belt buckle. Draco should’ve been mad but this empowered him. He smirked at the idea of his longtime enemy slinking back to his room sadly or even better, fruitlessly waiting for her return at the entrance of her common room. Draco dragged a teasing finger over her slit and the growing tent in his pants was almost painful when he realized how wet she was.

“Now, who got you this worked up?” Draco whispered tauntingly, planting another kiss at the nape of her neck.

“Y-You. Ah. You, Draco,” She slurred as Draco inserted a finger. He pressed her against the wall for better support. Her head rocked forward to his chest as her knees started to buckle into his touch. She was pushing him past insanity. He let out a tsk, straightening her back up against the wall to look at him. Draco let out a hiss when she reached around his arm to firmly squeeze his bulge, relieving some of the pressure building in his pants but he couldn’t let it distract him. He added another finger, beginning to fuck her with unrelenting speed as she drew out an incoherent string of his name over and over. For Draco, this was music. He met her mouth again, moving his thumb over his clit. Draco smiled into her lips as she was unable to return the kisses due to her moaning. He felt the familiar feel of her walls starting to clench around his fingers and her breathing quickened to a pant. Draco pressed his forehead against hers, watching her reaction as he removed his fingers to bring her to the same edge of delirium that he was standing on.

“Draco… Please… I’m so close. I was so close,” She cursed, begging unashamedly. Reality was truly suspended at this moment. Their dynamic remained that same as if they were still dating, as if the last month didn’t happen.

“Be a good girl and you will,” Draco bit his lip as he stared into her look of desperation. He took a small step back and started to undo his belt while she dropped to her knees without instruction and took over. When she set the first lick up his shaft, he barely caught himself on the wall behind her from the surge of lust that almost made him crumble. He tangled his hands in her hair, brushing any pieces away from the front of her face. She let him guide her around him, fighting to keep his composure. “Just… Just like that.”

Draco’s voice was husky from bewilderment. When he hit the back of her throat, he swore he could’ve finished at that moment. He let out a low groan, pulling at her hair. She wasn’t on him for long, but he was afraid of finishing too early. Draco pushed her off softly, rolling his eyes back into his head when she removed her mouth with a pop. He used the grip on her hair to encourage her to stand up, pressing her back firmly against the wall. He removed his hand from her hair and used the same arm to hook underneath her leg, pulling her closer and taking a moment to take a deep breath of her comforting perfume. He used his free hand to undo another button off her top, sliding a wandering hand to her breasts. A soft chorus of “please, Draco” fell from her lips, despite knowing it was best not to beg. She was lucky that he was as impatient as he was. In a swift movement, he slid himself in her slickness, sharing a moan of relief with her.

Draco let her stay seated for a moment, dizzy from the pleasure and wanting to savor this moment. A quick thought flashed thorough his head that as soon as they were finished, they’d go back to being a burnt-out flame. The worrying thought began to clash with the high of the moment, so he removed his hand from her breast to create a backstop between her head and the stone wall. His first few thrusts created an awkward rhythm that he was trying to build up in order to prolong the moment. Nevertheless, she threw her head forward into the crook of his neck mumbling his name and leaving sloppy kisses where ever she could. He pulled her head back to look at him, drinking in her sinful look of matched pleasure that manifested in drooped eyelids and a cute flush across her cheeks. She reached up and kissed him again, encouraging him to pick up the pace. The messy sounds of skin on skin along her almost melodic moaning created a rhythm that Draco tried to keep up.

“Draco… I’m. so close. Can I- ah! Can I please cum?” Her sweet request was too good to deny. He moved his hand again, this time to draw close, tight circles around her clit and she threw her head back in a wail, sliding down the wall. She pushed her pelvis as close as she practically can, letting out the same hungry pleas from before.

“Cum for me,” Draco crooned, smiling at the formality that she had allowed him and watched hungrily as her eyes rolled with her release. She clenched impossibly tight around him, and he had forgotten how the feeling of her warmth only got better as she finished around him. He teetered on the edge of his own orgasm and she knew that. She lazily leaned her head forward, whispering into his ear.

“Only you fuck me this good,” She drew out. Her filthy words were just what Draco needed and the delirium set in.

“Can I cum in you?” Draco practically begged, his voice just above a whimper. When she breathed out a shaky “yes,” Draco fell in one last thrust before holding her as close as he could and let out a final groan. He wish he could’ve prolonged the high of spilling into her, especially since she was peppering sloppy kissed all over his jaw and cheek. He pulled out and took another deep look into her eyes, matching her heavy breathing.

Draco helped her clean up and as he was redoing his belt and she was buttoning up her shirt back with the same flush splashed across her cheek, reality came crashing down. He choked down a cough, unable to find anything to say to her. He didn’t know how to answer a “what are we” question if she asked. Instead, her reached out again to cup her face, running a thumb over the apple of her cheek. He managed to form a quick sentence, forgoing any fear of how pathetic he could sound.

“I’m sorry.”

#draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy fic #Draco Malfoy #jealous Draco #harry potter #Harry Potter fanfic #Draco Malfoy one shot

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tswaney17 · 4 months

Text

Accidental Chemistry Holiday Series - Part 2: Gifts Galore

Happy New Year!! 🍾 I thought we could kick off the new year with my final holiday fic of the season. If you sent me prompts, don't worry! I will definitely try to come back to those in the future. Hey, blink and @elriel-month will be here, right? 😉 A special thank you to @impossiblescissorspeachpaper for sending me this prompt. 💕

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: minor language

Word Count: 2,772

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read the beginning below or click here to head to AO3.

Azriel watched as Elain brought in bag after bag of Christmas presents for Oliver.

At his raised brows, she shot him a sheepish smile. “I’ve been saving small bits of my paycheck for a few months now. And there were so many good sales. I saved like $200 on everything.” She shrugged, even as a blush touched her cheeks.

He reached to grab a few of her bags off her shoulder and set them on the table. Money was a sensitive topic for her, and one she didn’t like the dwell on. So, he said instead, “Well, it sounds like you scored a good deal today.”

She dropped her purse on the counter, peeking into the living area where her little one was crawling all over the floor. One of her rare smiles bloomed across her face. It was one she always seemed to get when she watched her son. And sometimes she shot at Azriel when she’d catch him playing with Oliver. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. That’s what he called that particular smile. “Thank you for watching him today. I appreciate it.”

“I was happy to do it,” he admitted, meaning every single word. Az had gotten comfortable with Oliver over the several months of them living there, building a relationship with the boy and his mother. He never imagined himself as a father figure, but something about the fierce protectiveness he felt towards Ollie—and Elain for that matter—the warmth that spread through his chest whenever he got one of those big grins, made him start believing that perhaps it was something he had truly desired after all.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved these fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist:

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

@shedoessoshedoes

@athena-85

@jasmineandshadows

@nightcourtseer

@nivem565

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@justreallybored

@ultadverb

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@roseandshadows

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@curiositywoman

@karsyn-b2

@elainsweetcobalt

@emilyondemand

Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

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achaotichuman · 5 months

Text

Hello everyone, I am A Chaotic Human, or Asher, this is my fanatic blog dedicated to Acotar. My pronouns are He/Him/His. My side-blog is @achaotichuman2-0

This account is Pro-Palestine, call for a permanent ceasefire in Palestine. Free the lands that have been occupied for 75+ years.

Most of my posts are my stupid little headcanons for Acotar and my one-shots/fanfictions. I'll also rant quite a bit on here about the general BS in Acotar. If you are a Rhysand stan, do not interact, because this is no Rhysand safe space, though I do write Tamlin/Rhysand, but that is usually in regard to Rhysand and Tamlin having had a past relationship, or I write Rhysand in my honey-eyed fanon version.

If you want some quality Tamlin content, complete with Tamcien, Tamsand, and whatever else you want me to write, this is the place to be. If you have any prompts about Acotar you want me to write, or you just wanna chat, just shoot me an ask or a direct message! Note- Prompts can take anywhere from a month to longer for me to write, sometimes longer, cause work, school, life and stuff.

Works on Ao3-

A Court of Song and Desolation-

The Spring Court is in ruins, and Tamlin lives with the ghostly memories that haunt his broken, forgotten manor. Lucien cannot and will not stand for the idea of leaving him there to rot. After bringing Tamlin to the mortal lands, they begin to unveil a darkness that is targeting the Spring Lord and may rewrite their way of life as they know it.

-Not completed. Set to have 70 chapters. Includes, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Azriel/Eris Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian.

How Nesta Archeron Learned to Trap A Beast-

Nesta leaves the Night Court for the Mortal Lands after they attempt to trap her with the male she loathes. After travelling through Summer, she finds the Spring Court and is determined to make it through to her old home. Tamlin is on the brink of ending it, but when the eldest Archeron sister comes marching through his lands, he finds a new reason to keep going.

-Not completed. Set to have 6 chapters. Includes, Nesta Archeron/Tamlin.

The Dog Days Are Over-

A gift for @shi-daisy for writing the beautiful A Court of Threads & Daises. The Spring festival is upon the Ambrose family. Joy and celebration is in the air, but this festival is a little different to any other. Amarantha is no longer looming on the lands and the people are free to celebrate as they wish, they are no longer weighed down by her sadistic hand, or by a curse. The dog days are over.

-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes the original ships of A Court of Threads and Daises.

A Game Never Worth Playing-

Their mating bond has been ignored for too long and Eris is finally and fully fed up with it. He marches into Spring and demands that Tamlin finally make a decision.

-Completed. 2 chapters. Includes Tamlin/Eris Vanserra.

Melodies In The Dark-

A snippet of what occurred UTM before Feyre came back to save Prythian. Tamlin misses the sun, when he sees Lucien again for the first time in weeks, he realizes his sun was Under the Mountain with him all along.

-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Tamlin/Rhysand.

The One True High Lord

Even after everyone expected Nesta Archeron, the eldest of the Night Court Heirs would take the throne, Feyre Acheron has been chosen by the Cauldron. With her new precarious position, and resistance against women in power in the Night Court, Feyre decides to ask an old friend to turn her male. Now High Lord of the Night Court. Feyre explores the ins and outs of ruling and finds drama waiting for her in the hands of a beautiful stranger.

This was based of Tumblr Prompt but I turned into an AU

-Not completed. Set to have 4 chapter. Includes Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Morrigan, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Citrus Tears, Sour Souls

I went on an angst kick and uploaded some angsty oneshots to Tumblr, this is them collected on Ao3.

-Not completed. Includes Lucien/Elain Archeron, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Eris Vanserra & The Lady of the Autumn Court.

A Field Of Dahlias

Finally free of the Mountain and Amarantha's grip on the people. The Spring Court is scrambling to get back to normal. With their wedding not far away, Tamlin is struggling to keep his Court from falling into disarray. When he starts to get sick things begin to take a turn for the worse and worser.

When Feyre is taken by the Lord of Night, it doesn't look like anything it can get any worse. With his life experience Tamlin should know that things can always get worse.

-Not completed. Set to have 5 chapters. Includes Feyre Archeron/Tamlin, Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra, Ianthe/Elain Archeron, Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra.

Heaven Help A Fool Who Falls In Love

Tamlin mumbled something too quiet for Lucien to catch, the Fox chuckled, and pressed his forehead to Tamlin’s, “What was that, pretty boy?”

Tamlin breathed a laugh, “Pretty boy?”

