#and it's from the ending so it makes for a fitting note to end on

[emberuby]

it's always been you | s.jy

pairing: sim jake x reader

summary: jake is your best friend of over a decade, and you lose your mind when he gets asked out on a date.

warnings: university setting, roommate! jake, childhood best friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, unprotected sex, hardom! jake, sub! reader, degredation, possessiveness, spanking, fingering, overstimulation, vaginal sex, cream pie, implied breeding kink, angst, misunderstanding, fluff.

note: this was originally meant to be a jungwon fic but i though jake fit the vibes more. also the ending is based off a rom-com, and if you have watched it you will definitely be able to tell what it is. also, some of the scenes are based off the addicted series by kristie and becca richie.

wc: 4.0k

This was your fault, really. You knew you had no right to be mad that Jake was seeing other girls. He didn’t have any obligation always to be there to look after you like he used to. 

The walls at your shared apartment were thin, and it’s not like it was all that large, so you could clearly hear him and his date laughing and eating the dinner he made them. 

If you remembered correctly, she asked him out a week ago after his Physics lecture. Jake told you he noticed her staring at him since the beginning of the semester, chuckling to himself. You pretended to laugh alongside him, trying your best to hide your panic at the thought of him accepting a proposal from her. Sarah, you think her name was. Or Sanah? You groaned and rubbed your forehead.

He always made meals for you, and as much as you knew you were being ridiculous, it made you feel like he didn’t care about you anymore now that he was so preoccupied with another girl. Your mind started to spiral into what the future could be once he got serious about his relationship with her. He’d probably stop spending time with you, move out of your apartment, or make you find another place to stay at. 

You and Jake have been best friends for over twelve years, and all you have ever known is him. You practically lived at each other’s houses growing up, and didn’t hesitate to move in together and attend the same university. He was your shoulder to cry on when a boy broke your heart, when your grandfather passed away, and you failed an important exam. He was always there. You had no idea how you would cope without him.

You slammed your pillow onto your face and screamed. God, you were being so ridiculously dramatic. You had to grow up and accept that Jake does not belong to you. 

You dressed into your casual errand clothes and quietly walked out of your bedroom. You definitely needed some air to think, and you couldn’t handle hearing one more giggle coming from Jake’s new girlfriend’s mouth. You knew he wasn’t that funny, so why on earth was she laughing so much?

You were crouching down slightly and tip-toeing through the main hall of your apartment, hoping to leave without the two lovebirds noticing you. You were just at the entrance putting on your running shoes when you heard, “Hi! Y/N, right?” You turned around to face the girl that has been haunting your thoughts for the past few days. She was fucking gorgeous, with a warm and kind smile. God, you hated how insecure you began to feel.

“Hello! Uhm…,” Your voice was shaky, and you couldn’t find it in you to look at her eyes. You noticed Jake behind her in the kitchen, washing their dishes. He looked slightly concerned at your state but didn’t say anything.

“Sanah! My name is Sanah. Jake has told me a lot about you. I heard you guys grew up in the same town. That’s so cool! Most of my friends from back in town went overseas for uni so it’s been quite hard to make friends here,” Sanah sighed. You hated how nice she was. You wish she would just glare at you and make catty comments so it would be easier to hate her, but no, Jake had to choose the most perfect girl in the entire fucking university. 

“So where are you off to, Y/N?” Sanah asked.

“Oh…I-I’m just going out to…to get some groceries. We’re running low on a few things,” you stumbled on your words like an idiot.

“I stocked up on everything yesterday, don’t worry about it,” Jake said from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. 

“We-well, uhm…I’ll just go get some snacks then,” your hands were already on the door knob.

“It’s okay, I bought your favourite. The strawberry muffins, right? They’re in the pantry.”

You gulped, and your eyes were looking around for a way to escape. Jake started walking up towards you and Sanah, but you couldn’t be around this any longer. Your hands were shaking, and you opened the door abruptly, “Uh, yeah. Well, I-I just…I’ll get going, bye.”

You walked out of the apartment and down towards the elevator at the end of the hallway. You sighed with relief but you were also sweating from stress. You hated how you acted back there, like a complete bitch. You put your face into your hands, thinking of how Sanah probably hates your guts now and Jake is going to refuse to talk to you for days for utterly embarrassing him. 

You finally walked into the elevator, but just as the doors were about to close, a strong arm stopped it, followed by Jake stepping into the space. His hair was a mess, likely due to him running the length of the hallway to get here. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he was looking at you with a completely still face. He faced away from you to press the close button.

“Jake?!” You gasped, “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to check on you,” Jake murmured. 

“I’m okay, I’m fine. What the fuck? Go back. Did you seriously just leave Sanah alone?”

“I told her to go home,” he casually put his hands in his pocket, like he wasn’t being completely absurd. Your eyes widened in shock.

“You’re not serious.”

“Deadly,” he smirked.

“Jake, this isn’t a joke. Why would you do that? I’m just going out to get some food—”

“That’s bullshit. I mean, you’ve been acting so weird for the last week. You didn’t talk to me for the entire day, and then you act like that around a girl I bring home? You barely looked me in the eyes for the past few days. I know you, Y/N, you looked devastated. I had to put an end to it,” His eyes were pleading for you to explain it. Explain why you were acting like a madwoman, because you knew all he wanted to do was fix it.

“It’s nothing.”

“I know it’s not nothing! Talk to me, Y/N,” He reached out to hold your hands. They were rough and calloused, but so damn warm, and it made you never want to let go. “You always tell me how you feel, so why are you hiding now? I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t handle this distance between us, so tell me. I’m begging you.”

“I…,” you began. And there it was, you were going to tell him the one thing you promised to never do. 

You wouldn’t be heartbroken if Jake didn’t reciprocate your feelings, even if you would be slightly hurt. No, your nightmares were instead filled with thoughts of him leaving you. Of him getting uncomfortable, and disgusted at the thought of you having feelings for him. You were afraid of losing your soulmate because you were stupid enough to fall in love with him.

“You..?” Jake raised his eyebrows in curiosity and concern.

“I was jealous, okay? There, I said it. I was so fucking jealous because I’m in love with you, Jake, and have been for the past two years,” your eyes began tearing up ever so slightly, “and I know you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay. I wanted to be okay with it, but I don’t think I can handle seeing you with another girl. I know I’m being stupid, but I’ll find a way to deal with this, okay? I don’t know if you even want to keep being friends with me, I just—,” Your stammering was halted by Jake’s lips slamming on yours. 

Your back was suddenly pressed against the mirror at the back of the elevator, and you felt Jake grab your waist with one hand and hold your face with his other. It wasn’t soft like you always imagined your first kiss with Jake to be. It was rough, fast, and hard. You felt his tongue plunge into your mouth, and you couldn’t breathe. 

You were gripping his shoulders, nails clawing at the fabric of his shirt. You tried your best not to make any noise, knowing how mortifying it would be, but when he pressed his thigh against your core, a soft moan managed to escape your lips. You could feel yourself getting wet just from the kiss, and you felt yourself becoming lightheaded. The moan seemed to have gotten Jake going because he began grinding his thighs harder on you. 

He began to slow down, intertwining his hands with yours. He slowly let go of your lips, not before he nipped your bottom lip, and pressed his forehead against yours, letting out a sigh.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that, baby,” Jake whispered.

You two stared at each other for a few moments, with you not knowing what to say. Your mind was running laps, and you were afraid the next thing that came out of your mouth would make no sense, so instead you were just breathing, loudly and quickly. 

“I can’t believe you would even think I didn’t love you back. I mean, how could you be so stupid?” Jake asked, “You say you’ve been in love with me for two years, but try eight. You have been the love of my life for eight fucking years. I loved you before I even knew what it meant. What you felt today, I felt for eight years watching you get chased around by guys who were never good enough for someone as perfect as you.”

You were fully crying now, and his hands went up to your cheeks to rub the tears off them. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay,” He said before placing a firm kiss on your forehead, “I’ll never let anything hurt you. It’s always been you, okay? You’re mine now,” he began gently rubbing your back.

Throughout all this, his thighs were still pressed up against your cunt, “Jake, can we go back home?” You asked, looking up at him with shiny doe eyes that made him weak in the knees. You were desperate to get back to your apartment so you could finally calm down and properly talk to him.

Jake grinned, knowing from your blushing face and your nervousness that you were horny beyond your own comprehension. He pushed his leg up to tease you even further, surprising you and eliciting a whimper from your lips, much too loud for your liking. 

“I’ll take you home, don’t you worry your sweet head. It’s a real shame we didn’t say anything earlier. You don’t know the things I would’ve done to hear you make those noises when I was younger,” he whispered into your ear, making you grip harder onto him, afraid that if you were to let go of him you’d collapse onto the floor. 

The elevator door opened to reveal your neighbour. Jake quickly let go of you, still holding onto your waist to help steady you. He acted as if nothing had just transpired, and beamed his charming smile towards the elderly lady standing in front of you, “Good evening, Mrs. Kim!” 

You were lying on Jake’s bed, his lips sucking on your neck and your legs wrapped around his waist. Your mind has been so hazy that you can’t even remember how you got here. Thanks to Jake, your jeans have been discarded on the floor, leaving you only in your panties and your thin white shirt. 

You tapped Jake on the shoulder, “Jakey,” you said breathily, “are you going to make love to me?”

Jake’s corner of his lips raised to form a devilish smirk, “As much as I’d love that, baby, I really should punish you for the way you’ve been acting. You should’ve known better, I hate being ignored. Would you say you’ve been acting like a good girl recently?” 

“No…I-I guess no-not,” you drawled, body shaking. 

“I don’t plan on going soft on you tonight, sweetheart. You know what a safe word is, right?” He asked, making you nervously nod. If he had to ask you about a safe word, you knew your mind and body would be broken by the end of the night. It made you weirdly excited. “If at any point it becomes too much for you, you can either tap me three times or say Red, you got that?” 

You nodded again, making Jake spank the side of your thigh, followed by a yelp from you.

“Words, baby. I need you to use them, or is your mind already not working properly after barely kissing?” His voice was husky.

“Yes, Jake. I understand,” you managed to spit out.

He immediately went on to strip you of your shirt and your bra, leaving you with only your dark lace panties. He turned you around on your stomach and laid your hips over his lap, leaving your ass on display for him. He took a handful of your ass and began to kiss you up and down your spine, asking you, “Pick a number, baby.”

“Twenty-three?” 

You yelped when you felt his hand roughly come in contact with your ass, leaving a stinging sensation behind, while also dampening your panties further, even though they were already soaking. Before you could even catch your breath, he spanked you again, harsher than before. 

“Twenty-one to go, baby,” he said, and even though you couldn’t see him, you were sure he was grinning ear to ear. 

He was surprisingly quick with carrying out his punishment. At this point, he was getting more and more desperate to get his dick inside you, and although he enjoyed punishing you, he knew he’d have plenty of more opportunities in the future to carry them out slower. 

Your ass was bright red, and you were wondering how on earth you were going to be able to sit down tomorrow, or for the few days after that. You hissed when you felt his warm hands come down to rub your abused skin. 

You began to mewl as he pressed started rubbing his thumb on your clit, feeling the friction of the laced fabric of your panties, making you roll back your eyes in pleasure. “God, did you get this turned on by me punishing you? I mean,what’s the point in doing it if you enjoy it so much?” He asked, “I wouldn’t have expected you to be such a whore that gets this wet after being spanked. I would tie you up and punish you further, but you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He began rubbing harder, and eventually moving your panties to the side, sliding in his ring and middle fingers. 

You mewled at the sensation of his fingers stretching you open. You wanted so desperately to turn around so you could see his beautiful face while he was ruining your body. You were becoming so desperate that you began thrusting back onto his fingers. 

“Fuck, look at you, you desperate cock slut. I think you’re all ready to take my cock.”

“Please, fuck me. Please,” you begged, making him take his fingers out of you, much to your protest. Your insides were clenching at nothing as you were desperate for something to fill you again, preferably his cock. He turned you around so you were finally facing him, back resting on his plush mattress. 

He ripped your panties off, throwing them to the floor, followed by taking stripping himself off his clothes, but before you could even take a look at it, he plunged his cock deep inside you. It was huge. Like really huge. Your back arched off the bed, as Jake slowly started moving in and out of your cunt, your moans becoming louder and louder.

“You’re so good at taking my cock already, yeah. Just like that baby,” he was gripping your hips harshly, which was definitely going to leave a bruise for tomorrow, “Your cunt was made for me, princess.”

“P-Please don’t stop, J-Jake,” you whined, unable to keep a steady voice as his cock kept hitting all the right places inside you.

“I have no plan of doing that anytime soon,” Jake was getting rougher by the moment, speeding up his thrusts, and your mind began fogging up, not being able to handle the mixture of pleasure and pain. 

"I'm go-gonna...I'm gonna cum," you managed to cry out, weakly placing a hand on his chest. However, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above you. 

"Go ahead baby, cum for me," his voice was breathy. He once again began rubbing your clit with his thumb, giving you the final push before your toes curled in as an orgasm washed over you, making you roll your eyes back. Jake felt like he could've cum just by the sight of your body during your release. You looked like a goddess, your body on full display, shining with the sweat of your exhaustion. Your eyes were sultry, squinting slightly, and your body was shaking.

He didn't stop, however, chasing his own release now that he knew he managed to satisfy you. You began sobbing underneath him, "S-sensitive. Baby, p-please...p-please slow down," your eyes were shiny and pleading.

"Not a chance," Jake groaned. Your tits were bouncing as he kept thrusting harder and harder, and you were babbling incoherently as your mind slowly stopped working. A white ring formed around the base of his cock due to your release, making him even harder, if that were possible. 

"I'm going to cum inside you, okay?"

Your eyes lit up at that, and a small smile formed on your lips, much to Jake's amusement. "P-Please, Jake. Please come inside me."

You suddenly felt his seed spill inside you. It felt heavenly and warm, and you never wanted to let go, even with how sensitive your cunt became. The feeling of his seed inside you, filling you to the brim, caused you to orgasm once more, alongside him riding out his own. 

"Fuck, did you cum again?" Jake asked, feeling your cunt clenching around him again, and you nodded softly, your body beyond exhaustion. You weren't sure if you could move at this point. 

He stayed inside you but leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead and rub your hair. "You're already glowing, you know?" You blushed at him saying that. He chuckled at you, "Oh, so you get shy on me now? You were begging me to cum inside your cunt barely two minutes ago and now you're getting all shy?" He teased.

You giggle at him. "I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you whispered, "Hopefully my stamina will be better next time." 

You were startled by Jake's sudden burst of laughter and were confused as he began brushing the hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. 

"Is something wrong, Jake?" You asked.

His grin was still wide, "Nothing is wrong, princess. I just can't believe you think I'm done with you."

You woke up to the feeling of strong arms wrapped around your torso firmly, and Jake’s breath fanning the back of your neck. A little bit of sunlight was peaking through the curtains of his bedroom and you could hear the sound of traffic coming from the outside. 

You placed a kiss on Jake’s hand, groaning as he pulled you closer to him, your body jolting in pain at every slight movement. “Jake, I’m sore, be careful,” you said with a raspy voice. You definitely damaged your vocal cords after yesterday’s activities. 

You could hear Jake chuckle being muffled into your skin, as he was peppering kisses all over the back of your head, neck, and chest, “I guess that was my fault, sorry.”

God, his low morning voice was so attractive. If you had more energy in you, you would have pounced on him now and started bouncing on his cock the way you wish you could’ve yesterday. You needed to have a conversation with him about letting you be on top next time. 

He was rubbing your hips now, trying to soothe the bruises and the marks left all over your body. “I don’t think I even have any clothes that can cover up all these hickeys,” you sighed disappointedly. 

“You could just walk around like that, no? Show everyone how I made you mine last night, and how you’re off limits now.”

“Jake, it’s been a day and you’re already getting this possessive?”

“Can’t help it. My girlfriend is the most perfect being in this world. I’ve had to fend off guys from you since we were kids, and I don’t plan on stopping,” he mumbled into your shoulder blade. 

“Girlfriend?” You asked slowly and timidly.

“What, would you rather be my wife? I wouldn’t mind that either. We could have a wedding on a beach like you’ve always wanted. We could move into a big house in the suburbs, and settle down. I could get you pregnant with my kids,” you felt his erection stiffen as he said that, and continued, “Five minimum, I’m thinking,” he chuckled. 

You slapped his arm and groaned, “Jake! It’s way too early for that, you know that,” you couldn’t help but smile to yourself though. 

Jake laughed at your whiny voice, “Okay, okay. I guess girlfriend will work, for now.”

“Yeah, I like that, boyfriend,” you giggled, finally turning around to face him. 

He pecked your lips before saying, “You know, I actually have a story to tell you.”

You nodded in response, giving him the go-ahead.

“Yesterday wasn’t our first kiss,” he said with a reminiscent smile on his face.

You raised your eyebrows, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about, “What do you mean?”

He began brushing your hair out of your face before continuing, “On your eighteenth birthday, you remember how I took you out to the club because you could legally drink then?” 

You nodded. You apparently had so much vodka that night that you ended up in the toilet with a stressed-out Jake holding back your hair as you emptied out the contents of your stomach for fifteen minutes. 

“You don’t remember much from that night, so I had to explain to you most of what happened, but I kept out one key detail. After you had your,” he looked around as he was wondering for a number, “sixth shot of vodka, I believe, you pulled me up to the dance floor and kissed me, right before you fainted and fell on your ass in front of everyone.”

“You’re joking!” You screeched.

“It happened! I remember it like the back of my hand. I mean I planned on getting drunk with you but after seeing how fucked up you got I couldn’t get myself to drink more than a beer, so I remember it all,” he laughed to himself. He thought of how his eighteen-year-old self would be so proud to know that you were finally his. 

“God, that’s humiliating. Why didn’t you say anything?” You pressed your face against his chest, trying to hide away from him in shame.

“I didn’t want you to react like this. I know you're embarrassed but, I couldn't think about anything other than that kiss for the next few weeks. A part of me was relieved you didn't remember it, but a part of me wishes you did. Maybe we wouldn't have gotten into that mess yesterday if we just realized our feelings earlier," he pondered. 

You leaned up to kiss his cheek, "Don't think about that, okay? Let's not focus on the past because right now, all that matters to me is that you are here and in my arms. And I'm never letting you go, Jake," your eyes went sparkly in the way that always caused Jake to become weak.

"Fuck, I love you so much," he whispered, placing a kiss on your lips once more.

#jake enhypen #sim jaeyun #jake smut #jake x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #enhypen angst

[biolumien]

... carried flower petals

pt 2 to this

notes: I AM. such a bad writer. help. going through double the stages of grief on this one. who even cares. who even gaf! i don't. im winning in the dgaf wars. (lying)

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader NSFW! w/ m/f sex. no i did not proofread this. this isn't a flex i actively just squinted trying not to look too hard at my own writing. this is also hoshina pov word count: 2415

hoshina supposes that he couldn’t blame you for your reaction. there was no way you would have been happy about marrying him, a complete and utter stranger–no matter how many times you might have met prior. and in the three times you’d met, he’d tried to keep his distance. there was an aura of deep discontent about you, and he didn’t want to disturb you, for fear that your anger would turn darker.

at least, until you pulled a dagger on him.

the dagger that he’d gifted you, no less. 

or, well–he hadn’t gifted it to you directly. he had selected the gift, but it had come alongside the marriage offer–and so hoshina wondered if you’d conflated the dagger as something utterly negative. when he’d picked out the dagger, he’d vowed it to keep you safe from harm. a selfish well-wishing on his part, sure–as a samurai, he was bound to make enemies that could hurt you.

he raises a hand to his neck, touching where you might have slashed him.

would he have let you? 

he brings himself to his feet as the sliding door to his room opens. you stand in the doorway, dressed in a simple nightgown–a far cry from the garments you wore during the ceremony. 

his mind flits back to them, for a moment–you’d chosen to wear pure white, contrasting him in his black haori and hakama. your expression had been severe, distant even then. you’d followed your new attendants into the quarters of your new housing within the hoshina clan’s home to change out of your wedding attire, and you hadn’t met his glance once.

you bow your head.

