#the mutual gentleness in this scene makes me so feral

[vastwinterskies]

Their EP 10 interaction never fails to touch my heart qwq

#the terror #the terror amc #harry goodsir #francis crozier #the mutual gentleness in this scene makes me so feral #this show does human connection so well #vast art tag

[blogfullofemos]

Let Me Break The Ice (Part I)

To the moon knight girlies, sorry for the long break. This was inspired by an anon ask I've seen from another blog. It sent my mind spiraling into feral thoughts, my true Britney Spears persona. Thank you and enjoy. 😘

Summary: You had a rather 'very heated' dream which put you into a very compromising position 😏. Would you think your husband Marc Spector would mind?

Warnings: Mentions of rope bondage, mentions of smacking, Daddy kink!Marc, being called slut *gasp*, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, and dubious sensational foreplay. Like that scene of Harry Styles with the watermelon (iykyk).

Word Count: 1,034

        You woke up with a sigh as you came to from the heated dream. “You okay beautiful?” Marc asks with a rest-addled voice, his hand lightly playing with your splayed hair. You look at him with droopy eyes and realize your balled fist was wrapped around Marc’s cotton tank, your other hand inside your pajama pants. The thick quilt barely covering your body as it covered Marc’s up to his stomach.  “Fuck m’sorry.” you apologize moving your hands away from their rather odd places. You shifted your body to face him as he did the same, he rests his hand on the side of your face. He rubs his thumb gently on your cheek as he brushes your hair away from covering your face. He then proceeds to slowly with ghost-like sensation glide his fingers down the side of your neck, you moan lightly from the gentle feel by the rather rugged side of your husband. Your eyes showcasing adoration to the stubbly beard growing out, knowing Steven would shave it off sooner or later for fear of losing his job. But the thought of feeling the stubble prickle your skin reawakened your need with a force. “What did you dream about? You woke me up by your shuffling and grabby hands.” he admits as he glides a finger down to the dip between your collarbone before finally resting it on the bed.

      You bit your bottom lip, deciding if you should expose your masochistic dream to him. But knowing Marc, he was the perfect balance between the 2 of them. “Well, it was a wet dream.” you started, noticing Marc’s sleepy disposition start to sparkle with a requited interest. You smirked trying to hide a giggle. “Continue.” Marc pushes with a poke to your shoulder. ‘Now this is where it might get interesting’, you thought to yourself as your legs rub against each other to ease a rather hungry feeling between them. “We were in a room. Me, You, and Steven… Kind of wonder why Jake wasn’t there since this scenario would’ve suited him better.” you hint, knowing Jake was highly dominant in the bedroom. You place your hand on Marc’s left pec, giving it a squeeze before trailing a finger down the middle of his stomach, stopping at his happy trail to rest it back on his neck. Making Marc shuffle himself closer to your suggestive action. “Well, we switch bodies so I wouldn’t be shocked if Jake came later into the picture. You know he loves to stay back most of the time and watch.” Marc confesses, which you never knew.

“Oh so papi does have a subby side. A cuck. Who would’ve known?” you joke, but as you both laugh Marc brings your right breast out from under your tank top. You gasp as he flicks his rugged thumb across your nipple, he brings his lips to yours in a breathless kiss. Licking your bottom lip before saying “Jake says to be careful with joking on people’s kinks.” Marc pinches your nipple making you jump at the sudden feeling and yelp mere inches from his lips. “You know how this could end tonight.” he finishes.

      Marc flips you to your back so he could be on top. He licks a wet stripe up the side of your neck and blows air on his way back down, making goosebumps form at the chill. You place a hand into his luscious curls as he starts his work on the side of your neck. You close your eyes as you continue, feeling your nipple twirl around your husband’s thumb as your walls coat itself more for his arrival. “O-Oddly enough, you both were in separate bodies.” Marc nips your neck and starts suckling at the redden area “I was tied up in this horizontal position, feet fully off the floor. I-I could feel the rope keep my legs bent and open, pinching my wrists just enough for it to s-sting. Fuck, Marc.” you gasp as you felt his hand leave your breast and go into your pajama pants.

His index finger slowly circling your clit with just enough pressure, Marc’s stubbly chin adding more sensation to your building orgasm. “Don’t stop now (Y/N).” he groans. You try to recollect the dream, even as it felt like you were reliving it’s pent-up frustration. “St-Steven’s head was between my legs as he.. Fuck.. As he ate me out.” Marc grinds against your thigh, finally letting you feel his hard cock under his pants “I-I was crying because I was so close. MArc!” you yelp as his finger picks up the pace on your swollen clit. You lick your palm, letting as much saliva stick to its surface before bringing the hand into Marc’s pants. Taking hold of just the tip of his cock, “Baby.” he moans, stopping his bruising artworks on your neck. His breathing labored as you continue, “And fuck Marc you were so good to me.”. You could feel his tip become extra lubricated from his precum as he moans your name. 

      “You were pulling my hair till I could feel every point in my scalp plead for release, but you didn’t let go. You kept me looking at those sexy brown eyes of yours as you were saying the filthiest things.” you say as you feel his hand lose its rhythm on your clit as your palm rubbed against his tip with almost painful pressure. You turn your head to look at Marc’s eyelashes flutter as he focused on your hand job. “Ye-ah baby, what did I sa-ay?” he asks looking at you, dazed in pleasure. 

“Look at my slut, begging to be filled with Daddy’s cum. Oh you should see yourself, crying for Steven to bring you to completion. I can see your fingers dying to touch yourself, but you can’t… And you slapped me, telling me to be a good little cock whore for you both.” you answer, making Marc pump his cock in your hold, short and fast. He grips the side of your hair, making you look into his lust blown eyes. “Do you want Daddy to fuck you tonight?” being his last coherent sentence for the night.

#marvel #moon knight #marc spector #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #daddy marc spector #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fandom #moon knight smut #moon knight mini series

[flowerandblood]

Make your mutuals smile 💐

Write what you love about them and why, or just praise them, share your favorite memories or chats. In the times when everyone get so much underserved hate from anons let's spread some warm feelings.