Lucien bit down on his lip, trying to contain his grin, he was unsuccessful, “Yes, pretty boy.”

“Okay, handsome man.” Tamlin replied.

Tamlin gets sick, and Lucien takes care of him.

-Completed. 1 chapter. Includes Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Tumblr Oneshots-

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

Hallow's eve is upon Prythian. But what Court has the best scares? Autumn or Spring. Lucien is the judge and Tamlin is determined to win.

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

When Tamlin is fighting his magic, and Lucien takes care of him.

Tamlin/Rhysand-

Rhysand pushes Tamlin too far at a ball. Tamlin finally snaps and gives him what he deserves.

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

Modern!Au, Lucien has a motorcycle, he gives his boyfriend a ride. Tamlin is in love.

Tamlin/Rhysand & Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

Rhysand is still hung over Tamlin even centuries after their fallout. Lucien isn't letting him anywhere near his High lord.

Tamlin/Rhysand-

Rhysand blames Tamlin, but who's left to blame if Tamlin isn't there?

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra & Elain Archeron/Gwyneth Berdara-

Lucien is drawing further and further away from Elain. Elain wants to know why.

Tamlin/Rhysand-

Tamlin finally gives Rhysand a reality check, so naturally Rhysand does the next logical thing, and attempts to court him.

Tamlin Oneshot-

Tamlin is stuck in a time loop of reliving his life over and over. An old friend comes to lead him into the afterlife. Tamlin finally lets himself go with her.

Tamlin/Rhysand-

Rhysand meets a beautiful female at a ball in the Hewn City. She runs away before he can get her name. He is still in love a year later, and finally meets her again, but who was she really...

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra-

Lucien loves reading. He can't anymore because the clicking of his metal eye drives him insane. Tamlin decides to step in and help.

Tamlin & Jesminda

Jesminda is simply trying to enjoy a beautiful day, then, because the Gods apparently hate her, a problem falls from the sky and into her life.

Five times Lucien Vanserra proposed to Tamlin, one time Tamlin said yes

Exactly what the title says, five times Tamlin rejected Lucien's proposal, one time he accepted.

A rewrite of Feyre’s death Under the Mountain.

Feyre awakening from her near death experience in a slightly more realistic manner.

Thunderstorms- Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra

Lucien is afraid of thunderstorms; Tamlin helps him through one. Or Tamcien fluff.

Eris Vanserra

Eris' home has never been a safe place; or Eris Vanserra angst.

The Mother's Least Favourite Son

Elain decides to reject the mating bond, and what Lucien becomes after.

Worthless Man

Tamlin is difficult to understand, even harder to love.

The Last Time He Cried

Finding peace in the after world- A continuation of The Mother's Least Favourite Son, but you do not need to read it to understand this one.

Eris Vanserra

Eris has a not good, very bad, horrible day.

Tamlin Week 2024

This is the list of my oneshots for Tamlin Week 2024, I decided to make them their own section with links to both the Tumblr post and Ao3 work for them!

Day1- Kidnapped By The Faery Queen

Link for Tumblr Post and the Link for Ao3 work

It was a terrible decision, as then the wolves pounced.

Tamlin tried to duck down, screaming. Hoping someone equally as stupid as him had come out here during the night, hopefully with an axe or a mace. A large claw descended on him, and Tamlin screamed again as it slashed his abdomen. Blood poured from his stomach. Soaking his clothes. The four were on him, a pile of raw flesh for the taking. There was nothing he could do as he felt teeth sink into his arm, preparing to pierce flesh.

Then a roar more powerful than any of the snarling wolves shattered the night sky.

The large furred heads of the wolves jutted up, ears falling back, completely flat. The roar echoed again, similar to a snarled warning. They began to whimper and whine.

Then it appeared, and Tamlin felt all the blood drain from his face.

A character reversal AU, where Tamlin is mortal and in Feyre's position. And Feyre is the High Lady of Spring who needs a human to break her curse.

Day2- The Ghost Of The One That Got Away

Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 work

“Well?” Rhysand asked.

“Well…?” Tamlin repeated.

“You said you needed to practise for your performance. So,” Rhysand leaned back on the heels of his hands, “Practice.”

Confusion lined Tamlin’s soft golden features. He tilted his head ever so slightly, “What?”

Nodding his head once more to the instrument in Tamlin’s hands, Rhysand repeated, “Practise for me.”

“I- Are you sure?” Tamlin seemed to clutch the fiddle closer to him, “It’s not all that good, I-”

“Tamlin.” Rhysand’s voice lowered in pitch, “I want to hear you play.”

Rhysand walks in on Tamlin practicing for a performance. What happened after... well who was to blame him for falling in love on the spot?

Day3- Hedonism

Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 post

Lucien whispered, “I hate that I couldn’t make it all stop. I hate that I couldn’t help you.”

“I hate that I made it so hard for you.” Tamlin murmured back, “I hate that in the end you even stopped yelling at me. You used to do that everyday.”

For once, a smile slipped over Lucien’s face. One pure and real and genuine.

“We haven’t lost it all.” Lucien said, sitting back down, “We aren’t all gone.”

“What else can we do?” Tamlin asked.

Lucien didn’t respond as he took another shot. Tamlin followed suit. As he did his head spun and the light in his eyes swam.

Then he felt a pair of hot hands on his shoulders, making him turn to face Lucien. The male seemed closer than before. As if he had moved his chair across to be nearer.

“I remember your hair.” Lucien whispered into the space between them, “I remember how much you liked me brushing it, or braiding it, or weaving flowers into it.”

Tamlin has never been good with words. Much less relationships, of any kind at all.

He doesn't know how to fix this; he doesn't know if there's any possibility of this being fixed.

But he has to try, for the man that is everything he's ever needed. He will try.

Day4- Mama's Boy

Link for Tumblr post and the Link for Ao3 work

“Is it the same rock for every High lord?” Lucien asked. Tamlin groaned loudly and Alis had to step away, lest her snickering led her to messing the paint up. Not that it would be perfect for very long tonight.

“Yes, Lucien.” Tamlin answered.

“Gods.” The fox murmured, “How was that the first time? I don’t think I could fuck in the exact same place I knew my father did.” As he said the words, Lucien visibly shuddered at the thought. To which Andras cackled.

But Tamlin didn’t laugh, stuck on what Lucien said to laugh.

How was that the first time?

On the evening of Calanmai, Tamlin remembers the first time he ever performed the ritual.

Day5- Marry Me

Link to Tumblr post and the Link to Ao3 work

As the music in the air swirled and the people began to dance a heartbeat quicker, Tamlin looked over at Lucien. All beauty and dashing, charming face with sweet eyes, a soft flicker in that burning amber. His gaze sweeping over the work that had been made up for him.

Tamlin cleared his throat and Lucien looked back at him. Holding out his hand, the High lord asked, “My Lord, may I have this dance?”

Slowly, the softest smile that the male could have ever bestowed to him appeared on Lucien’s face. He took his hand gracefully, murmuring, “You may.”

With what he was sure was the same smile echoed on his own features, Tamlin swept Lucien onto the dancefloor. And all of a sudden, it was just them in the world.

Tamlin has been wanting to marry Lucien for two years. Now he finally decides to propose.

Hopefully everything goes smoothly.

Day6- How Easy It Is To Worship You

Link to Tumblr post and the Link to Ao3 work

Lucien shifted, he leaned on his elbow, so he could see over at Tamlin’s face. He started running his fingers through Tamlin’s curls, “Do what?”

“Why…” Tamlin squeezed his eyes shut, “Why do you keep trying to take care of me? Why do you keep trying to love me?”

To Tamlin’s surprise Lucien chuckled, “there's no ‘trying’. I love you, and I want to take care of you. It's as simple as that.”

Tamlin manoeuvred himself so he was laying flat on his back and staring up at Lucien. He tried to search his face for insincerity but only found a look of pure unfiltered love.

“Why? Why do you love me? I’ve never given you a reason to.” Tamlin stared into those deep never-ending amber flames, as his words poured out of his throat. Some kind of dam breaking.

“Tamlin-”

Tamlin has a nightmare, reimagining his past and his mistakes. Lucien comforts him, and helps him through his negative spiral.

And here is a list of other Pro Tamlin creators and their fiction if you are interested in reading from others but don't know where to start!

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britcision · 1 year

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Eeeeh it was WIP Wednesday… and I’m thirsty for attention, so have a snippet from chapter two of Danny Fenton, Dead and Loving it!

(And I had to check I could paste obscene amounts of words from my notes into tumblr, since I’m not writing this in drafts for now - I lost too many sections to not hitting ‘save’ before putting my phone down)

Prompt and First chapter! (I guess I cannot make neat links on mobile, woe is me)

And the fic on AO3

@welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith

@someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones

@starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost

@akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159

@littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife

@serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf

————————

“Hang on a second, does that mean your ghost writer friend is also an actual ghost?” Because yeah, he had googled book collectors around Gotham and came up blank.

Danny took a moment to work out what he meant, then perked up and nodded.

“Oh, yeah! That’s his actual name too, I’m not sure he was ever a living person, and I wasn’t kidding when I said he had every book ever written. A lotta first editions too. I think he’s a spirit of literature?”

Jason took a quick peek around to see if any giant and possibly book shaped palaces had appeared.

Place was covered in floating islands and purple doors, there was a chance.

“Could we… could you introduce me?” Cuz he wasn’t gonna actually ask if Jane Austen was a ghost, not on his first day.

He had some damn self control. Even if the pit was fucking purring in the back of his head and this whole weird place felt more like home than anywhere he’d been before.

Flying beside him, Danny nodded cheerfully and shot him a thumbs up.

“Oh hell yeah, he needs more friends. Probably not today though, he’s not really around this part of the Zone, and we wanna make it to the Far Frozen and back before New Years. Next time,” he added before Jason could even begin to feel disappointed.

He’d known the odds of heading right there weren’t great. Fuck, he wouldn’t have wanted to; it was just hard to remember they were here to get the pit out when it was filling him with a buzzing, humming contentment down to his toes.

Part of him wanted to be a whole lot more suspicious. Did not like how easy it was to trust Danny, to relax into this undead realm.

But it was usually the pit that nagged at him not to trust anyone. And the pit was in heaven, and Jason had spent so long fighting that constant suspicion.

If things went as well as he hoped… well, he wasn’t gonna be going easy on any of the assholes fucking with his turf.

But being able to talk to the bats without the pit’s constant paranoia… yeah, he did a little hope he’d be a bit tighter lipped.

Feelings just kept spilling out of him around Danny, apparently literally if what the kid told him about his core was to be believed.

Jason could feel enough of Danny’s emotions in return to know the kid wasn’t lying. Hopefully that was what made him trust him.

Today, he nodded and looked around.

“So, the Far Frozen. Called that because it’s far?” He asked casually, definitely not letting on any concerns.

Flying hadn’t been hard so far, but he had no idea how long this was going to work. He couldn’t even tell if it was using a muscle, but it was sure as shit one he hadn’t used before.

Danny snickered and shrugged, clearly not even a little concerned.

“Well, I opened the portal pretty close in this case, but yeah, it’s far from the more populated areas of the zone. The yetis like it, it means they can keep to themselves.”

This was kind of the problem with Danny, Jason was coming to realise.

He’d told Jason where in the zone they were going, and why. They needed to see a guy called Frostbite, because he knew the most about ghost biology.