“your attendants tell me you’re quite the talent in bed,” you say, your voice crisp. your eyes meet his, your gaze unreadable. his eyes flick to your hands, folded neatly in front of you–and yet your fingers are fidgeting ever so slightly, a possible indication of just how nervous you were. 

hoshina can’t help but laugh.

“is that what they say? my mother can’t help but find people that run their mouths…” hoshina runs a hand through his hair. “sit. i can’t have my wife–” the word still felt foreign to him–wife, he was really a husband, was that even a moniker that fit him?–but he swallows his misgivings, pats one of the cushions next to the futon. “–standing for so long. it would be unfitting.”

“so are you?” you gather your kimono, sitting down. 

hoshina hums.

“if i tell you, would you see me differently?” hoshina asks.

“well. you’re my husband,” you say. the corners of your lips twitch when you say the word husband, your brow furrowing a little bit as you say it. a clear show of your definite displeasure. “i have to… accept it, after all. as your wife. hell, your attendants tell me that you were in the process of courting concu–”

“ahh,” hoshina leans his head back. “so is that what that’s all about?” he sighs, a strange, tightening pressure forming somewhere in his throat. the marriage acceptance hadn’t been on his end. it’d been his father’s, much to his mother’s chagrin. you were from a no-name clan, having long lost your family’s relevance. his mother had complained about your family’s name dragging down the hoshina family’s name.

but as hoshina reminisced–he couldn’t give a damn about his family name.

his brother–his proud, arrogant, stubborn, awful brother–had made his opinion on their family name very clear, by just leaving.

hoshina did resent him for it, just a little. it just meant that he couldn’t run away, now. 

“no. the concubine rumor’s bullshit,” hoshina says. “quite honestly, i couldn’t be bothered. i’m not in the interest of producing my family an heir.”

“huh?” you ask, sounding confused. “but–” “i mean. the sex is fine,” hoshina says candidly, placidly. “and if the family gets an heir, we get an heir. but it’s never been my concern. i think you ought not to worry about it, either. our families need each other. it’ll be reason enough for you to stay.” 

you stare at him, perplexed for the moment, before your brow also furrows. 

“so, you… don’t, want—”

“mm. you pulled a knife on me last time we talked,” hoshina teases as he begins to undo his ponytail. “i thought that made your opinion on me fairly clear. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable if you don’t want it. my folks won’t be happy, but there’s nothing like lying that can’t fix that.” he runs a hand through his hair. “so it’s your call.”

you watch him. 

“it’s fine,” you say. you lean in closer to him, and he simply watches you—watches you like he did on the first day the two of you met, watches you like he did when you raised the dagger to his throat. always watching, waiting for you to make the first move. 

“i’d rather just get it over with,” you say. “the first time.” 

“mm. as you command, then,” hoshina says. 

when he leans in to kiss you, he does it slowly. you taste faintly of the sake you drank during the marriage ceremony, though the alcohol has long worn off. 

he wishes he could take you apart more cleanly. to take you apart with intention. he can draw the lines from the veins in your wrist to the beating, fluttering of your heart in your breast. you kiss him with your eyes open, as if you’re watching for his every movement. he supposes that he’s watching you, too, trying to see what you’ll do. what you like. 

“are you just going to kiss me?” you murmur, something like spite in your voice. “or are you actually going to show me something interesting?” 

“interesting?” he pulls back from the kiss, raising an eyebrow. 

“i’ve read all the woodcuts,” you say. “as apparently was my duty as your wife. i was just wondering if there was anything more interesting than that.” 

“mm. you can’t possibly learn what it feels like through reading alone,” hoshina says. “experience is the best teacher.”

“big talk,” you retort. hoshina almost hates the way his heart flutters at your words, entranced by you. one hand reaches out to touch your face, the other hand gently reaching down to undo your obi as he pulls you closer to him, letting you straddle his lap. 

“i’m afraid most of my lovers say i’m a talkative one,” hoshina purrs. “but i hope you’ll find me satisfactory.” when he leans in to kiss you again, your sash falls gently onto the ground, and the inner layers of your kimono come undone.  

he’s had no small share of lovers—or, well, general brothel experience, he supposes. he’s a man in the end—a samurai from a family of renown, for whom many lovers might have found him appealing simply for how much money he was willing to pay for good service. but he knows what he’s doing, in any case.

he revels in it, though—at how responsive and jittery you seem to be. the faintest touch of his hand against your skin is enough to make you jolt out of your skin, and you whimper ever so slightly as his fingers pull at a nipple, and he feels your pulse jump in your throat as his teeth graze at your neck. he feels you shift against him, attempt to press your thighs together and he laughs. 

he’s surprised there, too—the way you shudder when he laughs, as he’s pressed against you. 

when his fingers seek between your legs, he’s thrilled, but still surprised to find the telltale sign of slick. 

“mm. this wet already, really?” hoshina teases. his hand brushes against your inner thigh, coaxing you to spread your legs a little more, and he feels your leg twitch against the shift of his knuckles. “you’re desperate.” 

“as if.” your breath sounds shuddery, and hoshina laughs, not meanly. he wonders how he could take you apart—could he use just his mouth? his fingers? the mere suggestion of touching you, just using words alone? he wanted to know, desperately so. desperately in the same way he wanted to know your heart, if only you’d let him. but in the meantime, he smiles—and it’s more of a smirk. 

he takes his fingers to his mouth, sucking the wetness from his fingers, and he revels in the way you flush, a half-scandalized and half-flustered sound escaping your mouth. 

“it’s alright,” hoshina says, teasing. 

“i don’t—need you to tell me it’s alright,” you say, flustered. “i just—”

“less talking from you,” hoshina says, fondly. gently. he’s entranced by you, the swell of your breast and the way your skin flushes red from your neck to your collarbones. he wishes he could sink his teeth into your pulse—or would you give him your beating heart, let him devour the tender organ? “you’re doing wonderfully. do you feel up for more?” 

you pause, biting your lip. he marvels at the way your fingers twitch against his in anticipation, and your brow furrows. 

“let—i want to be on top,” you say, and hoshina simply smiles. 

“alright,” he acquiesces. “i’m all yours.”

that much was true. he was learning far too quickly that he was very much a man that would follow you anywhere, that he was at your beck and call. 

you help him undress with shaking hands, pulling his belt away and pushing the kimono from his shoulders. your hands stop for a moment as you survey his chest—hoshina watches your face, propped back and leaning back on his hands. your fingers press against a deep scar against his chest, and your eyes meet his. 

“long story,” hoshina says softly. “not the kind i’d tell my wife on our first night together, anyhow.” 

your hand gently touches his cock and he hisses, practically, wincing at how it feels like too much and not much at all. it takes most of his discipline to not rut up into the touch, to let himself be taken by that pleasure. you gently push him back, letting him lie back against the futon. 

as you lower yourself slowly onto his cock, hoshina watches as your fingers flex against his chest, your eyes squeeze and your toes desperately curl. he shifts his hips a little bit, and you whimper. 

“don’t tease,” you keen. 

“m’not.”

hoshina thinks it’s quite the opposite, really. he’s a patient man, but not this patient. you’re about halfway down his cock at this point, slowly taking him in bit by bit—and then his patience just snaps somehow when he hears you whine again. not in a bad way—just in a he’ll fucking die like this, he’s sure kind of way. 

you gasp immediately as he thrusts up, causing you to bottom out. your hips meet his, and you lean your head back, a loud and desperate moan leaving your lips. 

“y-you awful man,” you moan out, something like a pout in your tone. “i wanted to take my time—”

“mm—hm. sorry,” hoshina teases, not quite apologetic at all. his voice strains a bit—you feel almost like a fire, your cunt desperately squeezing against his cock. “just don’t think i’ll last long with you squeezing me like this. does it feel that good?”

your face flushes, your hair plastered to your forehead. 

“shut up.”

“i’ll take that as a yes, then,” hoshina says, unrepentant in the way he thrusts up into you, reveling in the way you respond to each movement with tiny little whimpers that stretch into longer and longer cries. you don’t say his name, but he finds himself uncaring for the moment. does he wish you’d say his name? does he wish, however selfishly, that this moment might burn itself into your memory?

surely he doesn’t. it would be unbecoming of him to ask that much. 

your hand leans out, digging into his skin, and he lets out a soft, raspy breath, taking your hand into his. 

“‘m close,” you whimper out through shaking breaths, and hoshina’s heart squeezes again, at the way your hips cant against his, as if each touch almost hurts, but you can’t help but continue to press your hips against his, trying to find more traction. hoshina smirks, his free hand reaching out to thumb at your clit, flicking upwards, and tries to see if he can memorize the way you seize up against him, the way you squeeze down on his cock–tries to see if he can memorize every twitch.

he hopes he can.

you cum soon after, and your hand digs into his so hard that he wonders if you might be able to break his fingers one day–and hopes that you can. he holds you tightly against him, letting you ride out the waves of your orgasm as you whimper tiny uh, uh, uhs–until you wince.

“hurts, i–please,” you say, and hoshina takes pity on you for the moment, pulls out, and strokes soothingly at your face. your chest heaves, and hoshina thinks he could get lost in your every motion. as hoshina shifts to move away–he’d rather prioritize your comfort over his in the end, so despite the fact that he was hard to the point it almost hurt, he figured he’d just deal with it on his own—you shift up.

“but you–you didn’t,” you say after a moment, grabbing his wrist. 

“hm?” hoshina hums. “mm. don’t worry about me, dear. i’m more than capable of–fuck, you–” his voice halts right as your hand wraps around his cock, your thumb grazing over the head of it ever so gently. “fuck. you-you don’t have to–”

“please,” you say, something like disdain–or spite? or something, he really couldn’t tell–in your voice. “i can do this much.”

he cums embarrassingly fast–the mixture of being so strung out at this point, so strangely affected, enamored by you–and he can’t help but laugh. he wants to press his face into your collarbone, but he can’t bring himself to cross the distance. he hums, instead, simply exhaling through his teeth for a moment.

“get some rest,” hoshina says. he watches as your face shifts ever so slightly–and he wishes he knew you better, if only so he could understand what you were thinking.

“alright,” you say.

hoshina fears he’s in love.

but the part of him that knows better says he shouldn’t be. he watches silvery moonlight paint the planes of your back, and you turn away from him, lost in sleep. 

he sighs.

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #kn8 smut

[a-mint-bear]

Your One and Only

Male Yandere x Reader

He begged you to make him yours, but when he feels his status as your one and only is threatened, he wants a reminder.

Sequel to "Make Me Yours"

[content warning: slightly pretty suggestive stuff near the end]

His name was Jacob.

It was a bit of a funny situation, learning his name only after he'd become your... boyfriend? Lover? You really didn't know what labels to use in this situation, or how any of this was "supposed" to work. But you were enjoying your time together, despite the... odd and intense way the relationship began.

Jacob wanted to move in with you pretty much right off the bat, but it was all a bit too much to jump right into. You would be lying if you said it wasn't tempting...

He really was a near-perfect fit for you.

He was super domestic. He loved cooking for you and all his dishes were amazing. He was a bit of a neat freak, so sometimes when you took your eyes off him, he tidied up your place without you asking. Not that you left it super messy, but he seemed like perfect househusband material.

In public, he was super assertive. He stood up for you and protected you from average jerks and actual threats when you were out together. He took charge and it made you feel oddly loved. Like you were the most important thing in his life.

In private, he was still that man on his knees in the park. He was dedicated, completely and utterly yours... He loved to wear that collar when the two of you were alone, although you had to beg him not to wear it out in public. The thought of it did give you a thrill, though you'd never admit it to him. But because of all that, he started wearing more thick turtleneck sweaters.

Well, for that, and for... other reasons. You were embarrassed of how much he liked to show off your... handiwork.

He was very clingy, and he got jealous really easily, but it wasn't really a dealbreaker for you. You liked the feeling it gave you of being wanted, appreciated, even loved. It made you a tiny bit uncomfortable sometimes due to how new the relationship was, Jacob was very intense with his feelings, but with every day together it got easier to appreciate the weird new relationship you were in.

He was attentive, he loved spoiling you and getting you little things when you were having a bad day. Or a good day. Even a completely neutral day. You actually had to tell him to tone it down a little, as much as you liked it, because your place was small and you didn't have a ton of extra space. His compromise was to start getting you food and snacks more often instead, and it worked out just perfectly.

When a bouquet of a dozen roses got delivered to your office, you got a good razzing from your coworkers but you ignored them. There was no note or card, but it wasn't a stretch to think it was from Jacob. He'd sent other things to your job before, like lunch when you planned to eat out someplace or your favorite coffee order when you had an early morning. It was nice of him, you thought to yourself with a dumb smile on your face.

When you got home, you sent him a quick text.

You watched the typing ellipses appear and disappear, then reappear only to blink out of existence and then, nothing.

He'd never dropped off like that before, but you didn't think much of it. It wasn't until he showed up to your place not even ten minutes later that you started to wonder if something was up.

You opened the door for him. It wasn't uncommon for him to come over pretty much every other day (after you'd talked him down from every day) so you were happy to see him. But he had a weird look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was up, you followed his line of sight to the bouquet in a vase on the kitchen windowsill.

You ask him what's wrong, and his eyes snapped back to yours, like he was jolted out of his thoughts.

"Nothing, I... I'm just happy that you... like them."

The smile seemed a tiny bit strained, but he was back to his usual puppy dog demeanor in no time. He was extra attentive, ordering your favorite takeout, but getting it delivered instead of running out to get it or letting you go get it. He clung to you all night, but it was nice, in a way.

You were rinsing the dishes real quick before you continued binging the series you'd been watching together lately. But when you were drying your hands, Jacob came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You laughed, asking him if he was feeling better, but he just pulled you in closer. You could feel his collar pressing into your neck. His breath was hot, tickling your neck as he mumbled his words of devotion against your skin.

"You're so... perfect." He nuzzled into your neck. "I'm so lucky you let me in... that you let me be yours. Just... I promise I'll be good... I just want to be yours. Please, don't... Don't look at anyone else."

This wasn't his usual lovesick talk. You turned in his grasp to hold his face in your hands. You smiled, telling him that he was yours. He melted, leaning into your touch like he needed it more than everything... Needed you more than anything.

"I'm yours... " he repeated it to himself like a mantra, like it was grounding him to that moment. He needed the reassurance that day, for some reason, but you didn't think much of it.

That same excitement, that overwhelming need to control him, to claim him... it was still just as intoxicating as the day he "proposed". You don't think you could ever get tired of it.

. . .

Jacob had stayed the night, and you'd fallen asleep in his arms. You don't know how long you'd been lying there together before you could just feel that you were half-awake, but too tired to even open your eyes. You just nuzzled into his chest as you tried to drift off again.

You could feel him gently working his fingers into your hair, it felt like heaven, and it got a happy little sigh out of you.

"I've wanted this for so long..." he whispered into the calm of your dark bedroom. He must've thought you were sound asleep. "If someone thinks they can take you away from me..."

He kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment to breathe you in.

"...I'll rip their fucking throat out."

You felt... startled? Confused? But it all felt so fuzzy, like the edge of a dream you could barely hold on to. He said it so calmly, like it was just another sweet nothing whispered in your ear. A promise to you he would make sure to keep.

You slipped back into a dreamless sleep, unsure of what was real.

. . .

Jacob made the two of you breakfast, just like every time he stayed the night. But the whole time you ate he was unusually quiet, his gaze flicking over to the vase of roses on the kitchen windowsill.

You could tell this was getting to him, for some reason. Maybe it was best to just get rid of the bouquet and ask him what he was so worked up about.

When he was washing the dishes, you went to get up from your chair and grab them, wanting to at least put them in another room while the two of you had a talk. But you didn't get the chance.

His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, but he wasn't looking at you. He was staring at the flowers with a burning hate you'd never seen a man have for a plant. His grip got tighter until you hissed behind your teeth, trying to wrench your arm away.

He snapped out of whatever the hell that was, fussing over you.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I-I just..."

This was getting weird and more than a little... off. You told him it was getting late into the morning, didn't he need to get to work soon?

That sent him spiraling.

"No no no... please don't send me away..." he whispered. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he grabbed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I'm still your good boy! Please!" His eyes were wide, almost teary as fell to his knees at your feet, his hands in yours. "Please just... look at me! Only me! I can't..."

You asked him what he was talking about, trying to calm him down. It wasn't working.

"You thought those were from me..." He was practically shaking now, but he almost seemed... angry? You blanked for a second at his words, the meaning behind them not sticking long enough to upset him further. "I mean, roses? Really?? You think I don't know your favorite flower? That I'd give you that garbage?? No, no... I know you so much better than that."

It was true that there were flowers you liked more than roses, but you didn't hate them. But if Jacob didn't send you the flowers, who did?

"Someone wants you... they wanna take you away from me... I just got to be yours! I can't... I can't-"

With a shaky sigh, barely holding himself together, he laid his head on your legs.

"I can't lose you... Don't throw me away..."

Nudging your knees apart, he planted soft, tender kisses trailing up your inner thigh. The drastic swing of competing emotions left you more than a little flustered. A hand on top of his head, you were trying to decide whether to push him off to talk this through or tell him to keep going.

"They can't make you feel good, not like I can... I want to show you my love... my devotion..."

Without warning, you felt the dull, throbbing sting of a bite. You yelped, grabbing him by his hair and yanking him back. But all that did was wind him up more, a strangled, needy moan tearing from his throat. His face was a blushing mess, tongue out playfully like his mind was all but fading.

"Hurt me, p-punish me..." he grinned, looking straight into your eyes. "Make me forget everything else but you..."

You yanked him up by his collar and pushed him to the floor, straddling him. The ideas of wanting to fluster him and wanting to get back at him for his little stunt clashing away in your head. You chose good compromise of biting him back, marking up his shoulder as he gasped, letting out excited little "yes"s under his breath.

"Y-yes, fuck yes... mark me up..." He was practically panting now, he was so worked up you could swear you could hear his heartbeat, or maybe it was yours. He tried to sit up, to get closer. "Show everyone I belong to you..."

You shoved him back flat to the floor again, holding him in place with a hand pressed to his chest. The both of you knew he was strong enough to get free with no problem, but he knew that if he did, you'd stop. You kissed him just under his jawline, so tantalizingly close, you knew it was torture for him.

"Please please please..." he whined, sounding so wonderfully needy and desperate. "Kiss me. I'm your good boy. Make me need you so much I can't think straight."

You told him that he wasn't off the hook yet, and he couldn't help but feel so wanted, so loved. He really was yours, and you could do anything you wanted to him.

"Teach me I belong to you, sweetheart." he bit his lip, pushing his luck and grinding his hips up into you. "Fucking ruin me..."

. . .

Jacob clocked into work late that day, but he was more than happy to join his virtual meeting with a shirt cut lower than his usual turtlenecks, showing off his new marks to the coworkers. He pretended he didn't realize any of them were visible. He wanted them to see. What was the point of you marking him up if he couldn't show it off from time to time? Just enough to chase off anyone dumb enough to think about trying to flirt with him.

He still didn't know who'd sent you those goddamn roses, but he had calmed down, for now. He didn't want to do anything to make you hate him. Whoever it was, they were safe for another day.