@ewanmitchellcrumbs - Ange, you're the most warm, understanding, caring person I know here. I know that sometimes you feel like your mutuals don't give in return as much as they could and you're right, but know how much you're appreciated. You're not only talented writer that can write almost EVERTYHING but your knowledge about Ewan and fandom is soooo big, I love to read your answers to asks! You feed this fandom so well, without you it wouldn't be the same.

@zenka69 - You're with me from the very beginning, supportive and caring, my sweet polish friend! Thanks to you I wanted to write more of the "My Best Friend" and well, I wrote so many fics from then on and you're still with me!!!

@sagelovesreading - My sweet friend, our talks on priv warms my heart as much as your comments. I love to talk to you, you're so sweet, gentle person, I love how emotionally you're approaching my works, and I'm so happy that you have to courage to write to me!!!!

@valeskafics - You're so sweet, self conscious person, so talented and funny, I love you with all my heart! Love to read your fics and your answers, you're hilarious but so supportive too, your reblogs makes my heart melt and I always wait for them!

@barbieaemond - You're so fuckin talented, your gifs are just chef's kiss, but your Red Bird is soooo good already! I know that you get couple of mean anons but fuck them, I love how you wirite Aemond, I love that you decide to write OC and not normal "reader" even if people prefer the second more because it feels like YOUR story and I want to read it even more because of that.

@targaryenrealnessdarling - I would have to write an essay about how talented you are, literally everything you write makes me feral, you're so kind, so good, so funny, you writes your characters so well and don't afraid to show really dark Aemond even when some of people would be whining about it.

@asumofwords - We don't know each other at all but well I LOVE YOU OKAY you're the best writer here, I read everything you update and it's always SO GOOD, you write your characters, scenes and emotions so well, you are so funny and bitchy, don't give a shit about weird or mean asks, I want to be like you!!!

@echos-muses - Echo I loveee youuuu, I love your reblogs and comments, often makes me laugh so hard, love our chats in reblogs on more mature topics too, so good to have here person like you too.

@happinessinthebeing - Your comments and ask makes my heart melt, you're so sweet and caring, love to talk to you and read all you're writing to me, I would hug you if I could!!!!

@oneeyedvisenya - I'm so grateful that I found your fics and then saw that you had reblogged some of my works. Literally it was one of the happiest things that happened to me here because I love your works so much and it meant so much to me! Waiting for your new works!!!!

@theoneeyedprince - Justine, my fellow polish girl, I love you so much and our little talks, I love how we are supportive to each other! This is so great to have here someone from my own country how writes so we'll, I would love some new modern series from you, hihi.

@aemondx - I love your gifs so much and I'm so happy that you liked my HP series! Makes my blush ughhhh!!! So talented!!!!

@notnormalthings-blog - I love you and your reblogs so much, you make me laugh so hard, I just can't, always waiting for your reactions and gifs!!!!

@persephonelovesbooks - I love you so much, you're with me from the earliest times of my writing, always so supportive, ugh, I can't say how much I enjoy interacting with you!

@aemondsmoon - You make me so happy with your reblogs and reactions, you're so sweet and kind, just ughhh, I hope that after my return to Poland I will have a time to read some of your fics!!!!!!!

I would write like that for on and one, but here so honorable mentions of people I just love for they comments, reactions, support. You make my day better guys! I'm sorry if I didn't mention someone, I love all you people, interacting or not!!!

@melsunshine @immyowndefender @bellaisasleep @ammo23 @chainsawsangel @letmeloveyouuuu @hiatuswhore

You don have to reblog or tag anyone, just I want you to let you know that I love you guys! You can share it and reblogs if you want of course, kisses! 💋💋💋

#tag game #tag games #mutuals 💐

[morgana-ren]

I need abdirak in my guts I've replayed the whipping scene so many times 😭😭😭😭😭

Abdirak is so fucking sexy in the most absolutely unhinged-but-respectful way. This man is wide-eyed feral at the thought of whipping you and you even get a bonus if you take your clothes off-- but only if it's something you want. He won't attack you or belittle you if you decide you're not into it, but if you decide you are? Oh man, he gets into it. Like really into it.

We're talking like euphoria levels of ecstasy.

Not even just in a 'religious fervor' kind of way like you'd expect from someone deeply pious. It's clear it's something he's actually super into sexually, and that it's a transcendent experience for him in more way than one.

That man is absolutely into BDSM, but in a super respectful, aftercare-is-mandatory kind of way. All pain is consensual and willingly given. His pain is given to Loviatar freely and he wants to make sure it's the same for you. It's a very personal and important experience and he wants to ensure it's mutual. It's literally a religious experience for him, and it's something that is deeply entwined with who he is. He worships Loviatar of his own free will and gives of his own free will. That's going to be important to him. His faith and his needs and desires sort of mesh into one. He goes absolutely wild, but it's the heights of pleasure he wants to take you to as well.

Giving into him willingly is probably huge. He's probably willing to go very slow if it's something you're new to. It's one of those things that he absolutely is willing to make sure you're comfortable and relaxed and truly into it. Safeword and all. Consent is huge. Trust and respect.

He's going to do some of the most depraved, absolutely wild shit to you but afterwards, he's just extremely gentle and kind and all about ensuring it was a genuine, consensual experience that you also enjoyed. It's something deeply important to him on both a faith and a personal level.

Whipping, cutting, bruising, choking, like I am sure nothing is off limits unless it is to you. He strikes me as an experimental sort, especially since he has a book on the shelf talking about 'new methods' he is excited to try. Meshing pain with pleasure is his business. Get that man into the bedroom and it's one of those experiences you never forget.

I don't know, man, something tells me he's absolutely god-tier in the sack. Like he just knows how to walk a razor's edge of pleasure and pain in a way that is professional but also utterly depraved and completely unhinged. Like you're worried he's losing himself and it's so hot but if at any point things get too much, he can pull back and ramp the pleasure back up.