He’d probably know what to do about Jason’s pit problem, and what Danny and Jason could do to deal with the pits themselves. Fun, exciting, Jason was 1000% up for that.

Fucking yetis had not come up.

“The what?” He asked, striving for nonchalance and wondering again if he shouldn’t have shot someone a text before leaving.

And potentially never being seen again.

Danny hesitated for a moment, brows furrowing.

There was definitely more snow ahead than there had been behind.

“I totally mentioned the yetis?” Danny said carefully, like that would somehow make it true.

Jason stifled a snicker.

“You did not mention yetis. You mentioned ghosts.”

“Yeah, they’re ghost yetis.”

“That doesn’t actually make it any better, y’know? The yeti part is still kinda important.”

Not that Jason would be hugely surprised to find an alive yeti at some point. The world had a habit of saving up its weirdest bullshit to dish out onto him.

At least he wasn’t Constantine.

Danny pulled a face and shrugged, turning so he was flying backwards.

“Well, I mentioned it now? They’re yetis. So is Frostbite, but he’s like, bigger. And their leader. I mentioned that part, right?” Danny asked hopefully.

It was pretty clearly a fair question.

Jason nodded, scanning through what he’d been told so far.

“Yeah, and that they had the ghost hospital? I guess it’s a good thing as ghosts we’re not gonna feel the cold,” Jason added idly, glancing at their increasingly frosty surroundings.

He could feel the temperature dipping, sure, but nothing serious. They hadn’t even grabbed coats.

Danny stopped flying so quickly that Jason actually overshot him and had to turn, coming back to rejoin his guide. Who looked guilty.

Jason pulled on his best deadpan face.

“Let me guess. You definitely mentioned it?” He asked dryly.

Danny groaned and slapped himself in the face, then dragged his hand slowly free.

“Okay this one’s totally not my fault? I mean. I don’t need a coat there? And usually if anyone else comes with me, we have the Spectre Speeder, and it always has coats, so it’s not like we pack?”

He gave Jason a sheepish smile, half wincing like he expected a punch.

Jason did consider it, but not seriously.

“Okay, focus up Danny. What do we need to do? How cold am I gonna get?” Cuz the longer they were sitting still, the more the chill was creeping in.

Danny let out another lingering groan then closed his eyes, calculating.

“Okay… so I can call Frostbite when we get a bit closer, and he can come meet us, and he’ll have some spare coats? And I don’t think you can technically freeze to death anymore, but you don’t have a core? So I dunno.”

Jason took a deep breath of his own, fighting a half smile. Good to know he wasn’t the only one with a bad habit of rushing in.

But even he tried to be ready for everything.

“Great. Love this plan. Especially the part where I probably can’t freeze to death,” Jason snarked.

Danny squinted at him.

“Look, it’s better than my other plan, which is I freeze you solid in my ghost ice and tow you the rest of the way. You wanna show up walking and talking or in an iceberg?”

The fact that he seemed to be serious probably should have concerned Jason more, but he was having fun.

Just imagine, Jason Todd as the responsible one in a superhero team up. Dickie would be so proud.

It’d be just like his old Robin days, except that suit was thermally regulated out the ass.

“Ooh, frozen wastes or frozen in iceberg, I’m definitely seeing the difference. Let’s just get moving so you can call your buddy before I turn into a popsicle.”

Danny stuck his tongue out at Jason, but did indeed get moving again.

“Hey, both of those are still better than our last option,” he snarked back, and maybe Jason was imagining it but they were kinda going faster.

Lucky for Jason, apparently it was willpower that made you fly in the Ghost Zone, and being a stubborn bitch had always been his stock in trade.

“Oh gee, what’s the last option? Shoot ourselves from a catapult? Build a snowman and have it carry us? Or do we close our eyes real tight and wish ourselves there?” Jason asked as sweetly as he could.

Made Danny laugh anyway, before his expression became deadly serious.

“You’re literally wishing your way there right now, smartass, but no. The last option is we call my regent and he stops time and you spend the next eighty relative years of your life listening to lectures about why I need to be fully crowned.”

Which did sound pretty last-resort-y, in Jason’s opinion. And raised an important question.

“Why are you so against being fully crowned? You seem pretty in touch with all the king shit.” Certainly willing enough to talk about it, although now that Jason thought about it, mostly to complain.

Danny pulled another reluctant face.

“Just cuz I know I can’t get out of it doesn’t mean I gotta give myself up right away. The last king was a bloodthirsty tyrant, in an enchanted sleep for thousands of years. Do you have any idea how much paperwork that stacked up?”

Danny let out a shudder that had nothing to do with the increasing cold. Thinking to the amount of report forms he’d be facing if B found out about this particular jaunt, Jason joined him.

“Yeah, okay, that sounds like it sucks,” he agreed, and Danny shot him a relieved grin.

“Right? Like, I want to live my actual life first. Do something more than struggle through college and fight ghosts. Everything worked just fine while the other guy was in prison, so what’s the rush?”

They flew in silence for a moment, Jason struggling with an entirely unexpected lump in his throat.

Danny broke it, drifting closer until their shoulders bumped.

“Sorry man. Didn’t think.”

There was a perfect snappy comeback in there about it not being the first time, but Jason didn’t have it in him. He managed a nod and gentle bump back.

It was getting cold enough now that the moisture on his cheeks stung.

From condensation. Or air resistance or something.

The Ghost Zone had high humidity, explained all of the snow.

They continued in silence for a while, then Danny sighed and slowed to a stop once more. Jason copied a little more reluctantly, brushing trails of ice from his face.

“Okay so this is gonna be just, stupid loud?” Danny said with a slightly strained cheerfulness, like they’d never stopped bantering. “You’ll probably wanna put your hands over your ears.”

Jason complied, wondering just how literal the “call” part of Danny calling ahead was gonna be. Stupid loud implied it wouldn’t be on a cellphone.

He’d not had any messages since leaving Gotham actually, and it had been a couple of hours. He should probably check…

He clapped his hands back over his ears just in time as Danny sucked in a huge breath and bellowed like a thunderstorm.

“HEY FROSTY! PHANTOM INCOMING, BROUGHT A FRIEND. HE NEEDS A COAT!”

And then Danny gave Jason a cheery grin and nodded in the direction they’d been travelling as he cautiously removed his hands.

“He can’t get quite that loud, so we’ll have to get closer before we can hear him. Might as well keep going, right?”

Jason took another moment just to stare at the ghost. It was beginning to actually kick in that… yeah. Danny wasn’t human.

And Jason knew plenty of metahumans, people with powers. He knew Black Canary, so what the line should be is a bit fuzzy.

But.

Danny’s not fully human, not anymore. So what the hell was Jason?

The exact same asshole he was yesterday, obviously. Just with… well, his baggage compartment had already been overstuffed.

Even the thought of getting to dump the pit baggage meant that even if he was now a zombie or a ghost or whatever that was still a net loss unless he had to eat people.

Which, again, what the fuck was his life?

He almost laughed, but didn’t want to try explaining that thought process to anyone else, even if the odds were pretty good Danny’s life… existence was at least a little fucked.

He gave a smile instead, nodding and following Danny’s lead off into the frost.

Doing absolutely nothing to reassure him, Jason was no longer sure it was reflections off the ice now catching the corner of his eye.

The longer they were in the Ghost Zone, the more he kept thinking he saw stars passing across the black of Danny’s suit.

***

Frostbite did in fact come to meet them, and did in fact bring Jason a coat. The fact that said coat REALLY looked like it came from a yeti…

Well, Danny had long decided never to ask, and Jason was following his lead today. His new friend was all wrapped up again, and wasn’t even shivering anymore!

Yeah. Danny fucked up.

And he also felt a little bad even after Jason told him it was fine, a damnably cocky smirk on his lips. It felt like he’d been holding onto that “Not the first thing you’ve conveniently forgotten” line for a while.

Which, to be fair, they’d met twice ever, so how the fuck would Jason know?

Just because it was accurate didn’t mean he had to say it.

They’d had to make quite a trek back to the depths of the Far Frozen along with Frostbite since the yeti had come to meet them, but they’d made good use of the time.

Frostbite still understood more about ghost biology and even specifically halfa biology than Danny himself did, and he’d immediately seen something was up with Jason.

Reassuring him that Jason wasn’t actually fading and that his core just hadn’t formed yet hadn’t taken long; apparently, yetis could smell core formation.

Delightful fucked up information Danny wished he’d never learned, but at least he’d been right.

Surrounded by the ambient ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone, Jason’s core was already coming along in fits and bounds. Something which had alarmed Jason to hear too, but hey.

About half of his ghost problems were probably related to that slow forming core, and the other half…

Yeah. Frostbite had a Lot of questions about the Lazarus Pits. And Jason had basically nothing by way of answers beyond what he’d already told Danny.

Which, aww, he’d really been putting everything he had on the table, which was nice. The longer they spent together, the more Danny figured Jason hadn’t been honest with anyone in a while.

He kept getting this surprised look on his face, these moments where he stopped like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. Like he thought he should be more careful.

Danny could relate. Frostbite was weirdly easy to share things with, even if Danny couldn’t get him to stop calling him Great One.

The second Danny had protested, Jason got a real sneaky grin on his face that Danny wasn’t sure he liked. He knew a Bastard Little Brother face from his mirror.

Jason being older than him? Meant nothing.

For now though, they’d made it to the medical center and Jason was looking at the scanning pods with a sceptical but weirdly unsurprised eye.

Danny still hadn’t stopped making Star Trek jokes when he saw them, but. Robin. What the fuck did Batman have access to?

Frostbite gave them both a very proud smile, patting the tube fondly.

“With this, we shall determine how much corrupted ectoplasm is within you, and how best to separate your mind from its affects. Already some of it is being purged by contact with our Saviour, but for it not to be gone already shows there is a deeper problem,” the yeti explained happily.

Jason shot Danny another shit eating grin at “saviour” and Danny bit back a groan, making himself smile at Frostbite instead.

Insistent and slightly patronising hero worship aside, he really did like the guy. He always wanted to help, and usually could, which was a nice change.

“Yeah, about that? Do we know what I’m doing that’d change his corruption?” Because it’s not that he didn’t want to help too, but it might be easier if he knew how.

Frostbite gave Danny a cheerful pat next, sending the smaller ghost stumbling a little.

“Oh, some of it will happen merely from your presence, Great One. As the King of the realm, you have far more ectoplasm and it is far stronger, which will help Jason’s ectoplasm to heal on its own. But we must find the root for the problem to be solved.”

Jason chuckled and shook his head, stripping back out of the thick yeti coat.

“There’s always a catch, right? Is this gonna hurt?” It sounded like he expected the answer to be yes, and even Frostbite looked suddenly concerned.

“You should not feel anything at all, young Jason. Perhaps the feelings from your contaminated source will become stronger, but they are not negative at present?” It came out as a question, mostly tied to that concern.

And Danny could kinda see why; from everything Jason told them, he was usually only swamped by rage. Neither of his auras felt angry now, but the pit’s had jumped to betrayal pretty consistently every time it spiked.

Needing to be told that something wasn’t going to hurt him sort of pointed where those feelings might have come from.

Danny nudged closer on impulse, letting his own trust-reassurance-done this before wash gently over Jason’s aura.

#dp x dc #danny fenton dead and loving it #woe for my formatting is lost #the wiki says frostbite should do yoda voice #i have not seen anyone else doing him yoda voice??#does anyone care if frostbite does not yoda voice?