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

i hope y'all like this one, i don't think i'll be bold enough to post anything more graphic than that anytime soon, lol

Jacob is his name, being your good boy is his favorite game 🩵

im in the (very slow) process of moving so my brain has been fried between packing, apartment hunting and a few days of video games until 3 am to help pass the time. i have one speed for hobbies lol

can you tell that my adhd meds are out of stock? now im writing to pass the time and it feels a lot more productive than Fallout 4 into the wee hours

i think i will post a poll soon so yous guys can vote for the next story i write. but my inbox is always open for suggestions too. tho you should see the notes in my phone, its like 11 different ideas lol

#y'all love yur subby yanderes #yandere #male yandere x y/n #male yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere x reader #male yandere #subby yandere #Jacob #yandere imagines

[malereadermaniac]

Innocent ~ Natsumi x Male Reader

The tall, handsome man has surprisingly little experience, he's too innocent to understand why he's so drawn to you nsfw ahead! MDNI! male reader - fdni! nsfw warning: blowjob (giving), Fingering (receiving), Heat = sweat kink, body worship (recieving), Praise (recieving), feet, scent kink

The sun had been scorching all campers since it dawned this morning, most campers having to pour water on their heads or go shirtless the whole day to avoid heatstroke. Your activity for the day was simple, bake! You and Hiro were really the only two competent men in your cabin when it came to baking, so you two decided on a recipe and gave out a task to everyone; the recipe? Apple pie. The task wasn't simply to just bake, it was to find ingredients and make everything from scratch, and both you and Hiro knew that there were apple trees in the forest behind you cabin. And so, that's how you ended up with Natsumi all alone, tasked with bringing back a few apples back to your cabin - two people necessary due to the height of the trees.

Chatting on your hunt for apples was enjoyable, Natsumi was definitely your favourite cabin-mate, organised and not too shabby looking, but his personality and kind-hearted personality is what made you enjoy his presence. The tall man also loved spending time with you, he was friendly with everyone by nature but when it came to you, Natsumi just felt as if you he needed you to be a close friend; not just someone he politely waved or smile to from time to time. But your friendliness with each other did seem to walk on the line between romantic and platonic feelings...

Take for example the fact that on your walk towards the apple trees, you have had to force your eyes away from Natsumi's slim-fit build at least 5 times already; his quite large muscles on his arms and his heard abs sweating and shining from the searing sun, it made your heart skip multiple beats. But whilst you faced your small feelings for the handsome swimmer, he did not. Not because he didn't like you or want to! But rather, Natsumi as a person isn't that great with romantic or sexual feelings... Which has not only led to the poor man questioning his seemingly random affinity for you, but also popping quite a few boners around you.

Speaking of which (the boners and the feelings that is) was occurring right this very second. Once you two had found some trees with actual apples on them you had to figure out how to reach them.

"Wanna get on my shoulders or should I get on yours?" You ask, a s mile on your had as you tilt your head in a questioning manner

"U-Uhm.. You can get on my... my shoulders!" Natsumi stutters out, unusual for his well-spoken self, a blush also adorning his face - but he just put that down to the heat.

You chuckle at the handsome man's response. You weren't a narcissist or anything, but you knew that you were definitely above average in terms of looks - so you were used to guys being a little nervous around you, you found it cute. You also understood why Natsumi was continuing to stutter when you had made it onto his broad shoulders, your plump and boiling, sweaty thighs enveloping Natsumi's tan face. The feeling of you on him, around him, along with the feeling of your crotch rubbing against his head as you reached back and forth for the apple easily resulted in a lot of blood rushing south of the innocent man - Natsumi blushing profusely at the situation and at the embarrassment of popping a boner in this moment. After getting down off of the muscular man, you noticed it (the massive tent in his shorts that is), but you didn't mention it - Natsumi's face already beat red and the handsome man avoiding looking into your eyes, you felt it was a little unnecessary to call it out. That doesn't mean that you didn't take a note of it, though, or that the fact that your camp crush clearly had some sort of feelings for you.

After gathering a couple of apples and making your way back to the camp, you watched as Natsumi headed straight to his bed and 'smoothly' (very not smoothly) use a pillow to hide his little (big) problem. None of the others noticed though, so you all continued on with baking; a soft blush on your face when you noticed the navy haired man staring at you the entire length of the task. With the pie baked, the others left to hand it in, leaving you all alone in the cabin with a still very embarrassed Natsumi. With the temperature still incredibly high, the two of you were half-naked, skin shiny from the beads of sweat on your bodies - you couldn't help but throw a few glances Natsumi's way, his rock-hard abs glimmering so sexily, along with his pecs and obvious V-line. Natsumi on the other hand literally could not take his eyes off of you...

The way that your sweat shined so beautifully on your (s/t) skin, beads of sweat running along your abdomen as you sexily stretch out on your bed - fuck man... Natsumi's problem had hardened ten fold! When you catch his eyes with yours, you flash him a warm smile, chuckling at the soft pink hue on his usually tan face. "ya know... you don't have to be embarrassed about it" You say, lifting your upper body off of your bed in an upward dog pose; your nipples out for Natsumi to ogle at, along with your sexy arms and brief showing of your abdomen "A-About what?" The flustered man responds, his sharp jawline being shown off as Natsumi turns his head away from you, unable to comprehend why he felt his stomach do backflips whenever he looks at you "Your little... hah... big friend~ It's perfectly natural" You say with a smile, pointing at his poorly hidden boner in Natsumi's khaki shorts The man short circuits at your words. Not only did you just outright mention it, but did you just compliment him?? Now, Natsumi isn't experienced at all, he doesn't understand shit like this or whether or not having a big dick was good or bad... But the tone you used? The comforting smile on your face? Your personality and words could make this man cum alone!

A silence fills the warm cabin, not an awkward silence, but a silence no doubt. That is until your soft voice breaks the thick, sexual tension once more "Want me to help you out?" You ask, working up the courage to make the first move on mr. perfect "How would you do that, (Y/n)?" Natsumi retorts after a moment of pondering, his eyes glued to yours You chuckle back at Natsumi and stand up from your bed, making your way over to the muscular swimmer. Receiving a quick nod from the sheepish man after mumbling 'lemme take the lead...', you go ahead and hold yourself above your shirtless camp-mate; trapping the inexperienced man below you, watching as Natsumi's eyes wander your shirtless body, down to your crotch and back up to your soft face. 'can I kiss you?' you say with a smile, to which Natsumi replies 'O-Of course', his eyes glued onto your soft looking lips. With that, you lowered your face to the sharp-featured one below you, you soft lips pushing against Natsumi's as you took control. It didn't take long for the innocent man to be whimpering into your moan, a few moans escaping his lips from your knee rubbing against his hard dick. Although you didn't want to rush the soft moment, Natsumi was becoming more desperate by the moment, which led to his tongue dancing in a tango with yours as the handsome virgin below you moaned and groaned into your mouth. Your hands roamed the tan man's muscular body as you made-out with him, your thumbs playing with his perky nipples, your palm running along his strong abs and hips as your other held you up above him.

Eventually, you pulled away. Panting above Natsumi, you watched as the man desperately tried to reach your addictive lips once more, his hips humping so sexily against your knee - who knew it would be so hot to hold the reigns once in a while! To soothe the horny man below you, you began trailing down his hot, sweaty body with soft kisses; worshiping his tanned, muscular, slim, masculine body with soft praises and kisses. You made yourself comfortable between Natsumi's legs, resting your head cutely against his muscular thigh, hand running up and down his leg, ever so close to his twitching, clothed cock. Teasing Natsumi resulted in sexy whines accidentally erupting from the man's throat, his eyes glued onto you, pleading with you to do more as you rub your nose gently against his covered hard-on - his briefs absolutely drenched in his sweat and musky scent. But you weren't that mean, so you gave in to Natsumi's needs and pulled down his tight underwear, revealing his fucking massive cock. To say it shocked you would be an understatement. You were surprised that the man was a virgin with a weapon like this between his legs, but whatever, you didn't like to share.

The air in the room had gotten even hotter, aided by Natsumi's heavy, hot pants as he moaned like never before. Natsumi had never even really masturbated before, so a blowjob actually rocked his world! Your eyes were glued to Natsumi's flushed complexion and sweaty body as you sloppily sucked his veiny cock; the man too big to easily deepthroat, so you decided on sloppily licking at and sucking on his cute pink tip and veiny, and jacking off whatever your mouth struggled to reach. Natsumi's moans alone could make you cum, the man sounding so sexy as he moaned incoherent words along with your name so incredibly loud, with such evident pleasure dripping off of his voice. Natsumi's words were also incredible, praises falling off of his tongue would feed your ego and your dick so, so much - constant praises of your beauty/looks, your skill, and how good you were making him feel; it was all so fucking hot! But it wasn't just his moans and praises, Natsumi's body was contorting in pleasure, his hands in your hair tightly pulling you onto his dick as his knees were raised, his feet on either side of your head as his thighs encapsulated your head. Fuck man, sucking off Natsumi was more pleasurable than being fucked by some of your past flings! It didn't take long for Natsumi to cum, he had been holding back so well, but one look at your panting face, your tongue out so sexily with spit and precum rolling down your chin was enough to send Natsumi way over the edge. Tightening his masculine fingers in your hair, Natsumi groaned a deep "(Y/n)" and pulled you with all of his might onto his dick, forcing your face to smash against his pelvis, his pubes stuffing your nose and his massive cock going fully down your throat. You chocked on the massive man's cock, doing your best to relax your throat to be able to breath as Natsumi shot what felt like gallons of his thick, hot cum down your throat; the white substance shooting directly down your throat, pooling within your mouth and even spilling down your chin - this man was pent the fuck UP.

After coming down from his high, the navy-haired man looked down at you, seeing the fucking damage he'd done, and finally pulled his 8 inch monster out of your mouth. Hundreds of apologies flooded out of Natsumi as he grabbed some tissues from his bedside and tried to clean you up; but he couldn't deny that watching his cum drool out of your mouth and down your chin, your teary eyes looking at him with a soft smile on your face as you panted like a horny fucker, holy shit did it turn Natsumi on even more. But slowly, Natsumi's 'sorry's transitioned into 'Thank you's, his voice a little more confident as the handsome man looks down at you, a lazy smile on his face as he basks in the afterglow. After cleaning up, you chat with Natsumi, the post-nut clarity kinda hitting the sharp-featured man as he talks to you about why he was really a virgin; you two talked for a while, about his brother, how gay sex actually works n shit, everything really. That's why, when you went to stand up, Natsumi grabbed your wrist - his sweaty palm nice and warm as his masculine, big, veiny hand wrapped around your wrist. "huh? you want more or something, handsome?" you tease, a quizzical look on your face as your eyes look into Natsumi's "Uhh.... I wanna make you feel good too" The sexy swimmer says, looking up at you with doe-eyes, innocent, attractive eyes. Fuck... how could you not fold?

And that's how you ended up in your next position, with your legs up on Natsumi's broad shoulders and your shorts slid off on one of your legs. The sun had began to set, the golden-hour lighting making you look fucking incredible below Natsumi as his long, masculine fingers made you moan his name like a chant. The inexperienced man couldn't take his eyes off of you, sure he'd seen some porn here and there, but holy shit you looked ethereal; with the sunset's gleam making your sweaty body shine, your eyes rolling back and your sexy panting, you just turned Natsumi on so much! Your praises of his fingers and skill egged the tanned male on, applying what he'd learned in a crash-course in fingering you'd given him. Natsumi instantly found your prostate from how long his fingers were, the man curling his two fingers into your pleasure spot and making you see stars; his eyes couldn't stop darting across your whole body, admiring your flushed face, your sweaty body, your twitching, precum leaking dick, your tight hole around his digits, and Natsumi didn't expect to enjoy the way that your sweaty feet curled in pleasure from his attacks on your prostate. The handsome man did his best to pleasure your whole body, not just your tight walls, kissing your nipples and chest in doing so, marking and biting your thighs and legs and kissing your feet - because, yes, the man is so tall that by the time your legs reach his shoulders, only your feet make it onto them. Natsumi was practically worshiping your body as he made you feel so incredibly good, praising your body and your tightness and warmth as he kissed your hot skin, his dick fully hard again just from the way your hips twitched and buckled, lifted off of the bed towards him with every rub of his fingertips against your p-spot.

Finally, after more kisses with a lot of tongue from Natsumi and more magic work from the man's incredible fingers, you were pushed way past the edge. You moaned Natsumi's name as you gripped at the sheet below you and at whatever skin of his you could reach, your legs twitching in rhythm with your cock as you covered your stomach with your cum; the sight made Natsumi blush, so erotic yet so adorable to him - the man was falling in love. Your panting and soft moans filled the room and the navy-haired man's ears, the air was still as hot as ever and your bodies were sweatier than before, but you both could give less of a shit; the two of you stuck looking into each other's eyes as you panted and smiled, fuck you were both falling head over heels! But after Natsumi breaks a very sloppy and passionate kiss with you to fumble iwth his belt in order to pull out his now re-hardened 8-incher, the attention of the two of you was redirected to the slam of the cabin door; behind which was a very happy looking Hiro, whose face dropped when he saw what filthy activites were occuring in the shared cabin. For God's sake! Now the whole cabin knows you and Natsumi fucked!

Oh well~

You could deal with an angry Hiro and Yoichi for an hour or two if it meant you and Natsumi were now basically seen as a couple by your cabin-mates - and you're sure Natsumi didn't mind either from the way he chuckled as he looked at you with a hand scratching his head.

#gay #male reader #x male reader #fanfic #gay smut #light smut #x male reader smut #mlm ns/fw #mlm #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #bottom reader #camp buddy x male readers #camp buddy x male reader #camp buddy x reader #camp buddy #natsumi camp buddy #natsumi hamasaki #uke male reader #x m!reader #male reader smut #male reader imagine #male reader insert

[dokifluffs]

Late Nights | Kurro Tetsuro

Pairing: Kuroo X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: late night fluffy to help you sleep

Author's note: uh hi! i haven't written in so long this is so bad oof

The sound of your papers echoed through the empty space of the library around you as you shuffled through, looking for the notes you had written on the previous lecture recording 

It was late but there were just a few night owls scattered throughout the library at this hour 

Many took claim to the whole tables compared to the sunlight hours when you would be lucky to even find an empty table

You were no different from the few others, taking claim of your own table 

You sat alone in one of the more unknown corners of the library with the tall reference shelves basically hiding you from the rest of the library 

despite the scholarly masochism you put yourself whenever you came here 

your corner was the one part of the library where the tables had booths instead of actuak chairs, compared to the rest of the library 

though there were other libraries on campus that had these tables 

but this libtary was your favorite 

it was small and cozy and above all, quiet 

You held the flimsy paper in your hands, your eyes burning subtly from the dryness after staring at your laptop and paper for the hours on end 

You lost track at this point 

You didn’t even know what time it was anymore 

But you knew you had to keep going 

A little break never hurt anyone though :) 

You put down the paper and shut your laptop and leaned into the cushioned back of the booth 

You pressed your palms into your eyes, rubbing them, feeling the stinging relief as tears welled up as you stifled a yawn that turned into a sigh 

you stared at the mass of papers and notecards all around you, the array of pens and markers you had scattered all around the table 

if the librarian could see you, she would’ve probably thrown a fit 

you leaned back, resting your head on the top of the booth, feeling the tensions of your shrimp-form curved neck being relieved 

you stared up through one of the tall windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, only seeing the reflection of the library lights on the glass 

not a star was to be seen nor the moon 

You adjusted the hood of your hoodie, the coziness of it, paired along with the relief your body was feeling after no longer being hunched over was amazing 

blissful drowsiness began to wash over you as your eyes grew heavier, and you were drifitng off 

it felt like only a minute when you could feel in your sleep a warm begin to seep beside you, as well as the cushion of the booth sighing as a weight pressed down upon it 

“Y/N,” a gentle, familiar low voice sounded distant as you drifted 

“Neko-chan~” his voice, clearer now, sounded like silk  

Your eyelids and mind protested as you began to wake, forcing yourself out of the drift you were in 

You sat yourself up, instantly seeing the hazel eyes locking with your sleepy ones 

Kuroo Tetsuro 

a warmth slowly spread through your body from your chest as you woke up a bit more, a small smile pulling at his lips seeing you awake 

“what are you doing here?” you asked with a yawn, giving up on shaking off any more sleep 

“You told me you were going to study..” he spoke, honey dripping off his words with his gentle voice 

“but you told me that seven hours ago.” 

He had his chin propped on his elbow, his body turned toward you while the other free hand played with yours, drawing smooth circle shapes as he loosely held your hand 

“oh”

Was all you vould say 

You knew you could and would study for hours but not that long… 

“I texted you but you didn’t respond so I had to come make sure you were okay, neko-chan. I came and you were asleep,” he huffed slowly, though not disappointed nor upset with you 

relieved 

“Mmhm,” you pulled your sleeves past your hands, holding them as you leaned onto his broad frame 

“Let’s get you home, hm?” his voice was just louder than a whisper, kind to you as he brushed the loose little hairs out of your face 

“mmokay,” you murmured, already feeling yourself drift off against Kuroo 

he was your favorite place to rest 

The way his arms would always make you feel safe, the way his massive frame would envelop you whole 

“Come on,” he playfully nudged you just the slightest, knowing you were already more than halfway asleep already. 

“I’ll carry your things and it’s bedtime,” he shook you slowly, his arm wrapped around you, squeezing lightly as he did so 

“Okay,” you drawed out, slowly nodding yourself awake, sitting yourself back upright, no longer on Tetsuro 

He helped you gather your notes, organixing them into a neat pile, wrapping the cord of your laptop and placing them into your backpack as you tyed a rubber band around the stack of your index cards and organized your stationery back into your pencil pouch

He zipped up your backpack, smoothly sligning it over one of his shoulders while the other held your hand 

The two of you began to walk our the library in silence, and walked into the darker campus past the library doors 

“You worked hard.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and petting it after 

the two of you walking through the campus back to the shared apartment right off the edge of campus, his body warmth seeping through your hoodie, which kept you warm against the cool breeze of the night 

Bonus?? - Kuroo POV.

The keys jingled your hand as Y/N held on to the hem of your own hoodie, while your other hand held onto the strap of their backpack 

after feeling the sheer weight of their backpack, now you knew why they were so short 

“In you go, neko-chan~” you pushed open the door, but let them step in first, you following after, shutting and double checking the locks were done 

Y/N was already trudging their feet past the kitchen and about to enter the hall, but you were quicker 

You went behind, and swooped them off their feet, literally 

They let out a gasp but adjusted, their body relaxing in your grasp as you carried them toward the bathroom 

The two of you followed the nightly routine each other had, doing each other’s own thing 

but your routine was much shorter than theirs

You leaned with your arms crossed, a small smile on your lips as you watched, adoring their reflection in the mirror as they sleepily brushed their teeth 

you could feel your heart melting, despite your unchanging expression on your face 

how could someone be so adorable just being hygenic 

when they finished, they just padded across the bathroom, to the entrace toward you 

you looked down to their freshly cleaned face, heart reassemling, melting all over again 

Your body moved faster than you could think, bending down slightly and picking them up effortlessly like a baby 

well they were your baby so 

You got into bed, y/n still latched to you like a koala as you turned onto your side, draping the blanket comfortably around your bodies 

“Sweet dreams,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the forehead you loved kissing, giving one more 

You laid there, brushing your hand to the back of their head, petting them, your other arm already going numb as they used your upper arm as a pillow

but worth it 

you drifted off into your own sleep 

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

#haikyuu #dokifluffs #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagines #kuroo scenarios

[mrs-gauche]

Let's talk about the Red Lyrium Idol

(…Because it's not like this thing has been discussed to death over the past ten years, right? 😂 *drops my two cents in the Scrooge McDuck money bin*)

Ah yes… The red lyrium idol. The one thing that's given me a headache since 2018, as I'm still trying to figure out how this damn thing could possibly fit into my bazillion tinfoil theories.

Whether it's the first official DA4 teaser in 2018, the Blue Wraith comic series or the entirety of the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, a lot of the supplementary media and promotional stuff setting up the course for DA4 seems to be centered around the idol. Quite literally, in some cases, like this mural from the first 2018 teaser:

It certainly led us to think that the idol won't just be another McGuffin (or so I hope lol), but other than that, it's still heavely shrouded in mystery…

Which is why I will now make an attempt to unravel this and gather every single bit of information we have on it (so far) and maybe that'll get us closer to some sort of answer in the end (actually, it won't, because this got SO long that I had to split this post in two parts lol No one's going to read all of this anyway 💀)!