Idk I got thoughts on that man. He just knows things, I know it.

#morgana and friends #abdirak #yes I know you get a bonus because it's more painful without clothes on and it's 'ardent apostle' #but nah I'ma believe it anyway

[roguetelepaths]

byron + 1, 2, 5, 24,

Oh fuck yeah I was hoping someone would do this. This is going to be a massive wall of text and I'm sorry but also I'm really not. You have unleashed the infodump dragon and it's not leaving until it's run off some of its zoomies.

Why do you like or dislike this character?

You know a fun fact about me is that I was on Team Byron Disliker when I first started Season 5 just due to what I'd heard through pop culture osmosis. I even made a post to that effect after watching a couple of his episodes (deleted now because I was sick of seeing it in my notes) that got some circulation in the fandom. But the further I got into that arc and the more I thought about him, the less I saw what I expected to see when I started. Instead I saw someone who, though flawed, spent most of the time he was on screen trying to be gentle and compassionate and trying to protect his people in a situation that was hell bent on making it as hard as possible for him to do those things.

I do think he has a manipulative streak, and I do think he's the type to occasionally do very hurtful things because he believes he's doing so for the right reasons (see for example that fucking "doesn't it feel nice to be asked" scene between him and Lyta in The Paragon of Animals, even as a Lyta/Byron shipper that makes me SO ANGRY because that point could be made in LITERALLY any other way that didn't involve demeaning her and shouting at her, I get that you're pissed off at the people who did that to her but taking it out on her isn't gonna help anyone so stop) but those flaws when combined with his genuine good intentions and abundance of care are fascinating.

A big part of why I think people dislike him as a character is because those flaws are presented as an immutable Fact Of Who He Is, which, yeah, I can see why someone would find that insufferable, but I like writing character growth and he deserves some.

Tl;dr, I like him because he's complicated. I dislike the way canon never seemed to want to grapple with those complications.

Favorite canon thing about this character?

That scene with the one guy in Downbelow. You know the one. Letting someone punch you repeatedly because you want to teach them a lesson about how finding a target to beat up on isn't actually going to solve their problems is... genuinely fucking baller and I wish we'd gotten to see more of that side of him.

Also that thing with Lyta in Strange Relations that's basically a mutual "I'm not overextending myself YOU'RE overextending yourself! Please slow down and rest 🥺" is probably what made me ship them as hard as I do. Dipping out of canon and into my fic for a second, but that interaction is so different from their first interaction that I kind of have to wonder if someone talked to him about the way he treated her. (I may have written a missing scene about that but it needs some fine tuning before I feel good about posting it.)

What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

oh my god!!! so many. SO MANY. But uhhhh I can narrow it down to like four?

Runaway by The National as a general theme song

I, Carrion (Icarian) by Hozier as a soft and sad song for him and Lyta

The Deserter's Song by Radical Face as a backstory reveal song

New World Coming (any version but I like the one by Nina Simone best because. Come on. It's Nina fucking Simone how can you top that) because I'm almost certain it was one of the songs JMS pulled from when he was writing That Song For That Scene.

What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

I've been saying this from the very beginning— The Signless from Homestuck. (Yes, I'm a Homestuck enjoyer. Sorry.) I just love my pacifist resistance leaders with feral partners and tragic endings okay.

#babylon 5 #byronposting #<- new tag for stuff that's not about my fix-it au

[mint-yooxgi]

wow...wow this chapter...

can we talk about the paintings? i wanna talk about the paintings. i love the exchange of emotional intimacy, with yunho sharing this part of himself, and mc letting herself open up to him in turn just ugh we love to see it. the art room itself just seems like such a magical place from the way you described it, and i’m weak af for artistic imagery so this was a joy to read. the moment with the radiant painting tho with the portrait of mc, where everything clicked and she was like “this is how you see me?” was just so beautiful. i love how it wasn’t just this one moment and then suddenly all the mc’s insecurities are fixed. no here was buildup to this, and the payoff was immaculate. it’s really nice bc i can picture this like romanticized image he painted, but it’s still true to the mc’s visage like it’s clearly her, just with the elevated romanticism of someone who’s in love with her and things she’s just that beautiful all the time. made me all warm and fuzzy inside. 

i really love how in the smut chapters, you have moments of emotional intimacy as a prelude to them being physically intimate. always love to see that. the pure comfort and trust that’s exchanged whenever the characters are intimate with each other is just delightful. also how did you manage to make bloodplay so romantic? like how did you do that? “paint me in you” AHH THAT LINE MADE MY HEART SOAR OMG. the whole scene was just so immaculately described like not only could i see what was happening, i could feel it, both physically and emotionally. and i say this all the time but the pacing was just perfect! it has the same immersive properties as your dream and fantasy sequences and is just such a joy to read and re-read to catch all the little intricacies. it took everything in me not to squeal at the sweet words they exchange like omg this is incredible.

and of course the reciprocity. i already knew you would emphasize the mutual feelings but wow this was great to see. seeing the mc take just much time and care for him as he did for her is always the best fucking thing to see. seeing her use the same soft touches and gentle words of praise just ugh yes douse him in affection he deserves it! the intimacy of having hem both intwined like this, painting each other with each other, is such a creative way to display their mutual love. 