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thesistersarcheron · 6 months

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Pairing: Feysand Rating: E Tags: Smut, Angst, Necromancy & Resurrection, Ghosts & Haunting, Morally Gray Rhysand, Silver Fox Rhysand, Dark Magic, Halloween Summary: Feyre swallowed her horror and raised her tattooed hand. “The bargain was only for the rest of my life.”

Rhysand's grip on her tightened as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Tamlin and I didn’t shuffle your corpse around for a week every month, if that’s what you’re thinking. I had to do some good old-fashioned graverobbing to get you, Feyre.”

Her spine stiffened. Prick!

(Or, what would have happened if Feyre wasn’t resurrected Under the Mountain?)

Read the first chapter on AO3 now! Snippet below the cut.

Feyre Archeron woke with a dry, rasping gasp.

She choked on that breath, the air fighting to reach her lungs as stale as final breaths and wilted grave offerings. It was thick with incense, too, and her eyes watered painfully as she turned her head to the side, coughing around the knot in her throat.

“Easy, love,” a velvet voice murmured above her. One gentle hand brushed away the tears gathering on her cheeks; another massaged her throat until her wheezing turned to smooth, steady breaths. “Easy.”

The fingertips on her cheeks migrated to her hair, brushing back a lock tangled in her lashes. The touch, though it was little more than a graze, was full of something protective, something possessive. Even though she was lightheaded and reeling, Feyre leaned into it, desperate for the safety it promised.

Her eyes burned as she blinked them open to look at Tamlin.

But it wasn’t Tamlin touching her, and immediately, she began to choke again.

Rhysand.

The High Lord of the Night Court stood over her, leaning over a short stone wall to stare down at her with silver-limned eyes.

He looked nothing like she remembered. The last she had seen of him, he had been frantic, crawling across a throne room with a dagger in his hand and death in his bloodshot eyes. His skin had been ashen, his hair in dusty disarray. His fine black clothes had also been covered in dust and blood, his teeth bared, his face feral, as he launched himself at Amarantha with a roar.

This wasn’t the same male.

Feyre stared at him, and he stared back, seemingly content for once to let her look without a sly comment.

And the more Feyre looked at him, the more she saw. His hair, though it bore an otherworldly blue-black shine that had been absent the last time she saw him, was shot through with silver at the temples. There were fine lines around his violet eyes, drawing her attention to the deep, bruised circles beneath them, but the rest of his skin was a warm, lovely shade of brown that spoke to fresh air and sunshine and good food.

Night-dark power flowed off of him like smoke, the foreboding mantle of a dark king. It was too dark, though, and writhing in agitation, as if something within his soul had rotted.

But he was not agitated. No, he watched her with utter adoration plain on his face, soft and awed.

Feyre looked away from his parted lips and the tear lined eyes, suddenly uncomfortable.

But, as she cataloged the width and breadth of his shoulders instead, she found more questions in his clothes. He was clad in black as usual, but the collar of his jacket was devoid of the fine embroidery she remembered, and the brilliant onyx dye was dull, a plain, somber shade.

Mourner’s black.

The suit of a dark, distinguished widower.

She must have lingered on the jet buttons at his collar—their subtle carving of three mountains the only sign of finery on him—a beat too long, because Rhys’s fingers cupped her face to guide her eyes back to his. It was a touch far too loving for a male who barely tolerated her, and Feyre flinched back.

Her shoulder hit stone, and her uneasy lungs collapsed as she realized where she lay.

Coffin! Her mind shrieked. The memory of a sickening, final snap echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of her skull. I died! I died! I’m dead!

“You’re alive,” Rhys told her. His hushed voice was steady, but his lips trembled as he stroked her cheek. “So, so alive.”

She hated the way a knot inside of her chest loosened at the sound of his voice, at the feeling of the rough pad of his thumb lingering near her lips, so she slapped at his wrist. He huffed a dry laugh but removed his hand; at the perimeter of her mind, dark talons she hadn’t even noticed uncurled and retreated as well.

“You’re alright,” he murmured, curling a brittle lock of her hair around two fingers. “You’re alive, my love.”

But those talons must have been holding her tattered edges together, because the panic surged higher. Higher and higher and higher, roaring in her ears until all she could see behind her clenched-shut eyelids was a jeering crowd, until all she could feel was mud squelching beneath thin boots—

Until a pair of strong arms banded around her shoulders and the back of her knees. She thought she might have made some kind of noise, high and anxious, but the arms lifted her out of her coffin with such care that her heart stopped pounding at her breast and slowed to a throbbing ache instead. They held her tightly, as if she might disappear if they let her go.

A dizzying sense of deja vu seized her, and Feyre shoved at Rhysand until he deposited her on the floor beside the place where she had been laid to rest.

Her ribcage felt too small for her lungs, and she clutched at it as she watched him from her periphery.

“Breathe, Feyre.”

Feyre responded with a single finger. “I’m trying.”

Rhysand laughed again, softly this time, and shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched her.

“I suppose you are a bit out of practice.”

Fuck you, she thought as loudly as she could.

#feysand #feyre #rhysand #feyre archeron #my fics #poltergeist darling #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses fic #halloween 2023

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madarasgirl · 1 year

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A Love Letter to the King

Now on AO3!

I’ve been so distracted lately, mind filled with indecent thoughts of the Uchiha patriarch. Needed to get this out and hopefully alleviate my perpetually flooded basement. I present you with my many dirty snippets of fantasy strung together to form a little smutty fiction. This is an attempt to worship Madara in the bedroom.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW. Very descriptive smut, oral sex, kage bunshin no jutsu, group sex, anal sex, double penetration, light bondage, breeding, Madara is a dom, he loves his fem!reader, no abuse or non-consent. My first smut.

Be prepared. Steamy one-shot under the cut. 3070 words

As the last rays of sun filtered through the sheer curtains of your bedroom and died, you twirled your tongue around the silken skin covering Madara’s crown, slipping your tongue under his foreskin and back down again, tickling his sensitive frenulum. Your hands were busy peeling the skin on your man’s cock back and forth, up and down, repeatedly, massaging him, milking him. You inhaled his musky, male scent deeply, humming happily as you took more length down your throat until it hit the back. Taking a huge breath, you swallowed your gag, eyes watering when your nose finally met a soft bed of dark pubes. Steely shaft lodged down your throat, you proudly peeked up at Madara’s handsome visage.

Holy shit. Madara thought, desperately fighting every instinct to grab the back of your head and start fucking. No, he won’t hurt you. Calm down calm down calm down.

You gagged twice as Madara’s rock hard length kicked excitedly in your throat, tears spilling down your cheeks as you found a hand on your jaw that held you back. “Don’t force yourself,” Madara panted. “Are you sure you don’t want a safe word? Hn I will give you one anyways. It’ll be-”

“Hehe I don’t need one. I’m with you after all. I trust you more than anyone. What’s the worst that could happen?” You grinned up at the Uchiha cheekily before going back down, swallowing him whole and moaning. Madara groaned at the electric vibrations shooting through his cock. You sweet summer child.

You took your time worshipping your man with your face buried in his crotch, lapping at the large twin orbs and perineum below, tapping the jewels lightly when the hands gently stroking your face and weaving through your hair tightened. Sucking harder on the inside of his thigh to leave your mark, your hands greedily explored your lover –his sculpted abs, arms and chest thick with muscle, you grabbed his hard ass. You smirked to yourself as you saw Madara’s nuts draw upwards throughout your ministrations.

“Enough.” He grasped your upper arm to walk you away from the window to the bed, to your disagreement. “I’m not done with you yet!” You growled, mustering up your strength to try and wrestle him back into position to slurp up his delicious penis again. Madara’s eyes narrowed despite his amusement at your display, an elegant brow lifting. Plucking you off your feet by the hips, he threw you over a shoulder before striding to the bed and tossing you in. You squawked in indignance, but by then, he was already looming over you, silky tresses forming a curtain framing both your faces. Tonight is not for patience, Madara decided, sinking two fingers into your dripping folds.

“So wet already. Did you think you could stop me?”

You gasped. No matter how many times he took you, you still felt the initial stretch whenever he prepared you for penetration. But it stretched so good. You pushed back against his fingers and held his wrist, fingering yourself through his hand and moaning like a slut as he added a third finger.

“Mmm no. I like this position too. I think I’m getting exactly what I wanted,” you quipped, knowing that trying to boss Madara around would get a reaction out of him.

In response, Madara dipped down and lapped at your slick entrance, thumb applying hard pressure and dragging slowly against your clit. He inhaled and held his breath, savoring the sweet fragrance of your nectar.

“We will see.”

Suddenly the hand and warmth disappeared, only to be replaced by the smooth tip of his shaft, its foreskin fully retracted, completely erect. Madara shoved and hilted himself all at once, your breath leaving you as he immediately started a punishing pace. You were mesmerized by the sight of him rutting above you and the view of the connection point where two became one. You distantly wondered how something so large even fit.

Wrapping your legs around Madara’s waist, you mewled and gyrated upwards to meet his hips, hands hungry to find purchase wherever they could on his body.

“No.” Madara stilled.

Coming back down to Earth, your legs shook, but you obeyed him.

“Good girl.” You gulped at his expression now, dark amusement crinkling the edges of his obsidian eyes as he smiled at you. As he built up a tantalizing rhythm once more, you bravely pondered if you should try and fuck him back again.

Rational thought disappeared as an orgasm washed over you, your walls collapsing and convulsing around your partner, a string of unintelligible words leaving your mouth. You held onto your beloved to ground yourself, needing more –MORE– contact, wrapping your legs around his hips as your hands weaved into his mane.

Madara leered at you in satisfaction as you come undone before him –your back arched and throat exposed. “If you don’t stop squirming, I’ll pull out and leave you like this.” His hand reached for your neck and palmed it. No pressure applied, just him tracing up and down your throat as he grinned at you evilly.

What?! You were incredulous. How could he be so cruel when you were like this? Your jaws dropping and livid while still riding the waves of your release, you wanted nothing more than to slap that smug look off Madara’s stupid face.

“Or perhaps you’d like me to hold you down instead?”

You wanted to scream, but knew Madara would tease you more, so not knowing what else to say or do in this moment with your brain fried, you started crying instead. Witnessing your helpless display, his expression gentled. He was never able to deny you for THAT long. No matter, he could keep this going all night.

Madara bent down and put his weight on you as he grabbed both sides of your rump and pounded you into the mattress, balls slapping against your puckered orifice. To your relief, the new position allowed you to cling to your man as much as you needed. You sighed in contentment, revering his weight squishing you into the mattress, your pussy open and enjoying the onslaught, neither of you noticing the alarming squeals of your bed.

You finally looked at him again, only to find crimson staring hotly back at you, his eyelids peeled back impossibly wide as Madara hungrily drank you in. Were his pupils dilated? That was not a look you've seen before in a Sharingan. You stared back, captivated by his deadly form and unhinged expression. “He’s so beautiful” you thought. “Beautiful and dangerous,” you corrected yourself. But he was entirely yours. You whimpered, brain short-circuiting again as your nerves frayed and skin fried under his scorching treatment. You were simultaneously intimidated and intensely aroused for this man right now, the conflicting emotions boiling over to another orgasm.