Look, I just needed to get this behemoth of a post out before we might get an actual substantial trailer tomorrow and none of this will probably matter anymore. 😂💀

(Note: This whole thing was initially intended to be solely for myself to keep track of any information we've gotten about the idol since DA2. But since it's gotten SO long over the years, I figured why not just rewrite it into a somewhat coherent text and post it on here? :D ......Seriously, it's really, REALLY effing long.)

The Idol's Journey so far

To me, the idol always seemed to be something like "The One Ring" in LOTR. A forged ancient artifact with creepy unknown powers that is said to feel "alive", almost as if it possesses a will of its own, seeing as it has somehow found its way from countless random people, back to (presumably) its former owner. It also appears to be somewhat cursed, given that almost everyone who held it at one point seems to have died or gone mad by now (Yeah, I'm very worried about Varric and Hawke 👀).

Let us start with a quick summary of the journey the idol has made in the span of about 12-13 years (not counting the unknown timespan in which the last chapter of Tevinter Nights takes place):

First discovered by Hawke and Varric in an ancient Thaig in the Deep Roads.

Stolen by Bartrand, who then made a quick trip to Rivain.

Sold to Meredith, who turned it into a sword.

Taken out of Meredith's petrified corpse by Carta dwarves.

Sold again to a Tevinter mage, who brought it to House Qintara in Ventus.

Handed to a secret agent of Fen'Harel named Gaius (who was impersonating Magister Qintara).

Traded away to Tractus Danarius.

Handed to Magister Nenealeus at Castellum Tenebris to be used as part of a ritual.

Picked up by Cedric Marquette after the fortress fell, while trying to escape.

Handed back to Tractus Danarius, who then probably (not confirmed) went to Nevarra to perform another blood magic ritual.

Picked up by a Mortalitasi who (maybe) took it to Tevinter.

(Supposedly!) ended up in a vault under an auction house in Llomerryn in Rivain, where it was (supposedly!) retrieved by Solas.

That's quite the journey… that you wouldn't even know half about if you didn't read the comics or Tevinter Nights. But whereas the book and comics were all published after the first teaser trailer in 2018, after which the idol became the center of the fandom's attention and speculation, it should be noted that a connection to the idol was in fact already made way back in 2014, when people noticed that the image of Solas holding Flemeth's lifeless body at the end of Inquisition was very reminiscent of something else.

...Which brings us to the point of what the idol is even depicting to begin with.

Description

Before I'll start to give my own description based on the models in-game, the teaser and concept art, I'd like to quote the people who've actually seen it in person.

In the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, we are being told three tales by three different people, who all describe the same idol differently.

The Carta Assassin: "A couple hugging, too thin to be dwarves - but it's sitting there, glowing softly like a ruby lit by the grace of the Maker himself. […] It's heavier than you'd think - lyrium's heavier than you'd think, too, but this was heavy even for that. When I hefted it in my hand, it was like it wanted to keep moving, like it was liquid inside."

The Mortalitasi: "An idol crafted from red lyrium, which seemed to show two lovers, or a god mourning her sacrifice. It whispered in our minds when we saw it […]."

The Orlesian Bard/Solas: "He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other."

The one thing that all of these seem to have in common though is two figures who embrace each other in some way.

Which is interesting, because in all the depictions of the idol we've seen so far, it clearly shows three people instead of two. Granted, the third figure is a bit cramped up in the back of the crowned figure, but what's strange is that not even Solas himself mentions this third figure.

Most notable though is the crowned female looking figure in the center, which is holding onto the two other figures on each side of the ring shaped object (or it's the two figures holding onto the female?). The figures themselves look rather goulish, deadly or skeletal, with their bone structure clearly visible and all their expressions captured in a mix of horror or torment. The small carved-in lines coming from the middle figure's eye sockets also resemble black tears, much like we've seen on "The Mother" in Awakening.

There's also no sign of clothing, which is all the more apparent on the concept art of the idol, in which the breast of the middle figure is.. much more prominent. lol (We don't make fun of saggy boobs in this house, it's just nature and gravity after all, but for the sake of observation, I will note that they do remind me of Broodmother boobs, too 😂), aside from a hint of what could be a veil on the middle figure's head.

At the bottom of the idol, the lower bodies of the figures seem to fully submerge within its name-giving red lyrium and this "claw" type thing, which is coming off in the shape of crystalline red lyrium spikes at the tail end, though in the concept art and the DA2 model, these spikes were clearly more like red lyrium roots. But either way, the bottom makes it kinda look like it's been broken/ripped off?

We can also see tentacle like features, that remind me of the figures we've seen in the mural in the 2020 teaser and the depiction in the 25th anniversary book that revealed to us what the Archdemons were initially supposed to look like. 👀

I'd also like to point out that in the original concept art of the idol, the ears of the crowned figure look much more pointy to me than in later versions. 👀

There's also this "ring", that I've seen many people connect to how the Veil is often portrayed in Solas' murals.

But if this ring is supposed to depict the Veil, then what could it mean for the crowned figure reaching across to hold that ominous third figure on the "other side"?

And yes, I recognize that this ominous third figure also seems to be missing a left arm, just like another certain main character. 👀

The one thing that stands out the most though, is probably the crown itself. Most people might first associate it with Andraste, when the same shape can be traced as far back as ancient statues of Mythal.

Yeah, there's definitely a pattern here. 😂

That being said…

Connection to Mythal & Solas

Okay, we all know about the theory that Andraste might have been Mythal's previous host, right? We all know about the parallels between Mythal's story, Andraste, Flemeth, etc. And after comparing the idol to Flemeth and Meredith in their moment of death, considering all of the above/following and how old this thing potentially is, I will now make a wild guess here and argue that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death.

"He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other. But I could not make out the words, for I fear they were elven."

Not only does Solas seem to hold sentimental value for whoever the crowned figure is supposed to be, while also talking to it in elven, but the way he describes to "caress" the idol in Tevinter Nights does also seem to mirror how Flemythal was comforting him at the end of DAI.

However, I always thought it was a bit odd how Solas describes the idol as "a figure comforting another", when… tbh, "comforting" would probably be last thing that comes to my mind when I look at this...

"Agony" would be more fitting here, maybe? lol Kinda begs the question of how Mythal was murdered, too, with this being her expression in her moment of death? 👀

Without getting too much into it here, if there's one thing we can take from everything we've learned so far about their past, Solas' relationship with Mythal must've been a rather complicated one, to say the least.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

Solas calls Mythal "the best of the elven gods", calling her "the mother, protective and fierce", and Solas is even described in the designer's notes as "Mythal's oldest friend" who is all about free will, yet if the spirit origin theory is true and Cole's cryptic comments in Trespasser are in fact about them, it was Mythal who gave Solas a body against his will, potentially bound/enslaved him with her vallaslin, and maybe even forced him to act against his original purpose?

"You should have seen me when I was younger. Hot-blooded and cocky, always ready to fight."

Cole: "You didn't do it to be right. You did it to save them." Inquisitor: "Solas, what is Cole talking about?" Solas: "A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything."

How much of what happened was Solas acting out Mythal's will, or rather, acting out of vengeance and pain in reaction to Mythal's death? How much of it was him acting downright impulsive?

Solas: “Cole is a spirit. The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.” Varric: “You don’t just forgive someone killing you.” Solas: “You don’t. A spirit can.”

Or was it Mythal's death itself that "wounded him and perverted him from his purpose", just like he described what happened to Cole?

And what does that say about Mythal then, when she clearly hasn't forgiven her murderers and still strives for vengeance after all this time? What if Solas' own perception of Mythal and all the circumstances surrounding her murder is warped because he was once bound to her? 👀

Anyway. To get back to topic.

So if we assume that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death, then that brings us to the next question of why the idol is even made of red lyrium? Or rather, what is Mythal's connection to red lyrium?

We know that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan. Mythal was the first to kill a Titan and mine their blood for things we won't get into in this post. So, how did the idol end up in the Deep Roads, anyway? How long had it been there? One thing that's kinda strange to me, is how the DA wiki page about the idol says that it was forged by the dwarves, solely based on the fact that it was initially found in the Deep Roads, when we have no actual evidence for that. We've seen statues of both Mythal and the Dread Wolf in the Deep Road section in Trespasser where the mining of lyrium was undergone, but we don't know if the dwarves even had any part in building them as well.

Would the dwarves forge an idol of the elven deity who conquered them and killed their Titan, if they were somehow forced to do so? We also have to remember that dwarves were and still are the only ones able to actually mine raw lyrium safely, but even the Carta dwarves in Tevinter Nights had to take several precautions in order to recover the red lyrium idol from Meredith's corpse. And even then, many of them still fell shaking or went mad in its presence like Bartrand.

So if it only takes that little exposure to have that much of an effect on someone's sanity, how were the ancient dwarves or anyone even able to create it in the first place? What if the idol was initially made of blue lyrium but was then somehow corrupted?

And if we take one moment to really think about what an idol actually is.

"An object representing extreme devotion and religious worship to a god."

While Solas doesn't think of any of the Evanuris as actual gods, he still seems to hold Mythal at such a high regard that he wouldn't even speak of her at a sacred place like the Temple of Mythal (whether or not that was because he just wanted to withhold any secret ancient knowledge). He's able to fully recite the invocation to Mythal if you bring him with you to her altar. He also looks exactly like the sentinels in Mythal's temple.

I could go on, but generally speaking, there are so many little hints pointing to Solas being a former slave/servant of Mythal that, again, we won't get into here, but it's important to mention when trying to figure out why the idol (presumably) even belongs to Solas.

"The idol's journey is now complete, and it has found its master."

In Tevinter Nights, the Dread Wolf claims that the red lyrium idol belongs to him. He also made sure to punish those who tried to misuse it, going so far as to march in with an entire army of spirits and snapping a guy's neck with his jaw. (Yup, you're better off not to touch the Dread Wolf's stuff for dirty blood rituals, kids.)

"You use my idol carelessly, and in doing so, you threaten all creation."

Additionally, in the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, Charter and other spies conclude that Solas must need the idol for whatever ritual he's planning, while Solas in Bard disguise claims that he's already in possession of the idol now and therefore, I quote, "cannot be stopped". (Though I personally still don't actually buy a single thing about his vivid tale at that auction house, but we'll get back to this later. lol)

And if the idol belongs to Solas, was he the one who created it, or did he order the dwarves or someone else to make it for him? But why would he intentionally make an idol out of red lyrium, anyway? He is fully aware of the dangers and corruption that comes with being exposed to red lyrium and its use. Especially considering that red lyrium is blighted and how he repeatedly expresses great concern over the Blights and gets furious over the Grey Wardens' attempts to preempt them by killing the Archdemons (because he obviously knows more than us).

So, does he know a way to use it without getting corrupted like everyone else? The Seekers of Truth are so far the only ones we've seen to be immune to red lyrium thanks to having their minds touched by a spirit of Faith during their vigil. Could Solas' connection to spirits/his hypothetical spirit origin allow him to use the idol without it effecting him?

But if any of this is true, then l'm again asking myself what even was the purpose of the idol to begin with? Why or when was it created? How does it differ from any other red lyrium, and what could Solas have used it for in the ancient past?

Powers & Effects

So, let's talk about what this thing can actually do (as far as we know).

(Btw, this is the part where I will shamelessly copy a lot straight from the DA wiki, because truth be told, I'm just a German struggling with limited vocabulary and I figured there's simply no way to summarize this any better than the wiki already has. 💀)

Just like any other red lyrium, we know that being exposed to the idol for too long will make you mad/paranoid/possessive/violent, while also grant you special powers, until overuse causes your body to be completely overtaken by red lyrium. It seems to thin the Veil wherever it is currently kept, allowing spirits or demons to interact with the physical world.

It also emanates a song that is slowly turning people who hear it insane.

The Song

"It sings… sick music." "It eats you inside until you're nothing." "It creeps into your thoughts, humming." "They hear a different song. The song behind the door old whispers want opened. They are dead and dark and done." "Songs screaming far away. It wants to wake up but can't remember how."

(- Cole's comments about red lyrium/red templars)

After Bartrand took the idol and left Varric and Hawke to die in the primeval Thaig, he started hearing voices, claiming the idol was "singing" to him. Even after selling it, Bartrand could still hear the idol and was eventually driven mad by its red lyrium.

Three years later, it is discovered that Bartrand had chipped a piece of the idol off and left it in his estate, which causes the house to behave like it was haunted and the Veil was torn.

Then during the "Haunted" quest, Varric himself remarks several times to hear music while walking through the estate, much like the Carta assassin in Tevinter Nights recalled to have heard "music in the wind, like some old song I heard as a kid but can't quite remember" when obtaining the idol from Meredith's corpse.

Important to mention here is that Varric seems to also be the only one in the party able to hear this song.

Varric: "Hey… is that music? Where is that coming from?" Hawke: "In don't hear anything." Varric: "Where is that singing coming from? You hear it, right, Hawke?" Varric: "Where is that voice coming from?" Hawke: "What voice?" Varric: "I can barely hear it… I wish I could make out the words."

Varric also told us that, after Bartrand went mad, he tortured his non-dwarven servants by cutting pieces off them to help them "hear the song".

(And remember, the idol was found in an ancient primeval Thaig in the Deep Roads, sitting on something like an altar, indicating that it was being worshiped by the ancient dwarves as well. Presumably because they too were being influenced by the idol's/red lyrium's song?)

Haunted

During the "Haunted" quest, we learn that the mere presence of a shard of the idol in the estate causes:

"Voices whispering in the walls"

Random objects moving on their own

Apparitions/screaming spirits appear running across the floors

When Varric picks up the piece of the idol, he starts to exhibit the same symptoms of madness Bartrand showed, at which point Hawke can either let Varric keep the piece, or can take it from him with the intent of having Sandal destroy it.

If Hawke asks Anders to diagnose Bartrand in Act 2, he suspects a demon at work, however Bartrand is a dwarf. Instead, he determines that "his mind has been poisoned by something powerful".

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin recalls that, in the attempt to retrieve the idol from Meredith's corpse, most of his colleagues fell shaking and whispering the closer they got to it.

Meredith

After Bartrand sold the idol to Meredith, she reshapes it into her sword Certainty, which does eventually drive her insane as well. It also gives her unnatural powers, such as the ability to animate the statues in the Gallows, and even limited flight capabilities.

(My question is though, were the things happening in that final fight directly caused by the idol or was this just the result of the Veil being already weakened that much by the many terrible things that happened at that place/Kirkwall in general?)

Anyhow, during the final battle at the Gallows, Meredith overuses the lyrium sword, causing it to burst into dust and petrify her into a statue.

Though as we all know now, some part of Meredith seems to have survived somehow, as her… mind(?) or something was shown to now still "live" within the red lyrium somewhere in Kirkwall at the end of Absolution. She (or "it") also seems to have somewhat control over the red templars now, too.

So, how is this possible? What exactly is she now, if it even is herself and not just a manifestation/echo of her memories or something? Could it have something to do with the idol? No one really knows (and we might never find out, if Netflix won't give us a second season, anyway lol), but I do think it's curious how the idol is likely depicting Mythal's death, who didn't actually die either and lived on through the ages as a type of lingering "wisp" clinging to various hosts. 👀

I also want to point out how Solas did suspiciously include Meredith's petrified corpse in his mural in the 2020 teaser as well, placing her right under that ominous upside down figure with the tentacles.

Furthermore, just like Meredith, the idol also seems to be somewhat indestructable. lol After Meredith's sword burst into dust, it regrew inside her petrified corpse (which Solas was apparently also aware of). What's interesting is that it regenerated in Meredith's chest of all places. You know, like, where the heart is supposed to be? 👀

Then there's also this curious line from Anders, when talking about Varric acting strange after obtaining a shard of the idol:

"This thing's magic seems only more potent when broken."

I've mentioned it before, but with the spikes (or roots in DA2) at the bottom part of the idol making it look like it was ripped or broken off of something, you have to wonder if its current state is somewhat broken, even after regenerating.

"Hot-Blooded"

During the Haunted quest, Fenris will remark this:

"Whatever is here is angry."

In DAI, Cole repeatedly comments on how red lyrium feels "very angry" and how it is "less angry when it's cold". We know for a fact that red lyrium emanates a noticeable heat. A corrupted Bartrand is especially weak to cold/ice magic.

While anger is generally associated with heat, I find this aspect particularly interesting, given that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan.

And building on that, while still searching for further connections between red lyrium, the idol and Mythal… Remember how the ancient sarcophagus in the Blue Wraith and Dark Fortress comic was used in a ritual, in which lyrium combined with fire of a Great dragon carved lyrium infused markings into Fenris' and Shirallas' skin, granting them special powers.

Not only was this ancient sarcophagus specifically built only for elves, and its design resembling that of Mythal's statues…

…but here we have a case in which lyrium is purposefully "set on fire" by a Great dragon to create "elven super soldiers". Mythal is always depicted as a dragon. And she mined lyrium in humongous amounts.

Again, red lyrium emanates heat. If this was common practice in ancient times, then I feel like it's not surprising that a Titan would eventually be pretty damn angry in reaction to its blood being continuously burned for centuries [insert boiling blood joke here].

So, aside from the red lyrium being blighted, could there be a connection in Mythal burning the Titans' blood? As far as we know, it did take a couple of aeons in which Mythal (presumably) continued to mine (and burn?) the Titans' blood, before the ancient elves sealed the Deep Roads for good, because they discovered something… bad. As Solas himself declares in the vision described at the mural depicting a Titan's death:

"Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger." "The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic." "Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast."

And there it is again. That anger we're talking about. What's so interesting to me, is how this does sort of come full circle with Mythal and the idol after all, since the motivation behind Mythal's actions, even after thousands of years, remains her unwavering desire for vengeance upon the people who betrayed and murdered her, which, in a way, does mirror the same anger/heat that the Titan is emanating from its tainted blood.

And speaking of blood……

A Ritual Blade

In Tevinter Nights, we learned that the idol is able to produce a blade, which is then used as part of a blood magic ritual.

"The Tevinter mage was killing his slaves. […] He had cut the throat of one of them, and then another, catching the blood of his victims on the idol as he made his way around the circle. […] The Tevinter mage raised the idol before him, and I saw a spike of lyrium spring from the base of the idol, so that all at once, it was not merely an idol, but a ritual blade. He slashed his own hand, and a wave of power pulsed through the cavern. It was as though we were the blood, and the cavern was the body through which it flowed, and we fell, all of us, to the ground, our minds pulled into the raw chaos of the Fade by the power of his ritual."

In the end of the Dark Fortress comic, the idol produced another red lyrium sword, that could be fully detached and was then placed onto the before-mentioned sarcophagus, turning Shirallas into a raving beserker that was pretty much invincible as long as he was in possession of that same sword.

While the blue lyrium infused sword that was used in Fenris' ritual simply dissolved in the process, the sword produced by the idol could "regenerate" and was especially resistant to Great dragon fire.

"Unlike the lyrium-infused swords of the so-called Arcane warriors, this sword should survive the ritual."

In the final fight against him, Marquette comments on how Shirallas "feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins" and how in turn "the sword heals his wounds".

So in both the comic and Tevinter Nights, the idol/the weapon produced from the idol seems to draw power specifically from the blood of its wielder. It makes me wonder if it was initially intended to be used this way, since we have to remember that it still presumably belongs to Solas, who claims to not practice blood magic, because it seems to make it more difficult to enter the Fade.

Which is ironic, given what the mage in Tevinter Nights did to disrupt the Fade, but also how the Magisters Sidereal used a massive blood ritual to enter the Fade physically.

And oddly enough, in your first conversation with Solas about blood magic, he makes this curious analogy with daggers as an example…

Inquisitor: Every time I've seen blood magic used, it has been for some evil purpose. Solas: I once saw a woman being stabbed in the stomach with a dagger. She died slowly, in angony. It was repulsive. If the Chantry outlawed daggers, would that stop the people from using it? Of course not. […]" Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

So… Could Solas be referencing Mythal's death here? Or what if the dagger here is referring to the idol in its blade form? What the heck does he mean by "I suppose it depends upon the dagger"? Was a slave's life sacrificed to create the idol maybe?