i cannot lie tho i did scream out loud when he drew her blood and it didn’t hurt her, and he reminded her that he’d never hurt her even in this the SCREAM I SCROME. i just know my dog can’t stand me 😅 also the part that had me wanting to munch bricks, where he’s emphatically expressing his desire to please her, now that i have the full context i wanna munch cinderblocks

and the face sitting...oh wow the face sitting. had to read that in stages it was so fucking hot. first of all the fact that he’s so giving is already making me swoon, but then being so adamant on hearing the moans and reactions i live for shit like that. and then the feralness that seeps through the sweetness made things so intense and so fucking hot. i love he way you merge the two too, the carnal and the caring, and it manifests itself in these poetic professions of love and lust. wanting to get drunk on the sweet nectar of arousal, wanting to take in the whole experience, like yes! that’s the best kind of lover right there! and the fact that all that was done through their mind link, and with their minds caressing as well as their bodies? that was a super unique angle and made my heart fucking flutter. the bloom for me line had me down for the fucking count i had to pause right there like...wow just fucking wow! the ebbs and flows of eroticism in this were great to read to. you can really see the way the erotic energy peaks and valleys over time as they just enjoy each other which was excellent. you can see that same flow of energy through the riding part too which just made it so engaging to read.

damn i wrote a whole essay 😅. anyway long story short this was super fucking hot and super fucking romantic and i can’t wait for more! my mind has been completely blown

Ellie. Omg, Ellie, you’re literally going to make me cry, I appreciate this message so much and all of your observations omg 🥺

First of all, yes!!!! Thank you so much!! I really tried to emphasize the intimacy and importance of Yunho sharing his art with the OC, so I'm glad it came across well! It’s a big step for him and for the emotional vulnerability because as we all know, the last time he shared his art, it didn’t bode too well for him. I really wanted to capture that importance, and I'm so glad it came across! And yes!!! build up is so important, especially with the portrait of the OC, I really wanted to slowly lean into it, especially since it would reflect his nerves and the meaning of showing the art to the OC, so I’m so glad it was paced well!!

I’m also so glad the emotions came across well!! I always try to make sex a little more than just two people fucking each other in my stories, because to me, the deeper connections between them makes it all the more hotter. There’s so much more to emphasize I think when you have those emotional connections to play around with, because then everything just becomes that much more between two people. Perhaps that’s just me romanticizing love making, but I enjoy it, so I’m so happy others do as well! Don’t even get me started on the lines I had them reciting to each other omg, they were definitely some of my favourite, and long since overdue. I mentioned before how I've had this scene planned since the very beginning, and that also includes the lines they say to each other! I’m so happy you enjoyed the build up and the aspect of the blood play in the scene. I know I enjoyed writing it!

“If it’s not mutual, I don’t want it” is definitely something I live by, and is definitely reflected in the Oc considering their own thoughts on the matter lol, so I'm glad I can emphasize that!! Thank you so much!

Noooooo, not the cinderblocks!!!! Lmaooo, I'm so glad you enjoyed that part!! I very much enjoyed writing it. I really want to emphasize each of their desires in their words, and all of them are smooth mfs and the like, so I'm glad it’s all coming across and working out!

Oh yeah, I wrote that one line after he pulls the OC’s hand away and I had to cool off for a few minutes cause WOW, boy is feral in the best ways (at least, in my opinion lol), I enjoyed writing that scene wayyyy too much if you couldn’t tell, and I always wanted to incorporate his mental powers into his smut, and I'm so happy with how it turned out. Originally, I was going to have him project his vision - what he saw when looking up at her - into the OC’s mind while eating her out right before she came, and that would be the final push to send her over the edge, but I thought I'd save that for a later part. I’m really happy with how everything turned out, and I'm so glad you enjoyed it, too!!

And ehehehe I was wondering if you would comment on the ‘bloom for me’ line and I'm so glad you did!!! I contemplated not putting it in, honestly, but I had always thought about it since, you know, he calls the OC petal and everything. I’m so glad I did because it really pays off, imo!

Thank you so so so so so much for this long ask and all of your feedback, you honestly don’t know how happy it’s made me, and how much I appreciate it!!! I love getting to know what you think, and all the little details that you can pick up or that you enjoy from my writing. I appreciate it so much!! I really appreciate you. Thank you for reading, and I cannot wait for you to see what else I have planned!!

#ask #literally the sweetest #omg #thank you so much #feedback is always appreciated #!!! #mutuals #the best #ahhhh #THIS IS SO SWEET

[dawndelion-winery]

Sparks Fly

It's a dream come true to meet your favourite idol, or is it?

Idol au! Ft. Scaramouche, Kaeya, Dainsleif, Albedo

Scaramouche:

A master at the whole "bad boy" persona

Pretty privilege at its finest - no one else could possibly get away with being that much of an ass and that in itself was a feat

You had hoped he was nicer behind the scenes

Hopes: dashed, heart: broken - he was just as much of a jerk off camera

Intimidating eyes narrowed at you as you approached him with a marker and his latest album - your intentions were obvious enough - and he'd simply scoffed and turned back to his coffee

Which was ironically one of the sweetest beverages you'd seen in your life (was there even any coffee in all that milk?)

Just as you were about to turn away, he reached out for your marker and quickly scribbled on the album, barely sparing it a glance

"Go on, thank me and revel in my glory to your heart's content, peasant."

You wanted to scowl at his cockiness, but at the sight of his smirk, the most you could manage was a reluctantly awestruck expression

At which he'd "heh"ed and tapped your cheek before walking away

Kaeya:

Known for flirting with his fans, you weren't expecting him to fluster so easily at your praise

He coped fairly enough the first few compliments

But beyond that?

Boy was he a mess, his ears turning redder and redder as he struggled to maintain your gaze, refusing to look away out of courtesy

He had nowhere to turn to that didn't have someone teasing him because even his manager, Rosaria, joined in the fun

That's not to say he hates it, he quite likes being fawned over - he just had no idea how to react to it all

It doesn't help that his fans (you included) went feral over your cute idol being all flustered

Probably hides behind you if he gets overwhelmed since you look guilty about starting it

Will readily drape an arm around you for a picture if you ask, though

But not without a bashful, slight hesitance

"You make quite the charming bodyguard, don't you? I suppose I can hope to see you at future events?"