Madara grunted and pushed in one last time before spilling his seed inside you. He kissed you hungrily, tongue dominating your mouth as you gave everything to him. The two of you rode your release, Madara slowly rocking against you while coming down from the pleasure, still sheathed within your cock sleeve. He hugged you closely to his chest and caressed the back of your head.

“You okay?” He asked.

You nuzzled against him, face pressed into his chest. “Couldn’t be better.” Your mind buzzed, the experience feeling like you got hit in the head by a meteor or two.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, but somewhere along the way, Madara pulled out to lay beside you and continued cradling you like the treasure you were. You smiled to yourself, feeling his length still swollen. You detached yourself from his embrace to expose your ongoing heat as well.

“Madara……please…stop teasing me. Put it back in…” You wailed with your legs split and reached down to spread your vertical lips and show him your drooling pussy. “Please…please…I’m yours, have me.” You were now desperate and not above begging aloud. You needed to be filled up and fucked. You offered yourself again, as if you were paying homage to a god.

How did you go from being terrified of this wonderful man when you first met to this? This wanton, needy mess begging for more of Uchiha Madara’s cock?

“What a view,” Madara breathed out, proud of the sloppy mess he made between your legs. When you got like this, you usually brought out all his soft edges. But not tonight, when he already gave in to your pleading earlier. He had an idea.

“Of course,” he murmured. And like that, the dance continued.

_______________

As you were licking Madara clean of his cum, you relaxed into his gentle petting, ready to pass out in bliss. You gave him a silly smile.

Another set of hands brushed against your thighs, making your eyes snap open. A familiar voice started from yet another direction. “You thought I was finished?” You could only stare in horror as you looked around and discovered four additional pairs of eyes gazing darkly back at you in mirth.

“Ah –ah. Oh God.” No sassy comment came to mind. You were speechless.

“It’s just me, Y/N.” A Madara stepped up to your side to fondle and pinch your breasts. “Five-to-one. It’s the perfect ratio for playing games, don’t you think?”

Your mind melted from too many sets of hands groping you. There was the hand cupping your breast. A mouth on your other breast suckling the nipple. Another set of greedy hands kneaded your ass and seized your hips. A tongue slowly traced its way up your neck, leaving light butterfly kisses at your earlobes. Several fingers were buried in your sopping cunt, pumping.

“Did I already die and go to heaven?”

“I wouldn’t be there with you, love.”

You frowned at his reply as you distantly heard Madara mutter the name of some jutsu, then found your hands restrained. “Eeeeeepp!!!” You squeaked, eyes wide as you realized this time there was nothing you can hold onto as you faced five Madaras.

You were placed on your hands and knees. A hand wandered to your rear end and you felt a cold liquid applied as you were getting spit-roasted by two Madaras. A finger brushed your clit continuously. Feeling overwhelmed and helpless, you pushed back on the organ in your vagina. A finger dipped into your ass and you tensed, but you couldn’t look backwards, not when your mouth was so full and your head held in place.

The Madara in your mouth pulled out from your mouth to tilt your head up at him. He searched your face and eyes, unraveling his sensory abilities, carefully feeling for any hint you didn’t wish for what was to come. He found in you a blazing arousal, yes, but beyond that, utter trust and love. The part of his heart he thought he previously taught to close off ached. Before you, Madara didn’t know his broken heart would be capable of such intense love again after Izuna departed long ago. It made Madara once again feel a devotion that could drive him to insanity. He silently vowed to do better by you this time and protect you forever.

Nimble fingers traced around your rosebud, the touch feather light, as the digit already inside rotated back and forth, twisting, prodding. He beckoned for you to open for him. You were growing weak, unable to prop yourself up any longer without the support of your arms. A Madara chuckled and held you up with one hand on your chest, while an additional digit joining the unyielding one in your butt. You clenched and unclenched, relishing the stretching in your bottom even if you already felt stuffed.

The Madara inside your snatch grunted from your flexing pelvic muscles, the rhythmic contractions milked his member and pushed him over the edge. He withdrew and yet another Madara took his place, this one starting a hard, rapid tempo at once. You abruptly found yourself straddling him, breasts bouncing in his face while Madara #4 (5? You have no idea) positioned himself behind you, head bumping against your anus and pushing steadily.

You drew deep breaths and bore down, attempting to open your hole to ease the entry. Feeling needy, you whined and kissed the Madara under you, the one pummeling your cervix. You licked and nipped at his lower lip, rubbing your forehead against his as tears prickled your vision. The man in your ass bottomed out at last, pausing to give you a chance to adjust to his invasion.

A different Madara came up to your face to offer you his dick and you eagerly sucked it up to pacify yourself. You made an incomprehensible sound as you went into sensory overload from getting stuffed airtight, clenching hard at each of the organs penetrating you. The ass Madara picked up his pace, pulling himself out almost entirely before plunging back where he belonged.

“You feel delectable,” Madara remarked.

And you are divine, you thought back.

You swayed like a rag doll at the mercy of a relentless deity, rocking from being hammered from each angle, loving every moment of it. Your low calls echoed through the room, when a loud CRACK snapped you out of your stupor, gravity causing you to lose balance. Your scream was muffled by a Madara’s tool filling your gullet as you fell backwards.

As expected, none of these shinobi missed a beat. As the vertigo passed, you were suspended in the air by the same two Madara who were in your pelvis, safe from the wreck that was your bed as they continued to bang you from the front and back while standing. A strong set of hands clutched your butt possessively, another set of hands pressed into your hips to hold you up against them. Your legs waved lewdly in the air. Two rods pistoned tirelessly into your molten core, churning butter, what was deposited prior dripping onto the floor, the squelching of fluids obscene.

You eyed the ruins of your furniture and sigh, “Now I need a new bed.”

“Then come sleep in mine.”

Your eyes opened in surprise and you glanced at a Madara off to your side who was running hands down the length of the underside of your leg, carefully brushing the sweaty skin.

“Am I supposed to make the long walk to your house at the end of each day?” You replied weakly, leaning back on your lover and resigning yourself to sleeping on your mattress or couch until you arranged for a new bed frame.

“I’m serious. Come live with me.”

“Hn, I could always come pick you up.” A sharp thrust smacked your backside.

The Madara at your side turned. “She was not addressing you.” He glared viciously at himself. You snickered because of course Madara would argue with himself. But living with him…your tired mind wandered at the suggestion.

Ass Madara glared back at his maker and finished behind you, the original dismissing him in a cloud of smoke. You flailed briefly at the loss in support before he appeared at your rear and slid in easily. Madara groaned lowly as the pleasure his clone experienced rocked his world again. He whispered kind words of affection to you.

“You are mine,” he stated matter-of-factly. This one must be the original.

A translucent blanket of blue enveloped your world, several Susano’o ribs formed to possessively surround you and the remaining clones.

“I will always protect you.”

Within what was supposed to be the most sinister chakra, sandwiched between two Madaras while two more watched or caressed you, there was nowhere safer than in this tempestuous storm god’s embrace. There was nowhere you’d rather be.

“Yes. Yes to everything,” you answered him.

The jutsu restraining your arms vanished at once and you rejoiced in your new freedom. At last you can hold Madara back! You needed to touch him right now. You relaxed, legs entwining around clone Madara’s waist as you turned as much as you could to touch the real one’s face, fingers brushing over his eyebrows. You ran your other hand through his luscious raven strands to lock your fingertips around his nape and kissed him deeply, rolling your hips in a vain attempt to take even more of him.

Red eyes observed your every action, memorizing each minute change in expression with startling clarity.

“Madara, MADARA!“ You chanted his name like a prayer. You peered around at the Madara copies that appeared just as fiercely determined to protect as the original. Your breath hitched in panic. “Please don’t have your clones use Susano’o too! I understand your point!” You exclaimed, extremely worried your other belongings in the small apartment would break from Madara’s flexing.

You suddenly found your situation so ridiculous. Here you were with a broken bed after a long night of carnal activity, still getting railed by multiple copies of the same man inside the protection of his Susano’o. Your love for the only Uchiha Madara washed over you and you sobbed his name as a final orgasm wracked its way through your exhausted body.

---------------

“Spread yourself for me.” Huh? Your legs were already split wide open. Was he trying to break your hips? Possibly, but –oh.

“You are mine, no?” You flushed more, if it was even possible, as you caught on. You wordlessly submitted, tilting your hips to provide a better view, your legs spreading unbelievably wider. Then, parting your inner folds with one hand and pulling your rump apart with the other, you displayed your two open, dripping holes swollen from overuse.

Uchiha Madara studied your salacious exhibit, crimson irises meticulously scanning you from face to rear, eyes stopping at the oozing fluids saturating your nether regions.

"You are stunning," he observed.

He stroked himself before pushing inside once more, the inexplicable urge to claim you coming over him. Hot essence seared your insides and you collapsed like a limp bag of bones, dazed.

The gleaming moonlight illuminated your spent, naked forms tangled in each other. Two souls were one, everything was perfect. Madara wouldn’t trade this for anything.

“I love you,” you whispered.

I love you more, Madara thought, gazing softly at you, lacing his fingers through yours.

You smiled warmly at him. You knew you didn’t need a safe word.

~End~

--------------------------

Umm that got out of hand. This was supposed to be a short smut fic ending after the first round and Madara’s clones popping up so I can laugh at us when we realize how much trouble we’re in. Instead I wrote out the group sex scene. *Face palm*

I headcanon that Madara is a very physical being and isn’t overly talkative during sex, preferring to show his feelings through actions, whether it’s touch or even the way he looks at you. While I believe he’s most vulnerable and most likely to engage in heart-to-heart post-coitus, he’s too overwhelmed by raw emotion at the end of my scene to articulate coherent thought, which was why he doesn’t verbally reply to you. Whatever he says though, he means 100% and he already called you "love" earlier.

Hope you enjoyed this work of love as much I did writing it.

Didn't want to insert a "big balls" joke in the story. Here's a Tengai Shinsei gif to remind us of the actual size of Madara's glorious nuts

#madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara fanfiction #madara smut #brat tamer madara #madara x you #madara x reader #madara x y/n #hornyaf #I am dirty so what

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five-rivers · 9 months

Text

Figment (More than Imagination)

AO3

(Be warned that this is an unfinished snippet.)

“You’re really him. The one from the festival.”

Izuku had been hearing similar statements all morning, since before he’d even gotten on the train, but it still made him blush! Was this what pro heroes had to deal with all the time? Wow! Izuku couldn’t imagine… Well, he could, but… The point was, he didn’t see any harm in turning and talking to the latest person to recognize him.

‘The one from the festival’ was a lot nicer than ‘bone breaking kid,’ after all!

(And both were better than ‘useless deku.’)

Now, it was a little different being approached on the street, in the rain, only a few blocks from UA, rather than just being acknowledged by fellow commuters, most of whom he saw every day, and coming out of an alleyway to do it was strange, but the guy didn’t look like a villain. Not that there was any particular villain look! That was to say, the person coming from the alley didn’t look threatening. He was thin, frail, even, and almost baseline human in appearance, with wavy brown hair, a nice shirt and a blazer, and a plain black umbrella. The only things that stood out about him were that he had two pupils and vividly cyan irises in each eye, and that his fingernails were painted that exact same color. Unless it wasn’t paint, and actually part of his quirk? Maybe a five-point or other specialized-contact quirk with a visual component? Not that Izuku should assume!

Oh! And he should really respond instead of just standing there, staring.