But if blood magic wasn't the sole purpose for why it was made, then what else could the idol as a ritual blade be used for?

Which brings us to…

Dalish mythology

According to Dalish legends, Fen'Harel told the Creators and the Forgotten Ones that the Avvar had forged a "terrible weapon", a blade that would end the war between both clans of gods. He told the Creators that it was forged in the heavens, while the Forgotten Ones were told that it was hidden in the Abyss. And when the gods went seeking it, Fen'Harel sealed them both in their realms forever.

Okay. So, let's just assume for a second that the blade in this legend was actually the idol in its blade form. Because hell, what are the odds of having two "super powerful ancient blades that belong to Solas"? lol

If they are in fact the same weapon and the part about Solas tricking the gods is true, why were the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones so eager to get this thing, to the point that they would fell into a trap?

And with this, I'd also like to point out the level design in the scene in which Flemeth takes Kieran's Old God soul in the Fade. I can't help but feel like the statue of Dirthamen being stabbed in the back with a sword, crying a stream of blood, resulting in a huge pool of blood, as well as a bloody ouroboros symbol on the ground, is a very deliberate design choice. Especially considering the context of this scene with the revelation about Flemeth and Mythal, I'd argue this is all in reference to how Mythal was betrayed and murdered.

Again, the idol could depict Mythal in her moment of death. In the final fresco in the rotunda, the one Solas never finished before leaving the Inquisition, we see a wolf looming over a dragon slain by a blade.

In the last visual of the 2022 cinematic that, going by Varric's narration, could potentially depict the destruction of the Veil, Solas appears to hold something that resembles a blade with a very destinct handle. Additionally, we've since discovered an icon hidden on the Steam page of DA4, that shows a dagger with an identical shape and the same glowy purple as the Dreadwolf title.

So we have the idol in its blade form, the blade Mythal was potentially slain with, the blade Solas is holding in the 2022 cinematic, Solas mentioning a dagger in relation to blood magic and Fen'Harel's blade in Dalish legends.

That's a lot of blades... and a lot of blood. lol

The Hunt of the Fell Wolf

"The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" is the title of a poem that can be found in the Jaws of Hakkon DLC. It tells a story of former Inquisitor Ameridan, his friend Haron and their fight against a demon wolf.

Along with numerous odd things in this tale that could be interpreted as some kind of metaphor (or just the devs messing with us, if you want to know more, please check out this post), it also mentions an "idol of fade-touched stone" in connection to the demon wolf.

The wounded knight in darkness Found within the cavern’s gloom An idol of fade-touched stone, Which could prove the monster’s doom.

In the poem, after a grim fight, the wolf takes Ameridan's friend Haron to its lair, a "labyrinth of winding cave" (which many believe is referring to the Deep Roads, just like the ancient Thaig in DA2 where Hawke and Varric found the red lyrium idol originally) where Haron, oddly enough, also happens to find an idol. What's intruiging though, is that this idol seems to be connected to the wolf in such a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

With burning blade, Ameridan And monster met again Whilst elsewhere did Haron valiantly With demon-wards contend.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

"Beast and spirit—both felled at once"

Two entities that are connected across two different places… as in the physical body and the spirit maybe?

As in the waking world and the Fade?

So, let's reiterate.

The red lyrium idol belongs to the Dread Wolf. Cole remarks how he can feel that Solas is "in both places". The word "Dread Wolf" itself is an anagram for "World" and "Fade". We've talked about the popular spirit origin theory before, Solas taking a physical form against his will because of Mythal. The whole matter of Solas' "true name" before he called himself Pride. Solas' entire personal quest, which may or may not mirror his own past, a spirit of Wisdom being denied its original purpose, turning into a pride demon ("He wants to give wisdom not orders"). His strange remarks at the end of Cole's personal quest ("We cannot change our nature by wishing"). The fact that Solas makes Cole forget about his true identity, just like spirit!Cole does. The visual portrayal of Solas "consuming" Flemeth's powers at the end of DAI. The way in which Solas doesn't recognize anyone in the waking world as "people", but will vehemently debate you on why spirits should be considered people.

"But the People… They need me." (- Solas to Flemeth at the end of DAI) "Never again." (- Solas after burning the mages who were responsible for Wisdom's corruption) "From this moment, should you ever bind a spirit, your life is mine." (- the Dread Wolf's final warning to the mages in Tevinter Nights)

All of this considered, what could the poem in JOH imply for the connection between Solas and the Dread Wolf/the Dread Wolf and the idol?

"They made bodies from the Earth, and the Earth was afraid. It fought back, but they made it forget."

One theory assumes that the creation of the Veil lead to the separation of the ancient elves' bodies and their souls/spirits, assuming that before the creation of the Veil, the Evanuris somehow made bodies from the Titans/lyrium for spirits to manifest and then enslaved/bound them to their will by marking those bodies with their vallaslin.

But if that's true, then what happened to Solas when he created the Veil?

"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap."

In all the murals, tarot cards and illustrations, the Dread Wolf and Solas are always depicted separately.

What really IS the Dread Wolf? And what is he to Solas?

"It was a beast unlike any I had ever seen. Lupine in appearance, but the size of a high dragon, with shaggy spiked hide and six burning eyes like a pride demon, and it came to us on wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons."

From what little we know of the Dread Wolf himself, he only seems to exist within the Fade (that is to say, before the Veil, Solas was already depicted as a wolf, presumably even before his rebellion and before the Evanuris "bestowed" him with the title "Fen'Harel"). In the Mortalitasi's tale in Tevinter Nights, his army of spirits follows the mages back to the waking world, yet the Dread Wolf himself remains in the Fade. In one of the frescoes in the rotunda, Solas portrays the Black City surrounded by the six burning red eyes that resemble those of the Dread Wolf, almost like he's keeping watch over the eternal prison of those he banished. In the Tower tarot card, the Dread Wolf is ominously looming over Solas, almost like it's about to consume him, while in one of the Trespasser murals, it looks more like the Dread Wolf follows his lead. And then there's the DA4 2018 teaser mural, in which they're opposing each other, only seperated by the red lyrium idol in the center of the Veil.

If the red lyrium idol is connected to Solas like the idol in the poem is connected to the wolf, could this be part of the reason Solas is so desperate to find it? Does it possess some kind of spirit? Can the Dread Wolf only be defeated if the idol is destroyed at the same time, just like in the poem?

Where is it now?

So where's the damn thing now?

Well, in my opinion, there are two options.

Option 1) The bard's tale in Tevinter Nights was complete bullshit. lol

Despite Solas trying to convince us that he already obtained the idol in a vault some time ago under an auction house in Llomerryn, it's possible that, much like his whole charade in that chapter, this tale was also entirely fabricated. lol

To make it short, here is a list of arguments for why the "bard's tale" could've been a complete lie:

Solas attended this spy meeting specifically for information on the idol's whereabouts (because he doesn't actually know where it is currently?).

Everything until the last two pages was an act.

Both the Mortalitasi and the Carta Assassin point out several contradictions within his tale.

Upon hearing the other spies assuming that he needs the idol, it would just make sense that he would want them/Charter to believe that he’s now in possession of the idol and “cannot be stopped”, so that they would drop all effort to find it before him.

On the very last page of the book, there's a lists of bullet points of information when Charter is about to write down her report, and it does not explicitly say “He has the idol” but rather just what it looks like, which suggests that Charter didn’t buy his story either.

So if this was all lies, the last known location of the idol would therefore be the unknown person who took it when escaping from the Dread Wolf's spirit army in the Grand Necropolis in the tale of the Mortalitasi.

Meaning that Solas would therefore still be searching for it now. (Which would actually be kind of hilarious, considering how there's likely gonna be a ten year timeskip since DAI, so he would've been searching for the flippin thing for the better part of a decade now. 😂 We know from the end of the Blue Wraith comics that he had followed the idol's path via eluvian, but maybe he just lost track of it at some point? In fact, the last we heard from him, Solas was apparently busy pursuing some Venatori people to get another ancient artifact called the Crucious Stone in the The Missing comic, much like he prevented the Tevinter mage in Nevarra from using his idol. Solas after ten years of searching for the idol was probably like "Oh fuck it, I give up, on to McGuffin Nr 2 then". lmao)

In an interview with the comic writers Nunzio DeFilippis and Christina Weir, they talked about how in their initial draft of Dark Fortress, Solas actually *got* the idol(!!) from two of his agents by using the eluvian located at Nenealeus' place before BioWare stepped in and requested a change. 👀 That version would've explained how Solas was able to track the idol through the eluvian we see at the end. Their own interpretation was that Solas can only overlook a certain radius within the area of where another eluvian is located. Which would actually support the assumption that Solas might've lost track of the idol at some point after Nenealeus left the place… but that's just their interpretation and not official BioWare canon (yet), sooo…. Hm.

Option 2) Solas has the idol now.

So let's assume that the part about him obtaining the idol in Tevinter Nights was actually true and it's now in his possession.

Aside from this, the only thing that could speak for Solas already having the idol in the beginning of DA4, is once again the final visual in the 2022 cinematic.

If this cinematic is in fact playing at the beginning of the game as a general re-introduction to the lore and the last visual is depicting Solas in the middle of destroying the Veil using the idol, then.. well yeah, there it is, in his hand…. at least, for now. Making Solas succeed in the first 10 minutes, I guess? lol

……Unless!

See, a few years ago, I speculated about how the idol might actually be the perfect plot device/motivation for our new protagonist to get involved in the whole Solas deal without even knowing who he is.

Let's say the last visual in the 2022 cinematic is actually showing us a hypothetical scenario, and not something that has already happened/is currently happening. Like, Varric gives this expository narration explaining who Solas is and what might happen if we don't succeed in getting the idol. (Notice how Varric says "And we're the only ones who can stop him" at the end… Like there's still a chance to stop him before this actually happens.) We know from Tevinter Nights that Charter knows that Solas needs the idol for whatever ritual he's planning. And Charter obviously informed the Inquisition/Varric about this as well. So the next logical step for the Inquisition now would be to obtain the idol (whether or not the bard's tale in TN was true) to prevent this ritual at any cost, right?

The comic The Missing re-emphasized that Varric is now in charge of getting people that Solas doesn't know. And this might be where the new protagonist gets recruited by Varric (who is still a spymaster after all) and gets assigned the alias "Rook" for a heist mission to obtain the idol. (And after a very thorough observation of the DA4 reddit leaks from 2023… it looks like Rook might've actually succeeded in this potential quest?)

While we don't know when the stuff in the leaks actually takes place within DA4's storyline, I think it's safe to say that Rook will obtain the idol at some point in the story and that it will play a pivotal role, if the blurb on the Steam page for DA4 is to be believed. lol

As well as what could likely end up being the game's icon, found on the Steam page.

And again, remember how in the Hunt of the Fell Wolf poem, it seemed like Ameridan struck the wolf’s body in the waking world, while his friend Haron killed the spirit (inside the idol?) in the Fade. What could this imply for DA4 then, if we are applying the role of Ameridan, Haron and the wolf in this tale to the Inquisitor, Rook and Solas?? 👀 Is this how we can stop him? The Inquisitor confronts Solas in the waking world, while Rook has to destroy the idol/fight the Dread Wolf in the Fade?

Or could it just be a metaphor for the Inquisitor in DA4 keeping Solas occupied to distract him from Rook, while they can figure out another secret way to deal with him/how to get/destroy the idol?