Bids you farewell with a kiss to the back of your hand

Dainsleif:

Not exactly what you'd call idol material

A little too aloof and blunt by nature, his production company was hesitant to debut him but did so anyway since he was pretty popular for a trainee

Has a very strict code of conduct for himself, and makes sure to meet a certain degree of chivalry

It's no wonder you found yourself drawn to him; he who was so much like a regal knight sworn to duty, keeping distance for the sake of professionalism

And his bluntness led to a fair share of humorous moments as well, which only served to add to his charm

You weren't quite prepared for how critical he could be, even of his own fans

"I am too understand that your knowledge of me is supposed to be flattering, but I can't help but wonder if you've nothing of greater interest to spend your time on..."

Anyone could see your smile drop

And even he had the sense to comfort you in some way, even if he was the offending party

"What I mean to say is that normally you wouldn't take such care to note these details about people who aren't in immediate proximity to your life- It'd make a lot more sense if the extent of trivia about each other was mutual-"

And that, comrade, is how you tricked your beloved idol into a coffee date - by asking if he was going to get to know you as well as you knew him

Who would've thought that the aloof idol, as seemingly flawless and untouchable as he was, was also incredibly petty

Enough so that he'd adamantly insist on proving himself right

*cue Dainsleif realising that as a fan, you have some sort of image of him and wanting to impress you so he spends a day preparing beforehand*

Albedo:

If Scara's the bad boy, he's the devil

In all of his collaborations with Kaeya, they've often stuck to the roles people expect of them - Kaeya being the flirt and Albedo being the charming and gentle, but romantically inexperienced prince

Little did they know how reversed their roles were in reality

Albedo is the worst sort of flirt in an idol, with angelic eyes and the devil's smile, it was only too easy for him to charm his fans and have them wrapped around his finger

He knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you when he responds to your gift

"That's lovely, darling."

It's perfectly in character for his persona, and yet so fitting in its duality that it shows the exact sort of person he is

It's a known fact that he's perceptive, but even a dedicated fan like yourself can't pick up on how quickly he notes your body language

It's exactly this perceptiveness that makes him such a charmer on stage, what with his knack for reading what the people want

"Oh? It seems like there's two people in me? Hm, that does sound like quite the concept. I owe you thanks for that idea, my dear. How's a complimentary pass to the performance you've inspired sound?"

There was nothing more magical than his on stage costume change, seemingly transforming one outfit into a completely different one

He stole everyone's breathe when his voice dropped an octave

"Sorry to hijack the show, everyone. But it's time for the second subject to take the stage."

Taglist[send an ask to be added]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @serenenation @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @howlantic @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @stunningstratagem @sadlonelybagel

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #Scaramouche #kaeya #dainsleif #albedo #scara #scaramouche x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #dainsleif x reader #scara x reader #genshin scara #genshin scaramouche #genshin kaeya #genshin dainsleif #genshin albedo #winery specials

[kirascottage]

maybe studying with lily in the library but youbget bored and start teasing her? or marlene wanting to give reader hickeys to remind you who you belong to 😵‍💫

a painters masterpiece

marlene mckinnon x gender neutral. reader

summary: marlene gives you hickeys.

word count: 0.8k

warnings: so short i’m so sorry, kissing, jealousy, marking/hickeys, possessive undertones

It was nearly humorous and undoubtedly would’ve given Sirius a good laugh. The way Marlene had blubbered every logical possibility to a certain classmate carefully keeping his (As Marlene properly described it) “Feral” eyes on you.

But one foolish thing she couldn’t grasp was that you truly expressed no conscious intent on playing this innocent boy along in his delusional fantasy.

“Oh, C’mon. It’s so obvious that he likes you!” Marlene’s usual modulated tone pulled into a shrill whine, a pause in her legs causing you to remain stoic beside her as she justly complained about the certain Ravenclaw for the past twenty minutes.

“Marls, he’s like two years younger than us. It’s just an adolescent crush.” You promptly began to bargain with her as she droned on about the boy.

“Well, I have to do something!” She exclaimed dramatically whilst flailing her arms around. After her melodramatic inquisition, she had begun marching triumphantly down the corridor to Transfiguration whilst tugging your hand firmly by her side.

She was absolutely hysterical.

Well, that was the main thought till Michael Schneider, said Ravenclaw, had strutted up to you with every confident bone in his body after classes and ultimately made a pass at you for a date to The Three Broomsticks. What you had invariably failed to know was the striking brunette with her books nervously clutched to her chest carefully surveying the scene. Sneaky.

At your denial he had sighed in defeat, politely bidding you a farewell before you were off to the Gryffindor tower in a hunt where she had scurried off to. You impatiently muttered the unique password with a blip of anticipation zooming through your mind, the blip recurring as the hoarse taps of your feet against the aging stairs became more prominent in a quick endeavor to find your girlfriend.

Your knuckles collided against the mahogany door twice to establish your presence known, noticing the door-nob of the door turn hastily, your brows scrunched as she was heaving and pacing with her legs moving left to right as if she was racing someone on the other side of the door.

“Why do boys always make passes at you!”

Her voice rathers a statement and a question, resuming her pacing till you sat on her bed with a chuckle breaking Marlene out of her trance. “Does absolutely nobody know you have a girlfriend for Merlin's sake?” You muffled another snort with the back of your hand as she continued.

“What?” She looked like a madwoman, her fingers digging into her temples and her chest heaving from practically running around the room.

“Marlene,” You spoke suddenly, a softness built in your gentle tone; removing yourself from the bed you slowly walked over to her, both of your hands conjoining with her own. “I don’t have interest in anyone but you; so don’t let that pretty little mind of yours drift off to overthinking land, alright?”

She breathed fervently while her eyes moved erratically over your unalloyed features, “Just shut up and kiss me.” Her urgent demand inevitably coming to action at the fervid kiss strategically placed against your lips.

The bruising kiss escalated tremendously at the impact of your spine melding with her bed with her eager hands capturing your face amid the impassioned kiss.

Her nimble fingers eagerly carded through your locks, as the swell of her tongue crept into the opening of your distended lips.