“Y-yep! That’s me! Th-the bone- bone breaking kid.” He smiled at the man, as brightly as he could.

“You look the same. I was worried you would be… different.”

“Ah, well, don’t worry! I didn’t get hurt that badly!” He was still alive, right? Even if Recovery Girl had said she wouldn’t heal him anymore… “I’m- I’m totally okay! But– Thank you for your support, mister!”

He bobbed a quick bow, then paused, unsure how to end this interaction. A stranger being concerned about him was… not quite a first, but… it usually ended pretty fast.

“I just… really want to shake your hand. Please.” The man held his right hand out, past the cover of his umbrella. “It would make me so happy…”

Izuku was immediately on guard. Maybe shaking hands upon first meeting someone new had been common in the past, but since the advent of quirks, it had become something reserved for the end of a meeting, one where people got to know each other fairly well, if that. Handshake events with celebrities required in-depth background checks and squeaky-clean records, and even then the celebrities usually wore gloves. Too many quirks were touch-based, too many quirks were destructive, or even just inconvenient, for the average person to feel okay with that kind of contact with strangers.

“I- I don’t know,” said Izuku, taking a step back. He didn’t want to be rude, and probably people asked heroes that all the time, but this was starting to get, uhm, uncomfortable. “I- I mean! I’ve still got all these bandages, so, it’s not very, um, good for me to be doing things with my hands!” He glanced at his own umbrella and cringed a little. “You know how it is. Injuries!”

The stranger’s expression - which Izuku was kind of having a hard time interpreting - didn’t change. He also didn’t put his hand down.

Against his better judgment, Izuku leaned forward. “Are you– Are you okay? Mister?”

The man crumpled suddenly. Izuku dropped his umbrella and rushed to his side, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling an ambulan–!”

The man’s hand shot out, grabbing Izuku’s wrist. His nails, sharper than they looked, dug into Izuku’s bandaged arm, deep enough to draw blood, and–

Several blocks away, well within the confines of UA, Yagi Toshinori’s eyes rolled up, into the back of his head, and he fell out of his seat, thoroughly derailing the staff meeting he’d been participating in.

“Pardon?” said Nezu. Answering the phone when perched on Aizawa’s shoulders was, perhaps, not entirely polite, but it was that or be underfoot while all of his very tall employees paced restlessly outside the nurse’s office. “One of our students was involved in what?”

This, of course, got the attention of absolutely everyone in the hallway. Excellent!

Not the student being involved in the incident, of course, but redirecting the staff’s attention to a problem that they could actually affect.

“Yes, yes, I will be there shortly,” he said. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention so promptly, Officer Tamakawa!” He hung up. “It appears as if one of our students was attacked by a villain on their commute and had an interesting reaction to the villain's quirk. Aizawa, Inui, I’ll need you to head to the hospital to confirm the student’s identity and to provide support.”

“Support?” asked Aizawa, both his eyebrows going up.

“The quirk in question has a psychological dimension, and there’s a worry that the student might lash out and injure themselves or others when they wake up.”

“Ugh,” said Aizawa. “Inui, you’ll have to drive. My eyes still aren’t back to normal.”

“Very good!” said Nezu, jumping down. “I will have the police send the relevant information directly to your phone!”

“Takashima Takuto,” said Tsukauchi, sliding into the chair across the table. "I have to say, I'm disappointed to see you again."

Takashima flexed his hands inside the special gloves the police force used to block his class of touch-based quirks and muttered unintelligibly.

"Do you remember the terms of your release?" asked Tsukauchi.

Takashima suddenly leaned forward, chest pressed flat against the heavy table between them. "You don't understand! I had to!"

"We'll get to that in a moment. Do you remember the terms of your release?"

"I-" Takashima leaned back. "I wasn't to use the active part of my quirk anymore."

"That's not entirely accurate. You're missing a few parts."

Takashima swallowed and began to bounce his leg up and down. "I was- I had to join the Fujitani Hospital psychiatric outpatient program, and I couldn't miss any appointments or medications."

"And?"

"And I had a- a work release where I could use my quirk… the active part of my quirk… if I had the… informed consent of the person, and approval of the hospital psychiatric board."

"Did you have either of those things when you used your quirk earlier today?"

"... No."

"So," said Tsukauchi, lacing his fingers together. "Explain to me what happened."

“I was– It was– It was self defense!”

Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow. “You’re claiming you were attacked?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“By a hero student?”

“... Yes.”

“Who you’ve never met before today?”

“It was– It was out of nowhere.”

“Alright. Where are your injuries, Mr. Takashima?”

“... What?”

“The boy you’re accusing of attacking you made it to the final eight in the UA Sports Festival. The arena had to be rebuilt after he and his last opponent were done with it. I find it difficult to believe that you were able to get away from him unscathed if he did attack you. Would you like to try again?”

“I- I- But if I- I had to, don’t you see? I’ve never seen anyone like him before!”

Tsukauchi sighed. “Can you explain that statement?”

“I saw him… Midoriya… I saw. With my quirk. On the TV. The sports festival. I saw him and I… didn’t believe it, at first. I’d never seen anything quite like that… The figments, they were hardly figments… The were… even more than Miss Inoue… almost real even without me… I had to.”

“Mr. Takashima, you recall that Miss Inoue almost died because of your reckless quirk use?”

“I was following the rules,” said Takashima. “I told her what my quirk did. I was a good psychiatrist. This will help him, too, Midoriya.”

“We have no idea what the long term effects on Mr. Midoriya will be,” said Tsukauchi. “As it stands, it sounds like you stalked him, ambushed him, and used your quirk on him without his consent.”

“I don’t… I had to. I had to make them real, once I saw them.”

“As it stands, it is recognized that you’re suffering from Compulsive Quirk Use Disorder, so, per your prior agreement with the prosecutor’s office, you’ll be remanded into a residential psychiatric program later today. Your lawyer’s been contacted, and should be able to give you more details.” Tsukauchi stood up.

“But,” said Takashima, weakly, “I had to.”

“No,” said Tsukauchi, “you didn’t.”

“A bit harsher than usual,” observed Akabane.

Tsukauchi scowled. “He’s almost killed half a dozen people with his quirk, and he always says the same thing, and his mother’s family always gets him out of facing real consequences. I’m tired of seeing him. Mental illness is not an excuse for mutilating people. This could have been prevented if the prosectors pushed for real intervention instead of that joke of a work release. There are medications he could be taking!” Tsukauchi angrily yanked a handful of paperwork out of the file folder on his desk and started filling it in.

“Still,” said Akabane.

“Midoriya is…” He let out a sharp sigh. “A friend of mine’s been mentoring the kid. I don’t really know him, but I know about him, and I don’t think my friend is going to take it well.”

“Ah,” said Akabane.

“It’s just– Do you know what happened to Miss Inoue? She was a patient of his, when he still had his license to practice. She had delusions of having worms crawling under her skin, eating her alive. She was lucky she didn’t have a detailed picture of what those worms looked like. They fell apart pretty fast. Mrs. Yamaguchi was another one of his victims; he convinced her to go off her antipsychotics so she could confront her hallucinations of her abusive husband. That stuck around a bit longer. Those are the worst two, but they’re not the reason he got put on probation. He started using his quirk on other people’s patients, and they reported him.”

“Nasty. But it sounds like he has a problem, too.”

“Yeah,” said Tsukauchi. “I just wish he’d gotten help for it faster.”

"Usually," said Dr. Aoki, as he led Aizawa and Hound Dog through the hospital, "the figments Mr. Takashima creates aren't so… lasting. Or detailed. Most of them lack significant internal organs or have other flaws that cause them to fall apart within a relatively brief period of time. Their creation also usually doesn't take such a toll on the host. I suspect the two things are related, but, well. You can see why we're so concerned."

"What kinds of figments are we talking about here?" asked Hound Dog.

"It's hard to say, precisely. Doctor - excuse me - Mr. Takashima worked with a broad spectrum of patients with an equally broad spectrum of disorders. If I had to guess, I would imagine some form of schizophrenia - that disorder can cause a wide range of detailed hallucinations - or Dissociative Identity Disorder - although that diagnosis has been controversial for years. Since the pre-quirk era at least." Aoki's hands fluttered. "We're far more concerned about physical ramifications, anyway, which is why we called you here. We have no idea how these figments might react to Mr. Midoriya or each other. We have them in separate rooms for now."

Aizawa sighed. "What are the figments of? What do they look like?"

"That," said Officer Tamakawa, who was escorting them, "is a whole extra problem." He stopped and opened a door, briefly. Aizawa and Hound Dog looked in. What was lying in the bed was unmistakable.

Tamakawa shut the door quickly.

"You see?" he asked.

“Was that a teenage All Might?” asked Hound Dog faintly.

#bnha #fic #my fic

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itsdappleagain · 22 days

Text

tagged by @emily-prentits THANK YOUU THIS LOOKS SO FUN

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

18!

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

141,974 words...which is a little embarassing considering jo, who tagged me, has 59 works and only about 30,000 more words. evidently i like my longfics.

3. what fandoms do you write for?

carmen sandiego 2019! 17 of those and one (1) original work that i dont mention in this post at all

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

the cardinal and the kitten - 325 kudos

say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime (let me lead you from your solitude) - 164 kudos (we call her the phantom au for short)

simple are the ways of love (simple as the touch of another's hands) - 156 kudos

Upon the Sword - 154 kudos

Everything is a Lie - 127 kudos

5. do you respond to comments?

Most of them yes!! I LOVE getting comments I screenshot and save every one I get.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hm- I guess it depends. Hellscape ends with Carmen's internal monologue just before she gets mind-wiped by VILE, but its technically no angstier than canon. they gave you life (and in return you gave them hell) is pretty angsty the whole way through and examines Carmen's trauma.

Those are both little one-shots, though- I usually end my reigns of terror within chapter fics pretty happily if I can manage it. The Phantom AU (linked above) ends in a dark place but leagues brighter than it seemed to be heading towards. It isn't a terribly neat and happy ending, and it tells a story of trauma and attempted suicide and the road to recovery from these. Let's go with that one.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In Love Is A Locked Cell Door Chase Devineaux and Crackle happily start making out in a jail cell and live happily ever after!

Ok, being serious-

For a one-shot, simple (linked above) starts happy and ends happier.

For a chapter fic, Choice ends with Carmen, Julia, and Gray all living in a very happy polycule pardoned from the law with full emotional control of their lives which is fun :]

8. do you get hate on fics?

@emily-prentits used to leave passive aggressive comments on my wattpad and we would fight in the comments sections 💀now we're partners so make of that what you will. but anyway, no serious ones, no!

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

No, not really! I have a few "fade-to-blacks" or skip-overs without any detail. The one time I tried writing smut it was really forced and hard for me to write...doesn't help that I've never felt sexual attraction in my life so I don't know about that. Curse you asexuality for taking papertiger handcuff sex away from the world.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

No, I'm not a fan of crossovers

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

I've had one or two...heavily referenced. Not in bad faith, but it was funny to see a lot of my plot and prose mannerisms reworded in a younger author's fic. I think they credited me as inspiration or gifted it to me both times so its not a big deal.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

If FRANTIC FANFIC! counts, which it shouldn't lol. Also the polycule is working on something :3

14. what's your all time favourite ship?