See, the thing is, we have to remember that this is after all, a video game. lol Meaning that, if our protagonist gets to carry around a powerful ancient artifact/weapon, I would assume that this has to be somehow implemented in the gameplay as well. What we can take from the short footage of the 2023 reddit leak, is that Rook might carry the idol (if it really IS the same thing) while still fighting with their own main weapon in combat. So, what if the idol serves as more of a special power tool outside of combat, for example, like the anchor did in DAI, where it can only be used for special occasions? Let's say, the idol in its blade form can't be used in battle but is able to "split" the Veil or reality, like the anchor was able to open and close rifts? Or, if we assume that the idol is something like an ancient phylactery (which btw is my favorite theory and I will talk about in my second post), maybe it can be used as some kind of "tracking device"? Actually, I'm super curious to learn how Rook is even able to carry it like this in the first place, since we know what kind of effect it usually has on people. lol

~~~~~

Anyway, I'll make a hard cut here now and save the rest of this behemoth of a post for a second separate post (because I also just realized that tumblr doesn't let me add any more images 😂💀), so if any of you actually made it this far... thank you for being just as crazy as me about this and I will post the second part shortly after. lol ❤

#tinfoil time #da4 #red lyrium idol #solas #dragon age 4 #mythal #good god that got long 💀💀💀💀

[theeoriginals]

a Klaus fic with this gem from Ozark “look, I know I kissed you last night but I thought I was gonna fucking die”. Change to fit however you want 😘

the last thing i'd do | klaus mikaelson

author's note; whoever sent this im so sorry it's been in my inbox for seven months

warnings; hybrid!reader, mentions of violence, violence against reader, themes of death, klaus gets crazy :), then there's fluff, a bit of angst still sprinkled in, but there's a happy ending

It's a blood bath, is the thing.

She can't tell what blood is hers anymore, and the ache in her body has done nothing but grow steadily over the past ten minutes. It feels like it's been hours since it all started.

She doesn't remember who threw the first punch, just knows that someone had come at her and she had no choice but to fight back, fight for her life.

There's blood under her nails, and she thinks maybe some in her eyes because they're burning, but it might be the tears shining in them.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Klaus had, for once, been hoping for peace. He was always braced for a fight, but he'd truly been hoping for a painless, quick negotiation.

Of course, it's turned into the worst fight they've had in a while.

She's always been on Klaus's side of things; fights, family, life. She's always had her place here, carved out by none other than the Original Hybrid himself. She's never understood just what he saw in her that earned her this place, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Some– most– call her loyalty a form of naivety. Perhaps the sire bond still lingering, despite the fact that she'd broken it years ago. His siblings call it blindness, or ignorance, in their harsher moments. Her friends, the few that happen to be immortal, too, think she's reckless and just asking for him to kill her. Klaus Mikaelson turns on everybody, eventually, they say. The paranoid, hybrid king trusts nothing and no one. He killed his parents, multiple times, and he's kept his siblings in and out of coffins for most of their immortal lives. Why would he ever enjoy the company of one of his sires?

She's never thought he was perfect. That's something people always get wrong. They think she sees no flaws in him, when really she sees them all for what they are, she sees him for who he really is. She still loves him.

Some days she thinks he knows how she feels for him. Sometimes she can't keep it out of her eyes, and he'll catch her looking at him and his eyes will narrow slightly, like he's warning her to contain it.

Other days, she thinks there's no way he knows, because if he knew the capacity of her adoration, he'd surely have to say something. Tell her to move on. Compel the feelings away, possibly. If he were that cruel to her.

She doesn't think he would be. Since that first day he found her in the woods with what was left of her pack, they'd all watched him in fear. Some confused. Angry. But she was mystified. Enraptured by him and the power that radiated off of him.

She spent a long time feeling weak when she was younger. Even after she triggered the curse. But when Klaus told her she could become immortal, be strong, be at his side, she was the first to accept. The only one in her pack to ask him to turn her.

He'd set his eyes on her, something unidentifiably dark gleaming in his blue eyes, and when she latched onto his wrist to drink his blood, he hadn't looked away from her.

When he cupped her cheeks, he'd brushed his thumbs along the curve of her cheekbones and told her he'd make it quick and painless for her, and when she opened her eyes, he'd be there.

He'd kept his word, then. And he'd kept it ever since.

This, though. He'd given her his word, knowing her hesitance to fight, knowing that unless it was life or death, she'd rather avoid conflict. He promised her there would be no bloodshed here today.

It's not his fault, this time. She needs to tell him that. She needs to be at his side to make sure they're still fighting together, like they have for so long, yet so little time.

She throws a vampire off of her, with nothing but his heart in her palm and she quickly drops it to the ground at her feet. Turning, she pushes through the chaos, trying to cross the room to where she last saw him.

"Klaus!"

Her voice echoes over the mess and she sees him turn in the direction of it, and the fire in his blue eyes has her stopping.

He has blood smeared around his mouth and chin and she knows he's torn out more throats than he can count. The numbers are dwindling on both sides, barely anyone left standing, and she goes to close the space between them when a blinding pain stops her in her tracks.

Her choked off grunt is nearly silent amidst the yelling, but to Klaus it's like a gunshot.

He watches the point of the stake stab through her chest and feels his breath stall in his chest, fingers going numb all the way to the tips.

Her hand comes up, trembling as she skims her fingers over the blood blooming on her shirt around the stake. When she looks back up at Klaus, she tries to say his name but it's suffocated by the blood bubbling up in her throat.

Her knees give out from under her and she hears his hoarse voice yell her name as she goes down.

She can't see it, but she feels the pain that refreshes when he rips the stake from her back and throws it into the heart of the vampire that had attacked her.

She can't see it through the blur of her tears, but the sounds of retreat echo in her ears around the waves crashing.

When Klaus speaks again, his voice is closer and she blinks blearily, finding him hovering above her with wide eyes, looking uncharacteristically scared.

Her brows furrow when she sees the look on his face and when his fingers brush hers, she's quick to intertwine them with hers.

He whispers her name, the sound broken with emotion, and she squeezes his hand unconsciously.

"You're alright," He tries, valiantly ignoring the graying color of her skin despite the fact that he got the stake out of her. "You're alright, love. The pain will go away in a minute,"

She frowns, shaking her head against where he has it cupped with the hand that she's not holding. "Doesn't hurt," She whispers, swallowing roughly around the copper in her mouth.

"What?"

She repeats herself. "Doesn't hurt. Can't feel anything,"

Klaus makes a noise that she thinks might be grief. "No, no, it's alright. Here," He rips his hand from hers and his fangs tear into his skin, and he shoves his wrist against her mouth, letting as much blood drip into her mouth as he can before he heals.

She swallows it dutifully, but that numbness doesn't quite go away, and she wonders why he's so worried about it.

"Sit up," He commands her, though his voice is nowhere near as firm as it can get. "Sit up, and I'll help you the rest of the way. We'll go home, and you can rest."

"Klaus," She says his name, smiling around the syllables. "Come here."

He leans down at her request, eyes fluttering shut on a shaky breath when she lifts a blood-smeared hand up to his cheek. He whispers her name and her smile gives way to bloody teeth.

She uses what strength she can to lean up and kiss him, the pads of her fingers pressing into his pale cheek when he inhales sharply but presses back instantly, deepening the kiss.

She lingers as long as she can until she has to pull away, gasping for a full breath that she can't quite reach.

Still, a smile sits on her lips and when she meets Klaus's worried gaze, she doesn't falter. "Thank you,"

Confusion flutters on his face for a moment, but he jostles her when she starts to go limp in his arms, hand falling from his face. "No," He pulls her weight up, lifting her against his chest as her eyes flutter shut. "No. Wake up. Wake up!"

Silence follows his demands, his pleas, and through the blood on her cheek, a single tear falls from his eye, cleaning as it slides down her skin and falls into nothing.

Despite the silence surrounding him, he feels deafened.

────── 

When she opens her eyes again, she can feel her body again in a way she couldn't before. Luckily, she can't feel any pain.

Her eyes go down to her chest where she knows a gaping wound had been, but there's nothing left, not even a scar its wake and she takes a deep breath, relieved that it's not followed by a throttle of blood coming up her throat.

"You're awake,"

The voice startles her, but she isn't scared when she turns her head against the pillow to look at Klaus. A frown sprouts on her face when she sees him sitting in a chair at her side, looking like he hasn't slept in days. It's not always necessary, but they have to take breaks sometimes, and she hasn't seen Klaus look this tired in a long time.

"I am," She says, swallowing a mouthful of spit in an attempt to wet her throat. "I don't think I should be, though."

"I owe many people a great deal of things, so you'd better stay that way."

His voice is dark and she can hear the anger in it, but she's not used to it being focused on her. "You didn't–"

"Do not," He cuts her off, his words nearly a growl that has her eyes widening. "Do not tell me that I shouldn't have saved you."

He leans forward, grabbing her hand in his, and she shrinks with embarrassment when she remembers how she'd touched his cheek and kissed him.

"Klaus," She squeezes her eyes shut, huffing her humiliation out. "I am– so sorry that I–"

"Don't," He cuts her off again, hand pressing pointedly against hers. "Don't apologize if you don't mean it."

She falls silent for a moment, lost as she looks at him. "I just... I thought I was going to die. And I just– I had to have it at least once."

He visibly swallows and she watches that pretty shine light up his eyes again. "You thought you were dying, and the last thing you wanted to do was kiss me?"

She nods despite the toe-curling embarrassment coursing through her.

He cuts a sharp breath out of his nose, shaking his head.

Before she realizes it, he's hovering above her, cupping her cheeks gently. "Silly little thing," He quietly scolds her, not giving her time to argue before he kisses her, ever so softly, softer than she ever thought he could be. Like she'll break beneath his touch if he doesn't treat her like glass.

When he pulls away and she forces her eyes open, she finds herself fighting off a tingling sensation from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "What'd you do that for?"

He smiles, small and fond. "The next time you kiss me, you don't have to be dying to do it."

"Oh,"

"Don't ever do that to me again," His voice has a warning in it, but she's already smiling too hard to pay attention to it. "You know how I feel about people disobeying my orders."

Her grin is audible when she responds. "Yeah, I do."

#klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson fanfiction

[xenteaart]

it's not about the roses

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but despite a brief mention of the studio it can fit any au, really) word count: 1,1k genre/warnings: er, fluff, a hint of angst if you squint but overall just tooth rotting sweetness. reader being kinda vulnerable author's note: inspired by my and @skzms 's channie brain worms, me crying over how boyfie he is in may's dms and her coming up with this little prompt. i'm manifesting a sweet healthy relationship for y'all, never settle for less <3

you were never the one for flowers, really.

it just didn’t seem anything meaningful or special, an occasional cute little bouquet on some first date you had ages ago, meeting someone completely new after mindlessly swiping them right on a dating app. plus, it’s always such a bother to take care for it. disassemble the thing, cut the stems, change the water, maybe cut off the leaves too.

at some point, you began to think of yourself as more of a practical person, taking gift giving to the point where it completely lost symbolism. always getting your friends and family either money or something they specifically asked for.

“at least, they’re actually gonna use it and get some utility out of it. ‘s good, right?” you thought to yourself, ticking a box on one of your friend’s wishlists for their birthday. it is good. no stress of choosing and endlessly pondering whether they’ll like it or not.

or is it avoiding the vulnerability of going down a more symbolic route if they don’t happen to respond to your gift the way you’d like them to after carefully planting hidden meanings and confessions all over a seemingly useless present? yeah, maybe, that’s the one, actually.

it was a regular saturday evening, no work, no plans, no big day or anything to celebrate. so, naturally, you were just spending the time at your place, resting after successfully having done all the house chores in one go.

purposelessly lying on the bed, you wondered what chris was up to. it wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you two to leave each other hanging during the day, keeping each other’s messages unread and waiting for some free time to give a thoughtful, proper reply.

but the little “1” next to your kakaotalk message was starting to feel unfriendly because... honestly? you just missed him. you wanted to know about his day, what he ate for lunch and whether work was okay today (knowing full well the man couldn’t care less about days of the week, coming over at the studio any time he needed or pleased).

distracting yourself with scrolling tiktok for a quick dopamine hit, you end up losing track of time a little. and the thing bringing you back to reality is chan’s short message, popping up on your notifications bar.

“can you come out for a sec? i’m at the door hehe~”

it takes you three times to read to finally understand what it actually means. he doesn’t have keys to your apartment yet, and you mostly hang out at his place anyways, so him coming all the way to the opposite side of the city makes your heart skip a beat.

you rush to the door and open it almost immediately, only to see channie, your channie, standing right in front of you with a nice bouquet of red roses wrapped up in kraft paper. the next thing you notice is chan’s wide smile, so sincere and endearing it makes you wanna cry on the spot.

you were never the one for flowers, really.

red roses always seemed like something either too vulgar or “easy”. something that becomes men’s first pick because they just never care enough to look for anything else and assume every girl loves it by default.

right now, however, it doesn’t feel like either of those.

the way chris is a bit nervous and really excited all at once; his hands gripping at the crunchy paper-wrapped base as he's waiting to give the flowers to you. the way his eyes sparkle and shine with warmth and genuine adoration for you. and you read past the roses, you learn so much more from it.

you learn how he’s been quiet because he was plotting a little surprise for you, trying not to be too obvious.

you see how he thought of you during the entire process, from an idea to carefully picking out the best flowers, making sure they’re fresh and pretty and will stay this way a while.

you can hear his timid little “thank you” to the florist as they exchange their bows and polite smiles.

you imagine the slightly awkward small talk with the taxi driver asking him about the occasion — the traffic and the parking area next to your building is awful, so you’re guessing he did take the taxi. and the drivers sure love to talk on the long drives, this one you had to learn the hard way.

gosh, chan looks so warm and… so soft, his lips making a familiar heartbreaking :] shape.

snapping out of your thoughts, you look into chris’s eyes and swallow down a salty lump in your throat.

“please don’t be alarmed, but i probably will cry a little,” you warn him before your voice gives out and take the roses, holding them close to your chest where the heart is bleeding.

“so pretty,” you stare down at the gentle velvety petals and sniff quietly.

chan looks worried for a moment but quickly pulls you into his embrace, stepping into the apartment and locking the door behind him.

“hey-y, i expected a smile, not your tears, baby. i didn’t upset you, did i?” to which you shake your head to reassure him.

“no, no, ‘course not! what do you mean? they’re so nice. i’m just… really happy? and i missed you. so much,” the last words come out like a weak mouse squeak as you close your eyes and let your emotions roll down your cheeks, staining your skin wet.

chan nods and takes your face into his palms, wiping away the tears and looking at you so lovingly you think you might actually break.

“i missed you too, baby. do you mind if i stay the night? i…- uh. i bought some face masks too, so we can just relax a little before bed and cuddle?”

you squeeze out a little “yeah” in response, headbutting his forehead and putting your arm around him, with another still holding the roses carefully.

“i love you,” you say slightly louder, making sure that he hears it.

maybe, gifts don’t have to be practical all the time. maybe, it’s okay to put sentimental value into simple, useless things sometimes. make them mean something.

“i love you too, baby,” chris hums still a little confused, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back and planting a chaste kiss on the bridge of your nose.

you reach for his plump soft lips and press yours against them. and even though your tastebuds can feel the salt, it’s the sweetest kiss you two have shared so far.

#skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #my fic #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #chan x you #bang chan x female reader #chan x female reader #skz bang chan #stray kids bang chan #stray kids fanfic #skz fic #my writing #my work #skz fanfic

[mellxncollie]

Temporary pause from working on a Charles' cricket bat gifset to talk about this shot:

It's such a well composed shot! It's the most badass cricket bat moment and this is like the anime-styled, matrix-level, critical hit, crescendo moment for Charles after all of his anger in episodes 3-5, and now he's redirecting it in a way that is no longer terrifying to his friends but supportive (though i would argue most of his anger in eps 3-5 was still very justified).

The negative space here is just *chefs kiss* and gives space for Charles to be focused on. It's simple and uncomplicated, making it easy for us to digest just how badass Charles is.

But like, look at it overlaid with some common composition 'rules'

Rule of Thirds

We've got him fairly well-aligned with the rule of thirds, his body and arm mostly along the lines with the cricket bat ending around that intersection

Then, similar to the rule of thirds, it fits even better with the Golden Ratio

This gets more along his center of gravity, and all that empty space on the sides just makes him even more important in the frame

These two rules, and the next one, are what makes it feel kind of "matrix"-like to me.

Golden Triangles

So maybe this doesn't look like it matches, and you'd be right. It doesn't match the lines of the composition exactly, but the golden triangles shows us that the shot is angled to somewhat align with this composition. Charles is parallel to those shorter lines, and the whole shot guides our eye along that long, downwards line.

If it was angled a little more or less dramatically, then it might not have had as much of an effect. This specific angle makes it feel so dynamic.

You can even use the Diagonal Composition that photoshop has (basically 2 square crosses that align with the 4 corners--with a smaller aspect ratio they'd overlap more)

Here the thing to note is the cricket bat's edge fitting almost too perfectly with that one line.

Golden Spiral (the one where i'm definitely stretching it a bit but whatever)

So this doesn't work as much in the full frame aspect ratio (2.2:1) but if we cut out the negative space, Charles fits along the larger part of the swooping arc. Not as much of a thing to focus on at the center of the spiral, but if we flip the spiral:

The cricket bat is in that spot. I know this is a bit of a stretch of the golden spiral, but all this to say, it's still really fucking cool.

All of these 'rules' aligning like this make it such a satisfying scene to watch. For me, when he catches that cricket bat it's like when a difficult math equation comes out to a whole number, or when a poem finds the perfect rhyme for the very last line, or when you're at the end of a whodunit and the detective lays out how the crime was committed. It's the best conclusion for an already amazing moment, everything falling perfectly into place.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #dbda meta #charles rowland #jayden revri #cinematography #dead boy detectives analysis #cinematography analysis

[cretenu]

PICTURE YOU - KOTAROU BOKUTO

content: bokuto x reader, him confessing to you at a carnival with your friends kuroo, kenma, and akaashi, pure fluff

warnings: a small amount of cursing

notes: yayy my first post! im rlly excited to share this oneshot, bokuto is my baby so i knew i had to write him first :,)

soundtrack: picture you - chappell roan

: ̗̀➛ It was the end of a long, but undeniably fun, day at the fair with your close friends Kuroo, Bokuto, Kenma, and Akaashi. Needless to say, the fair was absolutely Bokuto’s idea. His carefree (and almost childlike) attitude was the reason you fell for him in the first place. You expressed your feelings about Bokuto to Kuroo, knowing you could trust him, even if it meant some lighthearted teasing. What you didn't know is that Bokuto felt the same way for you– and he also confided in Kuroo with his feelings. 

  The sun started to set, painting the sky in beautiful shades of pink and yellow. Despite a day full of rides, games, and food, there was something you guys hadn't done; something your dear friend Kuroo had saved for last. He knew you had a debilitating fear of both heights, and rides that could be set up and torn down in a matter of hours. Yet somehow, you were standing in line for the ferris wheel against your will. A pit sat in your stomach as you stared up at the giant metal structure that swayed with the wind. “If I die of a heart attack within the next 30 minutes, it’s Kuroo’s fault”, you said, shooting him a look that could kill. “Of all the rides you've been on today, you're gonna let the ferris wheel get the best of you?” he teased. It was true. You were dragged onto every strange spinning upside down ride that day, but the rickety build of the ferris wheel managed to make you sick. Bokuto, however, looked as though he could explode from excitement. Watching his childlike wonder brought you some relief. You were too busy watching Bokuto in awe to notice Kuroo slipping the ride operator a five and whispering in his ear. As you neared the front of the ride, Kuroo looked at you and Bokuto with a stupid smile on his face. “Hm, looks like the carts only fit four people!” He said slyly. “Hey, wait a minute!” Bokuto protested, his golden eyes narrowing. “Are you-” Before he could finish his sentence, Kuroo was practically pushing Kenma and Akaashi into a cart with him as he shut the door. A couple carts passed before the ride stopped again, signaling you and Bokuto to enter the empty cart together. You reluctantly entered the cart with him as the both of you sat next to each other. As the ride started moving, Bokuto noticed your death grip on the seat and quickly caught on to your nervousness . “ Y/N are you.. scared?” He laughed slightly to himself. “Scared? No. We're just a thousand feet in the air on a ride that looks like it could collapse any second.” Bokuto laughed and looked at you sincerely as he scooted closer to you on the seat. As you reached the top of the ferris wheel, the light from the setting sun filled the air– and then the ferris wheel came to an abrupt stop.

“We’re dead.” You thought. As if on cue, Bokuto turned to you and saw the fear in your eyes as expected. The wind picked up and made the cart sway slightly, causing you to automatically grab onto the thing closest to you– Bokuto. “Hey, it’s okay.” He said, calmer than normal. “Look.” You followed his gaze. It was a breathtaking view from where the two of you sat. The setting sun overwhelmed you with every shade of yellow imaginable as you looked out on the city. Just like that, the nerves faded away. “It's beautiful..” you said under your breath. “It really is.” He said softly. You could feel his gaze shift from the breathtaking scene to you. “Y/N, can I tell you something?” You turned your head, noticing how he was closer than before. “Hm? Of course.” You said. You couldn't help but notice how the fiery sunset reflected off his golden eyes. There was a hesitance. Bokuto swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and looked into your eyes. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while, but I think you're really awesome and pretty and I totally have a crush on you and it’s totally okay if you don't feel the same-” “Bokuto.” You could off his nonsensical rambling with a blank stare. His expression softened. You laughed softly to yourself before responding. “Did you know I die a little inside every time I hear you refer to me as your friend?” He tilted his head slightly. “I like you, Kotarou. A lot. I actually have for a while now.” Bokuto’s gaze softened and a smile crept onto his face. As the ride finally started to move again, you both noticed Kuroo cheesing at you from a few carts ahead. “Hmph. That asshole.” You said jokingly. “Hey, if he didn't push us, I might've never told you how I feel in the first place!” Bokuto added. “Wait.” You turned to him. “He knew you liked me too?” He nodded sheepishly, his cheeks tinted pink. “Yeah. I might have talked about it a couple times.” A couple times was a gross understatement. Kuroo wished you could've seen the way Bokuto talked about you, absolutely beaming and eyes full of love. He was so into you, yet you had no idea. “That little shit.” You said. Bokuto chuckled. “Yeah he's a bastard, but he means well.” He glanced at Kuroo, who was giving him a thumbs up.