The kiss was messy, sloppy even but far from being amateurish, the considerable skill of her tongue plunging into your mouth with such desperation of proclaiming you as hers; far from possession (For the moment) but a reminder of her presence and admiration for you in her life.

The fervent kiss suddenly broke, and her lubricated lips from your tongue, now, suctioning at your jugular with a yearning desire of your commendation.

“Marlene,” Your voice hushed into a faint whisper. Her vocal cords collided together and created a small Mhm in mutual acknowledgment against your neck. “May I—“ Your sentence cut short at your heightened breath, “—Ask what you’re doing.” Your words stumbled out into a stutter.

“Showing everyone you’re mine.” Her voice deteriorated into a tantalizing whisper; her crimson lips naturally progressed to your pulse point lifting a muffled whimper larynx. The blossoming bruises painted across your collarbones and pinpointing at the tender skin of your jugular once again.

Her words were almost sardonic, a newfound possessive nature in her tone. Her head tilted as it was promptly removed from the crevice of your neck, a bordering gasp reluctantly releasing from your lips as her fingers dragged faintly against the canvas of your flesh painted in emerging contusions.

“What are you doing now?” Your words were spaced out between ragged breaths, asking once again as her lips twitched up-words; “Admiring my masterpiece.”

taglist: @shadesofvelma @anything-forourmoony @sprucewoodlover

#marlene mckinnon fanfiction #marlene mckinnon x reader #marlene mckinnon #marlene mckinnon x y/n #marlene mckinnon fluff #marauders fic #marauders fluff #marauders era fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

ummm hi yes 👉👈 could I get some BESA Fiona x Thunder with mutual pining because they're both Herd Patrons and thus can't be together?💕 thanks~💖

a/n: this was requested in December 2020, and I’m only just now doing it 😭💔 I feel like I have a bunch of inspo to write and then life burns me out, always at the worst times 😭😭😭😭 and I am SO SORRY but I hope this makes the wait worth it! 💕 @hostilepopcorn

word count: 972

pairing: fiona x thunder

Forbidden

A stallion, darker than the coming night, and a mare, more fiery than the sun dwindling on the horizon, make their way down the beach, hoof prints highlighted by the rising moon. Their bodies sway like boats on an ocean, and their glossy coats shine like ripples on the water. Poetic. And, unbeknownst to all, tragic.

Fiona and Thunder have been the best of friends since they were foals, but the two of them have long kept a secret - one of that friendship once having been something more.

Fiona exhales, nickering at Thunder. She plucks a stray burr out of his mane with her teeth as she says, “Our daughter is getting married, Thunder.”

He nods, looking at her expectantly with one of his gentle eyes, waiting for her to say more - because she always says more.

She says, “I just wish she could have her father walk her down the aisle.” Her soft brown eyes for once don’t look piercing, tears sitting on their rims, and they almost melt Thunder’s icy heart. The effect she has on him is the exact reason he’s spent years hardening it. She’s his only weakness, and if anyone knew - it takes everything in him not to shudder at the thought.

“You know why we can’t.” Thunder says softly, but even when he’s quiet his words are weighty. The two of them share the same vision - scenes of the aftermath of Feral’s attack on Rolandsgaard Castle, their friends’ bodies scattered on the ground, blood splattered everywhere. Some of the fiercest warriors in North of North, literally torn apart. Red. Red. The walls are red. The orchids, planted by Sigga herself, are drowning in red. Valeryk’s pale coat, shredded and red. Airistos, nothing but stained feathers. Red-stained feathers. Islandar, body slumped in a fountain, only fronds of their tail visible. In a fountain of nothing but red-

“Thunder!” Fiona whinnies, pulling him out of it. He shakes his head, black mane of curls waving back and forth with him. They all have hidden battle scars. His just so happen to be flashbacks. “I’m sorry. I just can’t put you at risk. Not when they died because they were in love.”

“They died for their love. Why can’t we live for ours?” Fiona says with a stamp of her hoof, tendrils of flame flowing out from under her. “I’m a fair judge of what I’m willing to put myself at risk for. Why can’t we be a family?”

“Because!” Thunder neighs, his voice booming like a clap of thunder, lightning cracking in the sky. “What happens when I lose you?” A tear slips from his eye, the first tear he’s shed since being chosen as a Patron. “I already lost you once, and my daughter with you. If we’d never been made Patrons, we could have had a family. But now, after all this time? We could be separated like Sigga and Prince Archer, or if our love is even allowed by the Alfather, you could still be killed by Ivenna, or Feral, or some other enemy of North of North. If you lose me, you at least have a daughter to mourn with. If I lose you I can’t even suffer together with my daughter. If I sound selfish, it’s because I am.”

“Where is your courage, Thunder?” Fiona pleads, the pain on her face clear. “I’m supposed to be a hero, and my own daughter sees me as a villain, because I can’t tell her anything about her father. She thinks I just won’t. If the choice were mine, she would know everything about him. But it’s not. It’s why I spend my life trying to save others, and even then, I’m worried that it will never make up for failing my daughter on the most basic level. Nothing I can ever do, no heroic deed, will ever add up to the pain I cause her every day, keeping your secret.”

“Courage can’t exist without fear, Fiona. The very reason I have courage, is because I’m so scared, every day. I love you, the mare who would have been my wife, had things gone my way. I love our daughter, even if I can never touch her. I love…” He pauses to nuzzle Fiona, and she whickers in response. “I love the way I see myself in her, and I love that I see you in her, but most of all, I love that she is her own being. My courage means not putting either of you in any more danger than I have to. It means spending my days wanting for something I know I can never really have. It means fighting with my entire life to protect North of North, and the two of you with it. It means, if it has to, that I might one day lay down my life for this world, or just for the two of you.” He steps away, walking back toward Rolandsgaard. Fiona tilts her head, confused as to why he’s leaving. “It means focusing on my duty, even if my heart is with you and our foal. You must understand, if I knew how everything would turn out, I would think the same way as you do. But the reality is I don’t know what will happen, and if there’s even a fraction of a chance that harm of any kind could come to either of you, then I can’t do it.”