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have an au where paper star and black sheep escape VILE together and go through a sort of friends to lovers to enemies deal as carmen (renamed cardinal here due to never escaping in the boat the way she does in canon), though influenced by paper star at the start, eventually finds her inevitable path of good while paper star slips into a chaos that cardinal just can't stomach

ill paste a snippet here that i wrote but its a little bit long and complex and i dont have a ton of motivation for it

16. what are your writing strengths?

ABILITY TO MAKE READERS SUFFER

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

cohesive plot...lord help me i cannot plan a fic to the end before i post chapter 1 and it bites me in the ass all the time

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

if there's a small amount of it, i usually write it as-is in the other language and use external sources or context clues to explain it. if a lot of dialogue is in another language, I'll put it in brackets and write it in english!

19. first fandom you wrote for?

carmen sandiego. still going lmfao

20. favorite fic you've written?

that's really hard- i'm going to do top three in no particular order SORRY

Love, Carmen - this was the first or one of the first fics I ever wrote. it put me on the map a little bit (wattpad..) in terms of writing and boosted upon the sword and choice when they came along. it was really fun to just be young and writing after finishing all two released seasons of the show. i still like it a lot. its just cute and simple.

the phantom au - what a labor of love. i've had other fics (evil carlotta series, cough cough) that have been long and complex but those strayed into meandering and pointless and i lost a lot of motivation. phantom combined my love of theater with my favorite show and my hunger for angst angst angst. it was super fun to write and, at the risk of sounding vain, i pulled off a very hard to pull off trope at the end and i think i did it well. i think if you read any one of mine, this highlights a lot of my strengths.

the cardinal and the kitten - this is a popular one of mine that kind of serves as an updated love, carmen. i really enjoy how i wrote carmen and julia playing off of each other and my dialogue is very strong in this one.

okay, sorry about how long that was i treated it like a professional interview. i had a lot of fun writing this instead of working on a very important school project

#tag game #weed wife #carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego 2019 #writing #ao3

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miradelletarot · 1 month

Text

I Wanted to Be Angry | AU - Sagora & God!Gale One Shot

I was super in my feels a while ago, and started writing this. Finally finished it, and decided to share it here. It's also on AO3 if you'd rather read it there. While these are the same characters as my The Weave and the Vines Series on AO3, this is an Alternate Universe ending for them. It's sad. Get tissues...or hug a pillow. Tags: OC death, major depression, very angry Astarion, minor mention of blood, and Astarion is rather foul with Gale at one point. Like I said. Big Angy. Snippet: “I need to be more than ‘fine,’ Sagora. I could be great. A perfect being to guide others in their ambitious pursuits. There’s far more out there for me. I know it. I’m sure Mother and Tara will understand.” Word Count: 3,089 Fic below the cut

He just…left.

Walked away. - - -

“Sagora, My Love…I’m sorry. But, if I don’t do this – I’ll never know what could have been.”“But, Gale –”“– If I am fortunate enough to succeed, I’ll come back for you. I promise.” His demeanor was cavalier, smug even. As if his action was as simple as taking a stroll to the market, and choosing a loaf of bread. These trifles of mortal life seemed all too beneath him now.“Come back?? Gale, what about Waterdeep? Your mother? Tara?? What about me? I don’t want what you want. I told you that. You’re fine as you are.”“I need to be more than ‘fine,’ Sagora. I could be great. A perfect being to guide others in their ambitious pursuits. There’s far more out there for me. I know it. I’m sure Mother and Tara will understand.”“They won’t. I don’t. After all that we’ve been through? The plans we made…you’d throw it away just like that?”

“No, Darling, of course not!” He braced his hands on her shoulders. “I’m just paving the way for even better plans, that's all.”She stood there. Blank. Her mind was a blur of all the words he said in an incoherent fog. Gale gave her a small pat on her arm, pulling her out of her daze. All she saw next was him walking away. No kiss goodbye, nor a hug…not even a wave. He simply took a step and vanished, everyone staring into his direction in disbelief.

- - -

Sagora punished herself by traveling to Waterdeep without him. His mother and Tara deserved to know, though with what little she knew of Tara, she imagined that the winged feline was already well aware of Gale’s decision. Still, she felt responsible to his family somehow.

By the time she arrived there, it was clear Tara already shared the news. Sagora would have been surprised if she hadn’t. Morena wore black, her face veiled as if Gale had been deceased. Though, the way he left felt so abrupt he might as well have been. They all grieved the loss of the man they knew – the son, the friend, and the lover.

Morena handed Sagora a tarnished key with silky purple ribbons attached to the end. “Here, my dear. Stay as long as you like.” She asked Tara to guide her to Gale’s abandoned tower as they embraced and parted ways.

***

It was a picturesque front step with iron railings, ornate wooden doors, and wispy, overgrown vines clinging to the stonework. She slotted the key into place, and with a click she opened the heavy door. Immediately, the smell of parchment, dust, and sandalwood wafted in her face. Tara quietly walked beside her as she slowly perused each room, only speaking up to give information or guidance on her stay. The last room at the top of the stairs was the only room she knew – the room Gale showed her on their first romantic night together.

“Thank you for your help ,Tara…but – I think I need to be alone now.”

“Of course. Use this should you need anything.” She pawed at a sending stone that sat on a nearby table before flitting her wings, and leaving the tower through the terrace. Sagora sank to her knees, and wept. Everything smelled like him. He was everywhere within these walls. Every book, decoration, and piece of furniture had been touched by his gentle hands. It was as if she was touching a fragment of his soul left behind. By the time she reached his bedroom, seeing the very real bed of the illusion he once conjured for her, she collapsed into the mattress, moaning and whimpering with no more tears left to cry. It didn’t seem possible after all this time, but somehow, his scent still lingered on his sheets. There was even a stray hair on his pillow. She pulled the pillow against her, cradling it the same way she would hold him with her head on his chest. She clutched it tighter, breathing him in, and finally drifted into a deep, grief-stricken slumber.

***

Astarion arrived in Waterdeep about two months after Sagora’s arrival. Gale had mused about his tower enough on their travels that he was able to find it without too much trouble. A dull, brassy name plate embossed with ‘Mr. Gale Dekarios’ was the confirmation he needed of his successful arrival. The delicate vines were now thick, and burrowed into the cracks of the masonry, damaging the once pristine tower. Astarion found it odd that some of the vines had thin tendrils sneaking their way past the gaps in the door.

He knocked. No Answer. Again. Still nothing.

The lock on the door resisted his attempts at first, but his usual finesse with locks made it easy enough for him to covertly wiggle the mechanism free, and invite himself in. He stepped inside, shrugging off his winter coat, and scanned the room before him. The scene was nothing like Gale had described on their adventures. The floors, walls, and everything between had been shrouded in leafy vines. Some thick, and hardened, clinging to the floor. Others were newer, but devoid of any vibrancy. Not a single flower in sight. Thorns pricked into the delicate pages and covers of his books, papers strewn about, and decorations displaced. Not surprisingly, a statue of Mystra lay crumbled and broken beside Gale’s desk. What was once Gale’s sanctuary, had now become an overgrown forest – sad, and abandoned.

“What in the bloody hells…Sagora??” She mindlessly walked through the room. She was pale, gaunt, her shimmering auburn hair now a dull and matted tangle. No longer was her hair beautifully braided. It hung lifelessly, overgrown and unkempt, like the vines that choked out the walls and books they hung on. Out of her flesh, grew more vines that dragged along the floor with every step she took. Fresh and dried blood congealed around the roots that protruded from her body. In all his years, he had only read of this phenomenon. The Decay. It was merely the stuff of legend, but here he was, standing before a druid who had renounced her magic and her god, allowing shadow and grief to consume her before she painfully succumbs, and returns to the earth. She didn’t even regard Astarion when he rushed to her side, abandoning his coat to the floor. There was horror in his gaze, his words caught in his throat, rendering him speechless. “I’ve got letters.” she croaked, still never looking away from the path she made in the floor from her pacing. She strayed mindlessly to the desk, retrieving a small bundle of sealed letters addressed to each of their friends.

Astarion grasped her shoulders, and angled his body to look in her eyes. They were milky, and glazed over, drained of almost all of their color. “Sagora, where’s the cat? And Gale’s mother? Why haven’t they come for you!?” She stared blankly beyond his form. “Dead. Tara first. Morena next. Too sad.”

“Why in the fucking hells didn’t you come back then?! You idiot!”

“…Sorry.” He sighed. “We need to get you out of here.” He tried to tug at her arms, but her feet planted firmly to the ground beneath her. “Sagora, come on. We need to get you help.”

“No.” She slowly walked past him, almost disregarding his presence, and stepped out onto the terrace. Astarion followed close behind, afraid she might jump. Instead, she sat in Gale’s favorite spot as twilight set into the sky above.

“Everyone’s got a letter.” Her words were painfully slow, and forced. “You got two.” Astarion looked down at the bundle, and found two envelopes addressed to him. One, was a beautifully written ‘goodbye’ outlining their time together, and how she cherished their friendship. The other was a set of instructions for her inevitable end. He was not often one to get emotional, but knowing the cause of her consuming grief was enough to bring forth hot, angry tears that brimmed his crimson eyes.

“Can you see the stars?” Her willingness to speak surprised him a little, but it was better than her staring blankly into the void in silence. “Yes.” He spoke softly, more gently than before. He sat beside her, a book the only thing creating distance between them except for the tangled foliage that hung from her body. ‘The Art of the Night,’ etched in gold leaf along the spine, was one of the few books in the tower that hadn’t been consumed by the decay she created.

“I’m glad.” They sat in silence for a while, Sagora still staring blankly at nothing. While winter raged outside, the terrace remained warm – a lingering enchantment Gale had left behind.

“Astarion…”

“What is it, Darling?” “Thank you."

He took one of her hands into his, she was icy to the touch, colder than even himself. Hastily, he searched the tower for the warmest blanket he could find, and draped across her shoulders, though something deep in the pit of his stomach told him it would be for naught. He pulled her in close, arms protectively encircling her wilting frame. His breath hitched as he noted the sound of her weakening heartbeat as it progressively slowed to a dangerous rhythm.

“I’m glad…you came.”

“Of course.” He whispered, wanting to hear her fragile, shallow breaths, his only assurance that there was still some sign of life deep in her bones.

“A–sta–rion?” “Yes?” “Can…y-you…still s-see…t-the stars?” “Yes. I can.” He nodded, his lip quivering trying to bite back his tears.

Sagora’s lips curled into a faint smile. “G-g-ood. I’m so gl-aad. Th-thank you.” She rested her head on his shoulder, and released a gentle sigh as the life that remained slipped away. Astarion shifted, cradling her head so he could gaze at her, but there was little to see. Her soul was gone, and all that remained was an empty shell of the woman she once was. She was gone.

***

The party was meant to be a celebration, a way for the heroes to gather, and share stories of their lives after the absolute. While they did their best to celebrate Sagora’s life with drink in hand, and a song in their hearts – something they knew she would have wanted – a thick cloud of grief and anger hung in the air. As everyone threw back one drink after the other, sharing tales of her heroism, and friendship, a radiant light materialized from the heavens. A familiar figure descended before them, shimmering, his silvery exterior almost reflecting the moonlight.

“Ahh, what a quaint gathering! Though, I’d forgotten just how many different smells there are in the material plane.” The ethereal figure gazed around at the decor and celebration.

“Gale…” “Astarion! How good of you to recognize me! Though, I’m a bit surprised you could handle my intimidating presence so easily.”