As the ride came to a stop, Kuroo, Kenma and Akaashi were standing at the exit as you and Bokuto walked pitifully to them. Kuroo was still smiling like an idiot; you had been played and he knew it. “Hm, here come the love birds!” He shot at you. “You must want me dead, Kuroo.” You said as the group started walking ahead of you. “It worked out in your favor, didn't it?” Kuroo muttered. “We could've died up there!” You said.  Kuroo laughed at your protests and playfully hit your shoulder. “You're an asshole.” You said. “Nah, you love me.” Kuroo teased. Despite your irritated facade, you couldn't deny your deep appreciation for Kuroo. After all, he was a loyal friend, and he managed to get the stubborn owl head to tell you how he felt.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq #hq x reader #hq photos #hq fanart #hq fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu movie #karasuno #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto koutaro x reader #hq bokuto #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo testuro #kozume kenma #kenma #hq kenma #akaashi keiji #hq akaashi #akaashi x reader

[shuuen-no-cimory]

Also of course, it ain't me if I don't crossover my current hyperfixation with my ultimate current hyperfixation. So... Degrees of Lewdity x ProjectMoon! (This post is full of me yapping as I explain each drawing, so I guess, be ready?)

First, I'll go hard with Whitney as R Corp. 4th Rabbit Team. The initial idea was that he reminds me so much of RHeath LMAO But eventually I love the idea because I think he'd go along with Myo well. Plus... Somehow imagining Whitney in Rabbit Team Hatchery shenanigans seems... Interesting.

Next is Eden. If anyone notice, I originally designed him based of 2 Abnos: Der Freischutz and Big Bird. Der Frei was, of course, a nod to his title as a Hunter, and a marksman as well. For Big Bird... Yeah definitely there's the Big Bird in DoL, yet I think temperance-wise, Eden does felt similar to Big Bird. A creature living in a forest, thinking they protect others by doing the action that definitely doesn't seems to be out of protection. As for RRH, oh think about this: Being hunted down while getting marked. One by a hunter, and another by a wolf. Oh isn't it just reminds me of something...? Right

Funny enough, before I designed the school LIs properly, I reimagined them as The City's feathers. "If they're living in the City and has to work with one Wing, which one they'll work on?" I've talked about R. Corp Whitney earlier so I'll talk about the others! Robin, L Corp. - I can imagine him with the pressing needs to survive under the weight of Bailey's rent ends up either being sent or signed himself up as an agent for L Corp. The Wing doesn't ask that much requirement as per Hokmah's story while the agent supposed to have a great pay (being a wing and all). Hence, I think he might work for L Corp. Sydney, K Corp. - The idea was that after graduating, Sydney might follow Sirris path in science. Being the obedient child she is (as we sees on the game before they get corrupted), she probably choose to do what Sirris might do hence her as K Corp. researcher. Oh anyway, truly this is just a fyi that doesn't seems to be related to anything, I reimagined Harper as Dongrang in this scenario, with the whole Teary-Thing problem exist. Oh, lucky enough for Sydney to help producing K Ampule that definitely just as seen in the canon Limbus story. Just saying. Kylar, W Corp. - This one actually a rather fun idea. This is set with the idea that Kylar work as the Clean Up Member, with parents that's definitely unaware with how their child work but nevertheless proud with him. They'd even use WARP Train solely to be sent off by Kylar each time, much to Kylar silent dismay. If only they know what Kylar has to clean up among the 6 seconds they went into the train... Read one of the reblog tag and yeah. It has to do with Love Town. And pretty much how Kylar had to regularly assemble his parents again and again each trip they made.

LCB! SYDNEY LET'S GOOOO!!!! This idea came as I made my LCB-esque ID Card for Sydney. The idea of LCB Sydney's background was that it's pretty much what happened in the game, but make it The City-esque and seen from Sydney's eyes. It's fun imagining her as a Dieci Fixer who was caught in a complicated issue which she rather dip out from as she hasn't fully grow the backbone to face it yet. Oh right, in this AU I reimagined Ivory as Abnormality and both Sydney and Kylar got their EGO. Sydney got their Longing Phase EGO (HE, Gloom) while Kylar got the Haunting Phase EGO (WAW, Wrath). I actually had a draft of how the EGO works and its gimmick but let's talk it later on lol

When Yield My Flesh event is up on Limbus, my head doing the funny by thinking, "Damn... Jun Wren sounds cool..." then I remember Tingtang exist like jfgdjfgbjd HE FITS BETTER AS TINGTANG WHY DIDN'T I THINK ABOUT IT ON A SIDE NOTE, I also had the thought on how Bailey MIGHT kills it as either a Kurokumo or a Middle. After all, Middle never forget... Just like how Bailey never forget your rent LOL

And last but not least: Sydney and Robin as L Corp. Agent! Robin will be a high Temperance agent which work for Safety Team, while Sydney is the high Fortitude, high Prudence Disciplinary Team Captain. Oh, if you do notice: I made Sydney's cross looks like Penitence EGO Weapon. It's actually based of this idea of how One Sin and WhiteNight's dynamic thematically fits Sydney the Faithful and Sydney the Fallen. The name of both Abnos' EGO Set-- "Penitence" and "Paradise Lost" respectively, both fits the image of each Sydneys. Hence, I draw them in both EGO Sets!

#Degrees of Lewdity #DoL #DoL Fanart #Whitney the Bully #Robin the Orphan #Sydney the Faithful #Sydney the Fallen #Eden the Hunter #Kylar the Loner #Should I also tags PJM related stuff here??? I unno honestly #But yea the easiest way to make me yap is by THINKING about anything PJM #SDBHJDFBJDHFJDFG I JUST LOVE CONCEPT OF THE CITY SO MUCH OKAY #IT'S LIKE... You can make anything inside it YET it also has its own whole sets of worldbuilding that makes you just think #'damn think about all the possibility can happen if these people became part of the City. Like just think!!!!' #This has become a chronic illness fr fr fr #Wren the Smuggler #I FORGET TO TAG WREN IM SORRYYYYY

[chimivx]

ghosting ↠ txt

now playing ↠ "slut!" • taylor swift

He left you with letters. Envelopes that took you five years to finally read, acknowledge. They take you back through your past, forcing you to make moves not only for yourself, but for your family, for your children… His children.

part one of six ~ masterlist

word count ↠ 2573 warnings ↠ (same for all parts) 18+. mentions of drugs, alcohol, smoking. swearing. explicit sexual content. these people have kids, there’s family talk, pregnancy talk. absent dad, messy family ties. stepsib shit, stepcest. infidelity. if any of these things bother you, please keep scrolling. if i missed anything PLEASE let me know!! a/n ↠ the beginning of the end... <3 this has been a wild ride. I love these people. thank you for the support. xo if you're new, please click the masterlist to read about all thats happened to these people before you start here... trust me. <3 posted ↠ 6/6/24 ~ 9:06 p.m. est

 ~ may 2015 ~

Soft rumpled blankets beneath you, a plethora of colors warming your half bare body as you rested against the mismatched pillows thrown along the headboard, some having toppled onto the floor just over an hour ago, you waited. Hair ruffled, a mess courtesy of the boy in the kitchen, you didn’t bother to fix it while you twirled your fingers together, judging your chipped pastel blue polish in the light leaking in from the hallway. 

His room was half the size of the one in your house, not that you’ve seen it recently, you’ve been waking up between the sheets underneath you for the last few weeks. The bed was perfectly placed in the center, big enough to take up most of the space, each end table fitting satisfyingly beside it. A closet was tucked into the wall across from you, just right of the door that creaks when it's moved. 

It was truly the sweetest home. A story high, built in the seventies, the outside was half mint green siding and red brick, the front door stuck on the side of the brick hidden from the street. A single window on the front, one that looked into the kitchen, was a total change from the home you grew up in. Everything was close together, all the furniture, all the clutter. It was lived in. It was homey. And with all the time you spent there, the hominess grew.

There was a living area beside the kitchen, a step or so down to the couches that came from his mothers basement, cozy brown ones she was holding onto until he moved. A wooden coffee table from his best friend's older sister, once covered by his textbooks and notes that now shared the surface space with cases of your favorite movies from home and magazines you scribbled in. 

A piece of you lingering behind when you’d leave. 

Everything would be the way you left it when you came back. The extra pair of shoes kicked off by the front door, the shuffled magazines on the tables with the pen still saving the page you left off on, a sweatshirt slung over a kitchen chair, hair ties on his bedroom floor, a tube of mascara behind the faucet in his bathroom. Preserving your presence. A place for you to unapologetically take up space. 

Safety.

Across the short, skinny hall was another room, a second bedroom flipped into some sort of office space. A bookshelf was shoved to one corner and a desk in the other. Walking in there was like walking into a minefield, bits of school covered every inch, his and hers. Though your little square inch of space couldn’t compare to his mountains. Now that your two years were over, you were ready to burn whatever you had stored in that room.

“Okay, here we go.” His voice was light, yet deep, and even more so comforting. Carrying two wine glasses in his knobby fingers, his tall, slender figure appeared in the doorway with a smile. That smile.

Messy hair, smooth, cream colored skin, glasses perched on his button nose… You could climb him, and you wanted to, and you have. He was yours, the boy rounding the bed, Soobin belonged to you, all of him, not just the parts no one got to see. He was yours, and he was proud of it.

Shirtless, he sat on the edge of the mattress and moved closer to you, smirking at the shirt that hung down over your hips. “That’s my favorite.” Handing over one of the glasses, he snuck a kiss to your cheek.

Looking down at yourself, the acid washed Deadman Wonderland t-shirt you slipped on with Shiro’s face on the front of it made you laugh. It was worn, something he bought back when the anime aired. Tipping your chin back, you took the glass and smized. “It’s my favorite. You nerd.”

Sipping his wine, he almost blew it out of his glass. “Nerd?!” You answered with a nod. Soobin laughed, shaking his head, letting you tuck yourself into his side. Slipping an arm around you, he tousled his fingers through your hair before his hand settled on your hip. “I seem to remember you loving Ganta.”

“I do love Ganta,” you said, gazing up at him. 

Soobin sipped from his glass, his tongue poking between his lips for a second as he took you and your bare face in. “I love you.”

Three words you haven’t heard tumble from a boy's mouth in ages. Taking a deep breath, your cheeks flushing, heart skipping a beat, you blinked. Soobin smiled. It was the first time either of you had said it.

“I mean it,” he continued, eyes aglow with know. “These last few weeks I’ve…” He paused to shake his head, a shy laugh coming out of him. “I’ve felt it, and I know, I know, that this had the possibility to… scare you, but, I had to tell you. You don’t have to say it just because I did, I just-”

“Soobin,” you whispered. Shoving your glass of wine, that you haven’t touched, into his hand, you moved away from him for a brief moment. Feet tucked under you, you dragged your hands through your hair and took another breath. Part of you felt like crying. He was serious, you knew he was serious, you could tell he was serious. It’s Soobin for god's sake, the boy’s never told a lie in his life.

There was a sound behind you, him putting the glasses down, then he shifted on the bed and you felt it, his hands on your shoulders. Digging his fingers into your muscle, his lips pressed the softest kiss to the base of your neck.

With a breath, you shook your head. “How?”

He laughed quietly, and you felt him shrug. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

“I’m serious,” you said, turning around. Soobin’s hands dropped to your knees. Tilting his head he withheld a smile, fingers dancing gently over your skin. “How do you… How?”

The corner of his lips finally tipped up, his gaze positively driving you crazy. Nerd or not, the boy knew what to do. “How do I what?” 

Sighing, you closed your eyes. This was what he did. Communication. Clear communication. Looking at him, you whispered, “How do you love me?”

With the way Soobin’s beguiling gaze fell you would’ve thought the last ten years were splayed upon your face for him to see. Your past tugged at your heart, threatened tears into your eyes and yanked you further from Soobin in this moment more than you’d thought it would.

These words were bound to come up at some point, you’ve been seriously dating for almost an entire year. If you went off the date he first asked, it would be in two days, partially why you were sharing a special night together, to celebrate an anniversary of sorts, as well as your graduation. Fitting he’d save this for tonight.

“I’m serious,” he said. “Don’t do this to yourself.” Lifting a hand to touch your cheek, he hesitated and waited for you to nod, then touched you. He drug his thumb over your cheekbone, brushing away a tear. “Remember what I’ve told you. You’ve come so far, you’ve done great things for yourself. None of what you went through defines the kind of person you are. You are far from unworthy, you are deserving of everything great, everything beautiful and wonderful.”

Placing a hand on top of his, you laced your fingers together and watched him speak, letting his words patch up what they didn’t break. You wish you could say this was the first time he’s had to say something like this.

“You are worthy, and loved. I will never let you forget that. I’m also telling you the truth when I say that I love you. I love you a lot.” Biting onto his bottom lip, he studied your hands woven together on your lap and started to smile. “When you ask me ‘how’, I can’t explain it. You’re exceptional. You’re so kind, and entirely too cute. You’re smarter than me most days, and the way you love things is just… Overwhelming, in the best way.”

Gulping, you breathed and squeezed his fingers. “Not… smarter than you,” you mumbled. 

Soobin scoffed, scooting closer to you. “Are you kidding? You can figure things out faster than I can, my brain takes two to three business days to compute information. You’re wicked fast. You’re quick, you’re a fast thinker.”

Because I used to be sneaky, you thought. Because I was hiding the biggest secret and had to be quick on my feet.

He dropped his chin to meet your eyes that had fallen. “What are you thinking about?” After you shrugged, he said, “You can tell me.” After you shook your head, he said, “Nothing you say will make me-” Love you less.

You could see it all playing out.

Shying away from his touch, you rolled over on the bed and sat on the edge, staring down at the wooden floorboards.

Behind you, Soobin whispered, “Too much, got it.”

Not one bit of it was derogatory. He didn’t even mean for you to hear it. He was good at that, using the good tones when he spoke. You noticed this was something he’d been doing over the year you’ve spent with him. He’d pick up on these moments and save them, log them in his memory, learn from them, and know how to move forward. 

And he has the nerve to say you’re smarter than him.

You were nothing more than an observant, sneaky, slithery snake. A skill that sickened you. How an honest man like Soobin could sit here and tell you he loved you baffled you.

Beneath the guilt, the excitement bubbled. Beneath the, you think, fear? A small part of you was kicking it’s feet. He told you that he loves you. The cutest boy, the sweetest boy, the boy who almost tops every boy you’ve had in bed, the boy who brings you snacks when you’ve forgotten to eat, the boy who tries his hardest to get along with your parents, the boy who tells you day after day how important you are to him…

The boy who didn’t shame you when you told him bits of your past. The boy who keeps the alcohol in his home in an unknown spot, because he cares about you. The boy who has let you sleep over night after night, clinging to him in your sleep, finding sanctuary here beneath his roof instead of your own.

The boy whose brows shot up as you took your time turning around on the bed to face him. He didn’t reach for you, he didn’t say anything. He allowed you to do what you needed to do, he let you go. Everything Soobin did was for you. Never once, in your year of togetherness, did he force you to do anything, did he tell you what to do. All of your choices were your own, freewill. 

As fast as he made the face he pushed it away, not wanting any of his reactions to persuade you to do a thing. His lips rested in that always smile, and his hand took yours as you reached for one of his. Taking a deep breath, you nodded, studying the way your fingers fit between his perfectly. His long, knobby fingers complimenting your own. A perfect match.

“I… I love you too, Soobin,” you whispered. His lips parted. The gentle sigh that fell from them was clearly an accident, one he attempted to backtrack on.

“Hang on, I-”

You cut him off, smiling, letting go of his hand. Climbing into his lap he protested and took his hands to your shoulders. 

“No, I do,” you breathed, slinging your arms around his shoulders. Chest to chest, you kissed the tip of his nose and giggled as his cheeks flushed pink. “Don’t try to stop me from saying it. How could I not?” 

His brown eyes were alive, sparkling, gazing at you in awe. He really wasn’t expecting you to say it back, to mean it, to be so serious about it. 

Everything you’ve shared, everything you’ve done, everything you’ve told him about, it all lived between you in this moment. The past, both of yours, the damage you’ve both endured. When he opened up to you about growing up with a struggling single mother, having to grow up way too fast. The night you cried in his lap on his couch and told him all about Taehyun while he drug his fingers through your hair, letting you speak your truth. 

Taehyun, the fucked up, weird, emotional and physical cheating with Beomgyu, the drugs, how you never knew your father, the night at the club…

Over the last year he’s heard it all, and he’s opened up to you about so much more. And here you both were, holding onto one another, not judging each other for it. Choosing to love one another despite the depth of your shadows. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Soobin whispered, his hands slipping up the back of his t-shirt you wore. “For everything,” he continued before you questioned his words, and you usually would. “I know it’s been hard, especially these last few months, but look at what you’ve done. For yourself.” He paused while you took a deep breath. His eyes were locked on yours, making sure you were hearing every single word he spoke and every unspoken intent within them. “You did that. You.”

Not your mother. Not Taehyun. Not the people who’ve tried to hold you back from living a life you deserved. A happy one, a peaceful life.

You got that here. Wrapped up in Soobins arms, closing the space between your lips, kissing him roughly with an audible sigh, you got a peaceful life here. Falling backward onto the sheets with him as he let you take the lead, tugging down the waist of his sweats, you got the happy life here. 

The make-believe fantasy you once dreamed of, the privacy, the escape, the safety… You got it. This was where you were meant to be.

10/7/2019

.…If I can be brutally honest about all of it, I’m terrified. I mean, this is ridiculous, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Don’t read the bad words, ignore those, don’t use bad words. I use them when I can’t think of anything else to say, and truthfully, right now, I don’t know what else to say. Or do, for that matter. I don’t know what to do. I can’t even talk to my mom about it, and shit, she’d know exactly what to say, she always did. She was the best, and, yanno, I don’t know what’s gonna happen here, but if someday you find yourselves here with me, I’m sick that you’ll never have known her. But, you guys, I mean, shit, you guys have the best mom. The most selfless person I’ve ever met in my life. I know she’ll love you forever, and always. Take care of her, please. Love her. Love her with every bit of your heart, because I know she’ll love you with every bit of her own. You’ll never feel a love more true than hers….

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thank you so much for reading. <3

#txt fanfic #tomorrow x together smut #tomorrow x together angst #txt angst #txt smut #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #soobin x you #soobin x reader #soobin x y/n #soobin fic #soobin angst #soobin fluff #nmwid #cruel summer

[blueskittlesart]

i see discussion abt the traveler in the notes of a reblog and i think it’s very interesting you say that bc honestly i think it’s the amount of disconnect present in The Twins Themselves and The Player that intrigues me but also intensely frustrates me. it feels like “the traveler”/you as a person playing the game and lumine/aether/the twin chosen are two separate entities and honestly that could be Really interesting if it was acknowledged and could fit in nicely with some of the vague themes of otherworldly/fourth-wall breaking stuff and personal autonomy they’ve got going on. but Nope! i think this is yet another issue of the Gacha Mechanic too in a way bc honestly all of the instances of x character bonding with The Traveler ends up pissing me off REAL bad lmaooo. i would much rather there be some kind of genuine distinction in the twin’s dialogue too bc the whole idea of. “oh this character you are playing is Their Own Character but also they have the exact same story interactions and dialogue as their twin” is just. Eeufhhh. maybe this is just a lot of personal issues i have with the setup because i am someone who not only enjoys lore but also characterization and character interactions with other characters and the world around them and i am not a fan of when a You The Player character is thrown into that. sorry for dumping this here i just need to let out these thoughts somewhere

I think what it comes down to is that on launch hyv was worried about player immersion but reluctant to commit to a true silent protagonist. in most actual gameplay, the protagonist twin functions as a silent protagonist, meaning a blank-slate character with no autonomy, completely at the mercy of the actions the player chooses for them. (the only exception to this rule is A-plot quests which directly involve their sibling.) But in the A-plot of the story at large, the twins, regardless of which one you choose, are NOT blank slates in any sense, and that's what leads to the disconnect during gameplay.

Silent protagonists are a method of storytelling unique to video games and they're specifically a vessel to further player immersion, the idea being that a player character whose backstory and personality are unknown or nonexistent is much easier to insert one's self into, thus creating a more immersive experience for the player. I think that this was probably the original intent behind the twins, at least to a certain extent, and is likely at least part of the reason that hyv is still keeping all their story cards so close to their chest--the more we learn about the twins, the less our chosen twin functions as a silent protagonist. In a game with so many playable characters that AREN'T blank slates, hyv may have worried that having no designated player-insert character would break immersion from the get-go. However, the story planned for the game at large relied on a protagonist that was, from the very beginning, NOT a silent protagonist. the twins have personalities. they very obviously have backstories and pre-game relationships with each other at the very least. they have NAMES. The fact that genshin has you 'name' your character who quite literally already has a canonical name and gives you no reasoning behind that is one of the most glaring examples of this weird inconsistency in the writing imo. It almost seems like they want it both ways. they want a perfect silent protagonist for player immersion, but they ALSO want a protagonist who is tied up in the story because of their history and relationships and personality. and it doesn't work, because those two things are fundamentally incompatible. you cannot allow your players unlimited choice in the actions, thoughts, and feelings of your playable character while also requiring that character to make certain choices and have certain feelings and relationships for the story to progress. The result of attempting to do both is a story which promises unlimited choice to the players and then jerks them along in one direction anyways, which only results in frustration and immersion-breaking. there are plenty of ways to do a non-silent protagonist in a video game without sacrificing the player's experience, but what genshin has done is given us this weird worst-of-both-worlds combo that just. does not work.

#asks #sorry for all the genshinposting guys but im so used to using my video game writing hyperfixation to analyze GOOD writing that this is #actually an interesting change of pace. im fascinated by how many things went wrong here

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Chapter 3)

summary: after your first meal in days, you realise astarion might not be all bad like you originally thought. when he offers you more comfort, you start to question his intentions, and yourself.

rating: T

word count: 3.8k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, implied fighter/noble!tav)

cw: a shit ton of tension

a/n: thank you to everyone who voted on both the tumblr poll and the comment section on ao3 of the previous chapter! This gave me a better idea of where to take this. I'm already almost done working on the next two chapters!

a/n²: THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE! I officially retconned some early dialogue from ch. 1 to make it more loyal the canon dialogue you can get with astarion following his ascension (mightve speedran a third playthrough to get there), and a few lines in ch.2 + added anoter part at the end that was originally meant for ch3 but finishing it on what i previously had felt off, so i reworked it to make it more fit the storyline (you might wanna take a peek). this update took more time because of these edits (i also changed a few parts of how i had originally written ch.3 - that took the longest time to assure for a good continuity) NOW WERE BACK IN BUSINESS

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next chapter (soon...)

or keep reading down below~

You don't love me like you think you do You don't know I'm just as bad as you

When you awaken the next morning, the first thing you feel is the ache in your muscles. It had been forever since you were able to sleep soundly, and your body made sure to remind you every time you tried to move a muscle. You were thankful for the soft bed and you didn’t want to leave it, but the smell of your dirty clothes brought you to your senses; you were long overdue for a change of clothes. 

You struggle to get up, but you painfully manage to rest up on your elbows, scanning the room surrounding you. You didn’t want to stay in your putrid clothes, but everything you owned was still neatly packed in the room you rented at the local inn. With a boost of determination, you finally get on your feet to explore the large room. That’s when you notice another door and you open it to discover your very own bathroom. After spending days rotting away in a cell wearing the same clothes, you admit that a bath sounds delightful.