“We could do it together!” Fiona calls after Thunder when he turns around, and he turns his head to look at her with one eye, the usual coldness having returned to his gaze.

“No, we can’t.” Thunder leaves Fiona alone on the beach, and he’s glad when she doesn’t follow him or argue anymore… because he knows he would’ve given in if she did.

#outsider writes #besa #fiona #thunder #fiona x thunder #thunder x fiona #besa fiona #besa thunder #bella sara #free requests #besa fanfiction #thiona #idk if they have a ship name but thiona sounds rly good so yakno #angst #forbidden love

[shih-coulda-had-it]

193 for... maybe nanahiko? Really just do whatever ship you feel like :D

193. "Are you crazy? The kid is upstairs!" | VestigesTorino [Yes. OT8. The orgies are fantastic, and Torino is Holder bait, 8th and 9th exempt.] | WC: 2,222 of an OFA!VampireCoven!AU except op has taken liberties with worldbuilding.

TW: Blood-drinking. Outrageous flirting. Mildly spicy!

//

“Vampires,” Sorahiko echoes blankly.

He looks from left to right, trying to spot the differences between himself and the six adult men and one adult woman sitting at this round table. Most atypical appearances can be attributed to the strange and wondrous natures of Quirks, so Sorahiko could excuse the fourteen red eyes (every iris the identical shade) as a matter of Quirk heritage. However, none of the Shigarakis resemble the other.

They still might be pulling his leg.

The leader of the household (presumably) leans his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers. “Torino-san,” he says in a gentle voice, “we greatly appreciate your timely rescue of our youngest. And believe me when I say I would have preferred you stay ignorant of my coven’s true nature.”

“But the boy wants to be a professional hero,” one of the men interrupts. His arms are crossed, and his hair sticks up in rakish angles. An X-shaped scar has been carved over the bridge of his nose, just missing the eyes.

He sounds dismissive of the kid’s dream.

Fair. When Sorahiko had stepped onto the moonlit scene, the kid was frantically scrabbling at a thick-skinned villain’s hand, trying to save his bag from being rummaged. The villain had planted a knee in the kid’s stomach in an attempt to menace him into silence.

Sorahiko pounced on the villain, called in the location to pick up the too-heavy bastard, and escorted the boy home. He fielded questions about heroics and U.A. High for half an hour before they finally reached the Shigaraki compound.

And now he is here, trapped in a gigantic dining room, being told about vampires.

“We agreed to let him try,” says the singular woman sharply.

“If you three hadn’t filled his head about saving the world,” a man with a spiky ponytail shoots back, “then we wouldn’t have this problem. And you too, Yoichi.”

“Nevertheless,” the leader says. His red eyes gleam in the low light, and Sorahiko feels his skin prickling at the attention.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“Ah, who hasn’t heard of the toughest teacher of U.A.?” another man asks, sly and teasing. His voice is soft like the leader’s, but perceptibly younger. His coloring is similar to the woman’s, but he’s lean where she’s muscular. “Yoichi believes we should give you a head’s up. Toshinori is a good child, but even he will slip from time to time, and that will draw undue attention to himself.”

Sorahiko considers these seven faces. Slowly, he says, “You think he’ll be accepted into U.A.”

“Three of us are active pro-heroes, and we’ve been training him when we can,” the woman informs him. “I’d say he’s got a headstart compared to all of your first years.”

“My students have always been terrible. That’s what schooling is for.”

She flashes a smile at him, toothy and amused; his throat works through a sudden dry spell. Belatedly, Sorahiko realizes that every adult in this kitchen is eyeing him with intense interest. Even the ones that haven’t spoken yet.

Yoichi speaks again. “He’s smart, and he’ll be strong. U.A. will accept him. I ask you for your discretion and help, Gran Torino.”

He could refuse, but Sorahiko assumes they’ll simply kill him. Being blackmailed is a low possibility; Sorahiko doesn’t have much to be blackmailed about. And pro-heroes disappear all the time. No one really knows why. Principal Shi might demand an investigation on Gran Torino’s behalf (and possibly at the behest of Recovery Girl, who grudgingly acknowledges Torino’s efforts to raise the survival rate of U.A.’s graduates), but otherwise…

Still. Vampires. Another subset of humanity, among the Quirked and Quirkless. It’s weird enough to be true.

“Is this a verbal agreement?” Sorahiko asks.

A bark of laughter from the square-jawed man in the leather jacket, who leans forward and grins like a shark at Sorahiko. The light glints off the yellow lenses of his goggles, and the play of light and shadow highlights the muscle definition of the man’s shirtless chest. In a rich, low voice, he says, “We’ve got something better. A contract.”

“Using what?” Sorahiko bites back. “Paper and ink?”

“Skin and teeth, teach’.”

“Daigoro’s correct,” says Yoichi mildly, snatching Sorahiko’s attention away. “Torino-san, allow me to introduce my coven. I am Shigaraki Yoichi, second of my line. In the order of which my coven grew: Kenzo, Sanjuro, Hikage, Daigoro, En, Nana, and you’ve met our Toshinori.” As he speaks, he points to each person in turn.

He wonders when the kid got folded into this group. The kid’s affection for his home had been sincere, and he greeted the adults (well, Hikage had only come out of the forested grounds at Daigoro’s call) with merry cheer.

Is Toshinori even a vampire? U.A. conducts its business in the daytime.

Sorahiko nods in acknowledgement and doesn’t offer his full name in return. Instead, he says, “If I accept this contract, will you tell me whatever I want to know? About anything I ask?”

“Even vampires aren’t omniscient,” Yoichi answers.

Rolling his eyes, Sorahiko clarifies, “If the kid’s going to develop vampirism over the course of high school, then I need to know things. Like whether or not he’ll go feral over spilled blood. Or if sunlight’s going to be an issue.”