“It’s not that fucking intimidating…” Karlach’s gaze was hot, and her infernal engine flared. “Oh, well, perhaps not for one as foreboding as you, Karlach. Lovely to see you’re back from the hells.”

“Wish I could say the same.” She scowled, as did the others, all gazing at Gale angrily.

“Hmm. I’m sensing some hostility. Surely, my presence isn’t that commanding. We’re here to celebrate, are we not?” His smug grin was the last straw for Astarion. Every word Gale said was pompous, and brimmed with arrogance.

“Gale, do us alllll a favor, and fuck off will you?”

His brows furrowed. “I hardly think I am deserving of such hostility, but no matter. I can see how my new appearance could make you all ill at ease. I’ll leave as soon as I find Sagora. Is she here yet?” Astarion clenched his fists hard, his eyes widening, and breathing ragged. “Ohh…Oh, she’s here, alright.” He reached for a large, potted tree sapling that sat on the table, and one of the envelopes Sagora had left with him. With a hard shove, he thrust the sapling into Gale’s shimmering chest.

He held the plant, examining it for a moment, puzzled. “Very funny, Astarion. Where is she?” “She’s there…in your hands. I hope you can find a sunny fucking spot to stick her in.” Gale sighed, his tone increasingly more irritated. “You’re a lot more childish than I remember. If she doesn’t want to see me, then just say so, so I can leave.” ��SHE CAN’T SEE YOU, YOU FUCKING TWAT! SHE’S DEAD!” Gale’s face went blank. If the color could have drained from him it would have. The words rang in his ears, and he hoped he heard them wrong. “She’s…what?” “Dead. She’s dead. Died in YOUR tower, by the way! By the time I made it to Waterdeep, I found her just in time to hold her in my fucking arms as she drew her last gods damn breath. Left alone to her grief after your mother and cat died.” Gale breathed in sharply. Before he could utter a sound, Astarion continued his rage-filled tirade. “Every book, every surface, all of it consumed by her vines! Her grief LITERALLY grew around her! They grew out of her body, draining the fucking life from her! YOU KILLED HER!” He stepped closer to Gale, nearly pressing against him, and an angrily pointed finger in the face of the God of Ambition.

“I hope you’re happy with your choice. Now you get to live with it. For eternity.” Astarion gritted his teeth, his breaths shaky and wild. As he started to walk away, he spun on his heels to face Gale once more. “Don’t you dare spill a drop of that soil. Her ashes are in there. You did this to her, now you can be responsible for her. For some fucking reason, she still wanted to be with you. Now she can. Don’t forget to water her, either.”

Gale stood, frozen, staring at the small sapling in his ethereal hands. He was too busy becoming a powerful god to concern himself with the trifles of mortals that he even disregarded the ones who loved him the most.

He grazed his fingers along the top of the soil. Its earthy smell was strong, stronger than he expected it to be. He set the sapling down on the nearby table, and opened the letter. He rubbed the parchment between his fingers to remind himself what it felt like. The texture was familiar, but fleeting, unable to truly recall the sensation he used to know so well. His mind buzzed as he tried to find focus on the words in front of him while he felt the hot stares of those who he once regarded as friends.

Gale,

If you’re reading this, it means I am no longer among the forest and the wolves. The day you left was the day I pronounced you dead. It was the only way I thought I could cope with how you walked away from me. How cold you were. How very misguided.

I traveled to Waterdeep, hoping to at the very least apologize to your mother for failing her…for failing you. She was dressed in black when I arrived, already informed of your folly by your dear friend, Tara who thankfully took pity on me instead of clawing my eyes out.

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to hate you. But, I just couldn’t let you go. My heart wouldn’t let me. Your mother handed me the key to your tower, and allowed me to stay there as long as I wished. I only meant to stay for a day or two, but something held me within these walls.

I wanted to forget you…to move on. I wanted to return to my grove. But, I just kept crying. It didn’t help that Tara had disappeared. Days went by before we found her curled up in a hiding spot she must have made for herself under the porch. She went there to die. No goodbye. Losing her and you so closely was all too much for your mother though. At least I got to say goodbye to her, and beg for her forgiveness. It’s my fault you left. I didn’t say the right things to make you stay. Maybe I didn’t love you enough. I wasn’t convincing enough. Perhaps I could have tried harder. I filled my days with endless wondering if there was more I could have done to keep you.

I miss you. Your smell, your laugh, that adorable smirk you always gave me. I miss the way you touched me. I miss your hands, and the way they explored my body when we made love. You were always enough for me. I only wish I had been enough for you.

You were right about one thing though. The gods don’t care about us mortals. Mystra showed you that, and then you showed that to me. I gave up Silvanus. I refused to give him more of my power. Power he doesn’t need. He’ll just take it from another unfortunate soul. He doesn’t care about me. I don’t know if he ever did.

It’s getting harder to see now. Perhaps he’s punishing me for abandoning him, or maybe it’s The Withering. It doesn’t matter now. It’ll be over soon.

I hope you got what you wished for…that Godhood was all you wanted it to be.

I hope you know that I’ll miss you. That you still hold my heart. Even as I succumb, and condemn myself to the Wall of the Faithless.

I love you. Always.

- Sagora

Gale’s hands trembled as he held the parchment in his ethereal hands. His composure was slipping, the veil of his foreboding stature was falling away, and there was little to stop it. He briskly gathered the sapling with a hushed apology to his former companions, and blinked away, returning to his realm, which feels heavier…emptier than it did before Withers sent for him.

The odds of reclaiming her from The Wall were insurmountable. For as formidable as Gale was, he was no match for Kelemvor, and would surely cease to be if he were to dare enter The Death God’s realm, and disturb the balance.

So this is it. ‘Gale’s Folly.’ The God of Ambition, doomed to grieve for an eternity, and suffer the consequences of his actions.

He gazed sorrowfully at the sapling before him, carefully rolling one of the leaves between his fingers.

“Forgive me…my love.”

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ficbrish · 3 months

Text

Kinktober Update!

Just a few things 🥰

I've updated my fic's work title on AO3!

When I first posted, I hadn't fully committed yet to doing all of the one shots with Vistri and Astarion. But now I am!

It went from

"EverythingIsAlreadyKinky - Kinktober 2023 with FicBrish"

"EverythingIsAlreadyKinky - Kinktober 2023: Oops! All Vistarion"

(very small, self-satisfying change there lol)

Also! Two new one shots have been added!

Both featuring Tav, or non-Dark Urge/Nurge, Vistri.

"Stay A While" [AO3] [Tumblr]

"The Truth of It" [AO3] [Tumblr]

Snippets below! (18+ only; Explicit)

"Stay A While"

(Act I - Forest - early into first sleeping together)

“Will you watch?” “As I hold you tight,” he offered. It was overwhelming. Astarion didn’t want a performance, not the kind she was used to, but something candid, completely her. He wasn’t asking her to curate his pleasure, he demanded she create her own. She never showed anything like it to anyone before. Accustomed to one type of role, she stepped into something unfamiliar. And not even a role, but the actor in their bed alone at night. Vistri’s hand travelled between her legs. She felt Astarion spread them further apart, holding her steady with a grip on each thigh. She was close to him again, held and admired; the only thing he wanted in the moment. Her fingers traced his lustful expression onto her soul, encircling herself in his web with every stroke. Determined to trade her life for a little death, she exposed her aching need to be coated in his poisons. She closed her eyes. “Open them, darling. I want you to watch me, as I watch you.” Her breath skipped with her choking heart as she met his gaze. Astarion looked as raw and exposed as she felt. His eager fangs rested on pouting lips. She leaned forward to lick them. “No, no, dear. You’ve got to earn that,” he cooed, “With your ecstasy.” She moaned stupidly, “Okay.” Vistri was everything his hand had been slapped away from these past 200 years. She ran through his thoughts entirely on her own. His body forced him to comply instead of the other way around. Sure, he was using her at the end of everything. She was by no means the first to surrender, but there was something sweeter about hers, and not just because she was his to savor. This time he was actually having fun. “Does it feel good, dear?” he grinned. She tossed her neck and sighed. Her eyes closed for just a moment before snapping open again to obey him, “Yes.” Astarion kissed her neck, and she moaned, leaning into it. He whispered into her ear, “You think you’re in control, but I’ve got you tangled up.” “You do,” she panted, “You do. All yours.” “My, but you put on a show,” his warm tongue wrapped around her lobe. His breath gently broke over her skin. It was like watching her layers peel back in a way he hadn’t seen before. Reading her eyes, Astarion watched them become saturated with the whole of her. The void in them brightened from her dim presence, and the light grew with her gratification. Shy at first, she stepped and then stomped into herself. Until there it was in those violet depths, the core of her on a silver platter, ready for him to devour. Vistri let his name slip lazily from her lips.

"The Truth of It"

(Act I - Mountains camp - Vistri's first time being vulnerable and opening up about herself to Astarion)

The way she shivered was her answer. Astarion grinned and stroked her throat with the tip of his nose. From the base of it to her chin, and sealed his gesture with another longing kiss. She was his. Even if it meant degrading herself. Being his little slut, bent over and drooling. He moaned on the next stroke of her tongue, overcome by the whim to fuck her senseless. His mind reeled with possibility. Just how far would she go for him, out in the open air, with the others just off into the distance? How could he give her a taste of a life that was worth living? “Get yourself off for me, dear.” “Here?” Vistri asked, grinning. Her heart pounded faster than it already was. They weren’t exactly discreet, but only ever touched each other tucked away in the woods or his tent. Here, out on the cliff where anyone might see… It was like he was claiming her. Like maybe some small part of his mind, or some feeling deep down, knew how important she was going to be to him once he realized his truth. That if he asked her to cum in the open air under the evening glow, she was worth something. “The sun is disappearing, and I’ll cover you.” Her grin grew wider, even reaching her eyes. She tried to tug one of her arms free from his grip. “Ah, ah! No hands." She looked at him curiously. Maybe he’d changed his mind about her. Maybe he had a delightfully naughty idea. Maybe this was the start of his attempt to toss her off the cliff. He unwrapped one of her legs from around his, and slid his thigh between hers, “Use me.” “Okay.” Showing her how to proceed, Astarion rubbed himself against her middle. She bit her lip and began to roll her hips. Her obedience was like a drug, and they passed it with their tongues where it melted into them and infected their minds worse than those tadpoles ever could. “Good,” he praised, just above a whisper. He fondled her neck, and the hand he let go of shot to his curls. His fangs throbbed, so ready to take her that he gasped as if biting into something hot whenever they touched her skin. She made a sound he had to shush, it was too personal and way too explicit. “I can block you from view, but I cannot stop your sound.” She nodded, sighing and rocking against his thigh. “All the pieces come together,” he said as she pleasured herself on him, “You’ve always given yourself to me so willingly. Let me bite you. Now I know why.” Vistri tossed her head back, craning her neck, and sighed, “There are worse things than dying in the arms of someone pretty.” “And if I had killed you that night?” “I hope you would have drunk me up.” A full, wanting, warm acceptance of himself—Not just his charm, but the monster, the ugliness in him. She wanted all of it, treasured all of him. He’d never been good enough for anyone before, just a disappointment under an illusion. But she made him feel like a god. He groaned, composure slipping, “Ohfuckme…” “Okay.”

#vistarion #fic update #BrishFics #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #stay a while fic #truth of it fic #smut #lemon

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