You briefly remember the spawn from the night prior and shout an uncertain ‘Hello?’ that is quickly followed by her opening the door to your room and stepping in, awaiting your next command. She was so quick to answer that you wondered how long she had been standing outside your room.

“Can you run me a bath? Please?”

“Of course, would you like Lord Ancunín to join you?”

“What?!” You’re completely taken aback by the suggestion. “No absolutely not, I would like to be alone.” The audacity. As if you wanted to endure his presence any longer than necessary.

“As you wish, my lady,” the spawn says, as she gets your bath ready for you. Once done, she bows to you and leaves you alone. 

You remove your dirty clothes, carelessly tossing them aside. Taking a good look at them, you don’t even think there would be a point to washing them; your last few days had been rough on you and them, you realise, with the stitching coming apart at a few places. You step into the lukewarm water and close your eyes as you let yourself sink, your breath leaving your lungs progressively until you’re laying flush with your head against the edge of the bath. Your body completely submerged in the water creates the feeling of a warm blanket comforting you, and you let yourself melt in its embrace. When you take your next breath, you’re hit with Astarion’s signature smell; the strong notes of bergamot and rosemary invade your nostrils and suddenly, he’s polluting your thoughts.

You’re taken back to a simpler time, nights when he was still vulnerable and you would let him feed on you, where he would get lost in your neck, and you would get lost in the feeling of his mouth against your skin. Your mind wanders further, as you remember the nights you got even closer; the touch of his cold but delicate hands over your warm skin, his delicate attention after drinking from you, each kiss a silent thank you and I'm sorry. For him, you would’ve done it every night without a second thought, until the end of your life. 

You don’t realise that your thighs have been rubbing against each other, trying to chase relief from the memories you imposed on yourself; memories of his tongue, his hands, his lustful praises, his otherworldly adoration of you. You lose track of time, and a knock on the door brings you out of your reverie abruptly. 

“Breakfast is served, my lady.” You hear through the door. “You’re invited to join, whenever you’re ready.”

You cast aside the daydream you had lost yourself in, unsure if your flushed cheeks were caused by the initial warmth of the bath or your memories of the past, and begrudgingly get out of the water, quickly grabbing a nearby towel to cover up. You walk back into your room where you find a beautiful, dark blue dress with a plunging collar, and black lace all around it and the wrists, laid out for you on your bed. You inspect it some more, noticing the embedded dark brown leather belt at the waist, before slipping into it to realise it's a perfect fit. Of course. This can’t be a coincidence, you think. This wasn’t just some dress he bought, this was made specifically for you. The thought annoys you immensely, but you put the feeling aside for now, walking out of your room at last to follow the spawn to the familiar dining room. Astarion is there as usual, but this morning he seems less tense than before. Happy, even.

“Good morning, my sweet. I hope you slept well.” He smiles as he eyes you up and down, admiring how nice this dress shapes your form.

“I did,” you pause momentarily, reflecting on whether you should let the next words come out. You don’t know why you're struggling so much to utter them, when it was so easy to let it slip the previous day. You take a deep breath and finally speak up. “Thank you.”

He leans back in his chair, pleased. “So, I take it you’ve been enjoying your new commodities?”

“I have, I suppose–” One spawn pulls out your usual chair for you and you pause before sitting down, the act leaving you more and more confused. “...I’m just wondering why you would offer me a room.”

“So you could sleep comfortably after your first meal in days, obviously.”

“But why now? Why not throw me back into that cell I’ve been in for the last, what,  tenday?” 

“That would simply be rude. Your room was ready, it's only fair you get to sleep in it now.”

You take a moment to process the words. “My room?”

“Of course, darling. I doubt you'd want to share a room with me so soon, as much as I would love to,” He gives you a salacious look, one that you recognize from your time spent together in the past. You feel your cheeks grow warm from his gaze. “Until then, you get your own space.”

As you reflect on his answer, your eyes wander over your plate and the rest of the delicacies placed on the long table, and it sparks more questions out of you, although unrelated. “Why do you always have so much food made? Even if I ate, I would never eat this much.”

“This way you can choose whatever you prefer. Isn't it nice to have the luxury of choice?”

You’re taken aback by his generosity. It was such a contrast to the treatment he imposed on you these last few days, you’re not sure what to make of it. Was he genuinely being good or was this some sort of twisted trap? “The food, and now the room, and this,” you gesture towards the dress, “What are you trying to prove?”

“Nothing wicked, I assure you, my dear. I’m just trying to show you how…. Beneficial it is, when you cooperate.”

You lay back in your chair, crossing your arms “And just why would I want to cooperate? Are you going to torture me if I don’t?”

“Depends if your definition of torture includes galas, parties, and soirees among the high society.”

“I’m sorry– what?”

He stands up to walk towards you. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“Even if I did, I hardly have anything to wear, I doubt I–”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off. “I already have the perfect dress in mind for you.”

“Another one? What about my clothes? And all my stuff back at the inn?”

“Oh darling, you can leave those rags, I could have a whole wardrobe ordered just for you.” He sits on the edge of the table, right next to you.

“This is… a lot. I– I don’t know what to say.”

“You can start with a ‘thank you’. And as for the rest, well, we can work out the details later.”

Your clothes were pretty bland, they looked like nothing exceptional given they served you on your continuous adventures; they were meant to be dirtied. You would probably indulge in the offer if it had been about anyone else, but you still felt as if there was an unspoken condition you were agreeing upon if you were to accept these gifts, and you didn’t want to just go in blindly. 

“I still have my personal belongings left over there, though.” You say, with a cheeky tone, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can’t replace those.”

He groans, “Alright, if you insist, go get them.” “...What do you mean? Just... go?”

He laughs. “My sweet, the doors have always been unlocked, you're free to come and go as you wish. I would love for you to stay so that I could pamper you all day and night as you deserve, but I know better than to stop you.”

“Oh.”

“Unless you want me to arrange for one of my servants to fetch them for you?” “No! No, I– uh, I would rather take care of that myself.”

“In that case, I will let you get to it. The doors will still be unlocked when you come back.” He watches as you stay motionless, your eyes going back and forth, clearly confused by this exchange. His hand reaches to lift your chin to face him. “No traps, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to… well, you get it.”

He stands to leave and you get up abruptly, “Wait!” he stops in his tracks, looking back at you, “What about those galas and parties you were talking about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, little love.” He smiles. “Now go on, I would greatly appreciate it if you were back in time for lunch.”

He leaves you to attend to his daily routine and it takes you a few seconds to get up as well and exit the room, without even taking a bite of your breakfast; you couldn’t eat even if you wanted to after this discussion. As you make distance from the dining room, your cadence accelerates and you’re almost running towards the entrance door. You cross paths with many of his spawns, most – you notice – were humans and tieflings, including the one who had been taking care of walking you to your cell and, most recently, your room. They watch as you haste towards the exit without reacting much and this only adds to your state of confusion. When you finally cross the doors, you flinch at the brightness of the sun; the crimson palace was rather dark from the inside, and aside from the large window in your room, you had barely had exposure to the outside world since you’d been retained. As your eyes finally adjust to the light, you finally head for the inn. 

You’re startled by the realisation that, now that you’re out of his palace, you’re consciously making the choice to go get your things to move them in instead of staying at the inn, or even running away. It’s the smart choice, you think. The inn keeps charging me for each day that passes, Astarion lends me a room free of charge. I would be a fool not to take him up on that offer.

But why didn’t you just leave, then? You could just pack your things and go far away from this place. What stopped you?

Once at the inn, you take the time to gather your things; you realise you really didn’t have much. Truth be told, you maybe had 3 changes of clothes and barely any other belongings. Back at the palace, you only mentioned your personal items for the sole purpose of arguing with Astarion, not really expecting this turn of events. You throw your bag over your shoulder and make a last stop to pay the innkeeper, only to be told that your room had been paid for already. You assume it’s another move from the vampire, but when you ask about it, the tiefling employee mentions it was a “white-haired, half-elf woman that looked quite worried – or pissed”, he wasn’t able to tell the difference, “who left in a hurry after paying.” 

Shadowheart.

You can’t believe you had forgotten about her, and the plans you had made to leave with her days ago. 

You thank the innkeeper and walk back to the crimson palace, thinking about what you could possibly do to own up to her. She must’ve already been long gone by now, she only mentioned staying in town for a few more days before you got taken away by Astarion’s minions. Did she think you had abandoned her? No, she must’ve known something had happened to you if she paid for your tab. Was she out looking for you, then? Where would she even be now?

Once back at the palace, you immediately try to find a pen and some paper to write her a letter. She deserved to know you were safe, and if ever your paths were to cross again, you did owe her for the bill she covered. It’s the least you could do. You sit down at your vanity and do your best to share your feelings on paper.

Shadowheart,

I want to preface this by saying that I’m sorry I didn’t reach out before. Things got carried away and I had a lot on my mind. I am safe, and still in town if you want to reach out. A lot has happened since we last saw each other, and I think you deserve an explanation. If you want to talk and know more about it, you can find me at the crimson palace. I’m sure this already gives you an idea of how things are going. And thank you for covering the bill at the inn, I’ll pay you back once I see you again, hopefully over another bottle of wine.

I’m sorry, and I hope to hear from you soon,

Your friend.

You seal the letter and write down her name on the envelope before asking the nearest servant to mail it as soon as possible. There can’t be another Shadowheart in Baldur’s Gate, surely the letter will reach her, you think.

Until she receives your letter, you figure you should stay at the palace, so she knows where to find you.

—

Another day passes and you still have no news from your cleric friend. The days grow long when you have nothing to do but wait in your room. Patience was never your forte, and the more you walk restlessly around your room, the more you feel yourself going insane. You decide to get out and walk around the palace; although you had spent countless days here, you realise you never went out of your way to explore it. 

You're not sure you wanna get anywhere near the dungeons; none of your experiences with them have been pleasant, and from the time you recall spending in them, they didn't seem to contain anything interesting. For now, walking in the hallways would do. You notice how all the paintings were different from the first time you visited. Instead of people, it was landscapes. You don't recognize the places, but they felt peaceful: lots of greenery, small villages, valleys filled with wildflowers. And of course, at least one portrait of Lord Astarion Ancunín himself. You remember back when he ascended, the first time he saw his reflection after 200 years. Had it not been for the fact he had sacrificed 7007 souls to make it happen, you would've been happy for him.

You should be happy for him, you think.

You don't get to linger too long on the feeling when you hear laughter from a nearby room. You walk close enough to be able to see what the commotion was about, and you're shocked to discover the source of the laughter belonged to Astarion’s spawns, his children. You seem to have found their shared room, and unlike what you remember of his siblings, these spawns seemed genuinely happy. While some were playing cards, others seemed to be gossiping while doing each other's hair. You recognize the spawn that has been taking care of you, and for the first time, you take the time to really look at her. She was very young, she couldn't be older than 20 when she turned. Visibly, she was human, you don't think she could be mixed either. She has long, curvy dark brown hair that she visibly took care of, as it was shiny and luscious. She’s laughing with the tiefling who’s hair she was braiding.

You don't want to intrude on their privacy any longer, so you step away from the door only to bump into something.

“Sneaking around I see?”

Or someone. “Fucking Hells, are you trying to kill me?!” “I wouldn’t mind indulging in a little death, so to speak.” 

You groan, “Okay well, next time, try to announce yourself instead of waiting for me to bump into you?”

“Now, where's the fun in that?” He looks up to see what you were previously spying on. “I see you've found my children's room. I do intend on making it bigger as I recruit more of them, but for now, this’ll do nicely.” He looks back at you, “What about you? Has my little pet decided to stick around?”

You roll your eyes at the pet name. “I haven’t. This is… temporary, until I find a better place. And I’m not your pet.”

“Whatever you say, dearest.” He didn’t seem to believe you.

“I’m serious. I don’t–” His smirk makes you stop mid-sentence. He’s toying with me. Asshole. I can play that game too. “I'm only staying until I hear from Shadowheart, then I’m leaving, with her.”

“The cleric, huh? I can only assume this night you spent with her must’ve been… enlightening.”

“You have no idea,” you sneer.

“Tell me, was it anything like our nights together?” You open your mouth, ready to give him a snarky answer but he continues before you can, moving in on you. “Did you get lost in her touch? Did her words soothe your wounds?” Your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gasp when you hit the wall you backed up against, as he leans an arm against it. “Did her tongue dance on your skin like mine did? Did she make you scream at the heavens?” His voice is but a whisper next to your ear and his warm breath sends a shiver down your spine. “But what I want to know more is, did you think of me as she did it all?”

Any thoughts of answering anything at all flies out the window. Your dress barely contains your chest as it rises with each breath you take. He pulls back slightly to look at you with half-lidded eyes and your stressful blinking keeps switching between his eyes and his mouth. There is a part of you that wants nothing but to close this gap between the two of you, make him lose that stupid smile he wore constantly. This irritating… enchanting smile… 

Before you can let any impulsive thoughts get the best of you, he steps back, breaking this unbearable proximity.

“Come, I want to show you something.” He walks away from you without looking back, as if he knew you would follow. And gods dammit, you do. 

You’re silent as you walk behind him, working on getting your breathing back to normal, when you end up in the courtyard. It's modest, but is surrounded by a great variety of flowers, which sparks your curiosity.

“I didn’t take you for a flower enthusiast.”

“I used not to like them, they're gaudy and almost never make a good poison, but I found out some have other uses.”

“What good could they be to you if not as a weapon?”

“Aside from the fact that they can be used to cover the scent of death? Let me see,” He walks around the garden, pointing out each type of flower as he mentions them. “Lavender, for one, is a natural relaxant. Yellow marigolds are believed to improve someone’s mood with their mere presence.” He carefully picks out a flower before approaching you once more. He strokes your cheek carefully pushing your hair aside, before resting the white flower over your ear. “Jasmine, among other things, can even be used as an aphrodisiac.”

Your voice softens following his sweet gesture, “I still don't see how these can be helpful to you.”

“Sometimes, a little persuasion is more effective than any poison, my dear.”

“Has this ever worked out in your favour?” You recall Astarion being a man of action, not reflection; you have a hard time imagining him dabbling in flower concoctions.

“Do I not have you? After everything, that should speak for itself.” 

You sigh, “You don’t. I'm not yours, and I'll never be.” You pull back and turn away to hide your expression. You always stood by this truth ever since you’ve been back, but speaking them aloud this time hurt you. It was the first time you wished it wasn’t true, a painful reminder of what you two had been through. "Those days are long gone.”

“They don't have to be.” His voice drops to a lower tone and you hear him approaching you, but you remain turned away, avoiding his gaze. “We have a chance to be together once more. Think of the power you could have if you were mine; the strength, the security. Everything would be so much easier if you were. You could stay forever beautiful, my eternal flower.” 

Just when you were lost in thought, considering his words, you notice his hand at your side handing you an eccentric dark laced mask. This makes you turn your head around to question him.

“What's that?”

“Consider it as your formal invitation to Duke Stellar’s masked ball. Many important people will attend it, and I want you to accompany me.”

You stay silent; this must’ve been part of the soirees he was talking about a few days earlier, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Met with your lack of answer, he continues.

“The ball is in two days, that should give you plenty of time to think about your decision, but do take in consideration that your dress is already commissioned, it should be ready for the day of the event. Until then, I would suggest that you enjoy everything the palace has to offer. Feel free to revisit it; I made a few changes since I've claimed the place.”

He walks back inside, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. 

You would lie to yourself if you said you weren't at least curious to see what this ball was about. It's not like you had anything left to lose, either. It could take off your mind from waiting on hearing from Shadowheart, too.

Plus, you missed wearing extravagant dresses, moreso ones especially made for you.

-

You don't know me like you think you do You don't own me, but I can't cut you loose

-

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox

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[jianglouyue]

I have learned way too late that Sedna is a real Inuit goddess (thanks @legbird for your post) so I did a little bit of research and I propose a theory:

At the end of episode 8, Niko and the Sprites are in Adlivun, a frozen underworld ruled by Sedna.

I believe Niko did die but, as confirmed by the writers, her soul is still out there:

Yet, this "astral plane" she's in doesn't look like it's either heaven or hell, at least in their catholic/western depictions.

But maybe hell is not the only land of the dead that there is in this universe. This one more or less fits the description of the Inuit underworld, Adlivun.

When she died, Niko had the bear token gifted to her by Tragic Mick which makes it very probable that it was related to Sedna. Since she had it, it seems like Sedna claimed her as belonging to her underworld after her death.

I'm still not sure why exactly Litty and Kingham are there with her, since they weren't even close to her when she died, but it says above that Adlivun houses not only human souls, but also souls of animals and possibly other creatures, so them being there would not rule out this theory.

In the show we don't get any explanation as to why they're gone, apart from this mention by Crystal.

Now, why is Niko there and will she get out?

(Note how Niko is still visibly cold despite wearing thick clothing, sitting beside a fire and sheltering in an igloo. This is a supernatural cold, hence I don't think she was literally physically teleported to the North Pole or something.)

I think we can all agree Niko doesn't deserve to be punished, so perhaps her souls is just going to be kept safe there by Sedna before she can move on?

Hopefully during her stay there Niko gets to convince her (directly or indirectly) to send her back, in one way or another. (Simply as a ghost? As a zombie? As a polar bear?)

Introducing another underworld along hell would have huge implications for the world building but hey what else would this be.

#i don't know #let her come back as a bear #perhaps someone said this before but i camp in the tag and haven't seen Adlivun mentioned yet #not me citing wikipedia as my sources #dbda #dead boy detectives #dbda theory #niko sasaki #tragic mick #my post

[theeoriginals]

Ok so how about a cat and mouse!reader x elijah follow up where she’s back in town and they haven’t seen each other since their last meeting, and she’s caught by him taking something but he’s just happy to see her again so he lets her get away with it bc she’s charming and he loves the chase and banter and flirting 😩

hard to forget | elijah mikaelson

author's note; someone else asked for part 2 to cat and mouse, so here is a small little thing for them :)

warnings; witch!female!reader, elijah is astronomically down bad, fluff, mention of stealing but it's fine, reader is flirty and confident. no use of y/n!

"We've got to stop meeting like this."

"I quite like seeing you like this," She turns with a smile, wicked and sharp, but a genuine happiness shines in her eyes, especially when she sees the smile Elijah fights off at the sight of her. "You're so sexy when you're being all righteous."

Elijah huffs, ignoring the fact that she can make him feel like a blushing boy again. "You're insatiable. And you told me you were going to leave this here when I caught you trying to take it the first time I brought you here."

She purses her lips in a pout when he plucks the figurine of the black cat from her hands, setting it back on the shelf it'd been collecting dust on in the touristy museum tucked into an old building in the Quarter.

"Can a girl not have a hobby anymore?" She nearly whines the words as he approaches her, lifting her hands to drag her nails along his waist, catching on the fabric of his buttoned shirt. "I got bored, baby,"

He hums, looking at her with some twisted mix of reprimand and amusement. "Most people read a book when they get bored. Or go on a walk."

"Both of those sound absolutely mind-numbing."

He huffs out a laugh, unable stop it even though he knows it will just enable her further.

Her answering grin proves that point immediately.

"I do it for us, Elijah,"

"Oh, really? And how, exactly, does this benefit us?"

She straightens her shoulders, meeting his gaze unwaveringly confident. "I get bored and I go looking for things to entertain me, and you ultimately find out and follow me, and then we get to play our fun little game that I know you love. One way or another, it ends up with us in a similar position to this and we're both happy."

Elijah's smile grows more fond as she goes on, and he shakes his head with poorly feigned exasperation. "Darling–"

"I know, I know," She groans, rolling her eyes. "Let's just go. I'll have to find something else to entertain me, I suppose. Maybe I'll ask Klaus if he needs something done,"

"I almost hate that option more. You've only just returned from his last errand, I'd at least like to share a meal with you before you're running off again."

She throws him a wink as she turns him around, pushing him towards the door.

"Don't worry, I won't let him send me far so soon again," She reassures him, fingers skating along the shelf as she follows him out the door back outside into the throngs of people. "I've missed you, you know. I don't like running off to every corner of the country."

Elijah spares her a glance, trying and failing to not look pleased with her words. "You do like it," He corrects her softly.

"Alright, I do," She concedes easily, earning a light chuckle from him. "But I don't like being away from you."

"Does your flattery ever end?"

"You wanna find out, beautiful?" She raises her brows pointedly, earning a ragged noise from him that's choked off as he adjusts his tie, and the flustered action sends her off into a laughing fit that echoes over the noise of the Quarter and has him smiling in spite of himself.

He follows after her swift pace like a loyal dog, hands tucked in his pockets as they slowly weed out from the crowds and make their way towards the compound that's much less populated these days.

As they reach the courtyard, Elijah reaches for her elbow, tugging her back towards him, earning a slightly surprised noise from her as she catches herself with her palms flat on his chest. "How much joy does it bring you to render a thousand year old vampire speechless?"

"I don't think I could accurately describe it, even if I spent the next hundred years trying,"

He shakes his head and finally, finally, leans his head down to press his lips to hers and she hums into the kiss, satisfied with the outcome of all of her teasing.

She was right, after all. They always end up here.

Elijah pulls away after a moment, resenting the need for air in favor of tasting the sweet warmth of her skin again. He's silent for a moment, head tilting just enough to be noticeable, and then he lets out a long sigh. "Niklaus would like to speak to you,"

"I know, I'm ignoring him."

Elijah relishes in his brother's faint, outraged noise, but knows that he won't come disturb them just yet. "Don't let him send you off just yet. I would like to see you again tonight, at least."

"I won't, I promise. We'll have dinner, and a drink or two. I'd also love to end the night in your room, if that's alright with you,"

Heat floods his cheeks and he briefly looks away from her, just to shake himself of her flirtations. "Whatever you want, darling."

She smiles like he's just given her the keys to the city.

Hours later, after their dinner, after their drinks, after they end the night and start the next day with whatever she wanted, Elijah wakes long after she's left on another of Klaus's errands, keeping to her promise of not going far.

When he turns over, his eyes catch on the small, black cat figurine sitting on the table beside his bed. Elijah falls back onto the bed, laughing to himself. Utterly, absolutely besotted with the woman.

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson fic