Yoichi’s smile is kind, and surprisingly not patronizing. “What we can tell, we will. The contract will have a mutual hold on us all.”

“What could break it?”

“A different coven, not that you should seek one out,” says Nana. “Trust us, we’re as nice as you get in the supernatural world.”

Sorahiko does not have many options. He hates the idea of agreeing to this without a safety net or a contingency plan. How can this woman ask him to trust them immediately? He’d have to be a gullible idiot, or a fool in lust, or...

He exhales. Sighing in resignation, Sorahiko tips his head to Yoichi and says, wry, “I accept the contract. Don’t kill me if your kid comes crying home about how mean I am.”

Yoichi shrugs, casual as anything. “Toshinori’s quite brave for his age, and stubborn, too. You’ll have your hands full training him.” He then stands from his chair; in measured, unhesitating steps, Yoichi approaches where Sorahiko sits at the opposite side of the round table. What he orders, Sorahiko complies with. “Take your cape off, Torino-san. Your gloves as well.”

“You may have to unzip the top half of your suit,” advises Hikage. “You won’t want the signatures to overlap.”

“Signatures,” Sorahiko repeats, pausing.

One glove’s already off. The flight suit’s sleeves extend up to his wrists, and they don’t have a lot of give. Similarly, the collar is skin-tight and provides ample coverage.

Daigoro playfully snaps his teeth at Sorahiko, once, twice. He says, “Paper and ink, skin and teeth. You forget already?”

The man barely flinches at the snarl directed his way. Seven pairs of eyes are honing in on the exposed flesh; Sorahiko shoves his self-conscious thoughts away. He focuses on the sheer outrage of being asked to strip by strangers, hissing, “Are you crazy? The kid is upstairs!”

“I’ll make sure he stays in his room,” Nana volunteers. She winks at Sorahiko. “We’ll be quick, Torino-san. You just have to keep quiet.”

“You—!”

She slips from her chair and darts off, exiting the dining room and ascending the stairs, floating off the floor. Sorahiko glares after her but snaps to attention as Yoichi stops by his chair, hip resting against the table, red eyes expectant.

Grudgingly, Sorahiko works off the second glove. As he does, Yoichi continues to lecture.

“The signatures can be made in two ways. A lighter bite will result in less pain, but will fade sooner. And I’d like for this arrangement to stand for several years, Torino-san. A lighter bite necessitates more renewals. Possibly, seven bites every two weeks.”

“And a stronger bite?”

“Seven every month.”

He scowls at the thought. The only silver lining he can see is that his suit will cover the marks, which will save him from his colleagues’ gossiping tongues. “Monthly, then. Are you drinking my blood? I don’t think I’ve got enough to cover seven appetites.”

Yoichi offers him a gentle smile. “A mouthful will suffice.”

Sorahiko works his jaw, and then he reaches backwards for the hidden zipper. It’s incongruously loud in the dining room; Sorahiko feels his face burning as he hurriedly rips his arms free of the sausage casing sleeves, letting the slackening front of the suit crumple to his lap. He hears an appreciative whistle.

“Daigoro, he can give you a run for your money,” Sanjuro jokes.

“He’s softer,” Daigoro deems, and Sorahiko bristles. “Must be the suit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he snaps. “And proper hydration, asshole.”

“I’m not complaining!”

“At ease,” says Yoichi, calm, and that’s when Nana makes her reappearance. She swings back into the dining room, expression confident and content, until she spies Sorahiko’s half-naked appearance.

“Are we going in order?” she questions Yoichi, even as her eyes are trained on Sorahiko’s.

“That’s how it works, Nana,” Kenzo answers for their leader. “How’s Toshinori?”

“Watching his martial arts dramas. We’re good for like, fifty minutes.”

“You said you’ll be quick,” Sorahiko rasps, and his hands are clenching into fists, anticipatory and anxious. This is all so incredibly weird. “You all need more than five minutes to bite me?”

Yoichi laughs. It’s a bright sound, attractive and human and not at all like something that should be coming out of a self-proclaimed bloodsucker. When Yoichi moves, pushing off the table, Sorahiko nervelessly allows himself to be pinned to the back of his chair. One hand cards through his hair and lightly tugs; the other hand settles at his shoulder and presses it down.

His throat is exposed. Though Yoichi bends close, Sorahiko knows it isn’t the jugular he’s aiming for.

“Torino-san will need a moment to recuperate,” Yoichi whispers, and Sorahiko shivers, swallows past the apprehension, and spends half a second regretting his decision to let this happen. Yoichi adds, “We will not harm you, and you will not harm us. Your help, in exchange for ours. Let it be so.”

Teeth sink into the join of Sorahiko’s neck and shoulder, sharp and surprisingly hot. Sorahiko chokes out a garbled sound and jerks in his seat, until Yoichi’s bite goes deeper, deeper, and then Sorahiko gasps. Adrenaline bursts to life in his system; his Quirk sputters a reflexive Jet through his boots, but Yoichi’s slender frame hides an unseen strength.

He holds Sorahiko down.

He draws blood from the wound. Sorahiko barely feels the drain, fixated he is on the pressure exerted against him. Every single one of them is going to have the capacity to do this. If Yoichi, whose frame is most similar to En’s, can keep Sorahiko from bolting—Sorahiko arches his back, an involuntary moan escaping him.

It feels good. It feels really, really good.

Yoichi hums against his skin, pleased as punch, and his teeth retract. Sorahiko feels the tongue lap over the mark, heavy with spit. As Yoichi rears back, Yoichi rolls his neck lazily, licking his lips like a cat full from its meal.

“The saliva is a coagulant,” he explains idly, watching Sorahiko slump back against the chair, lungs still stuttering. A faint sweat has broken across his forehead, and Sorahiko distantly suspects that he’s going to need all the time he can get before the kid grows bored of his dramas.

“Oh, he already looks wrecked,” En observes. His awed tone elicits a laugh and encouraging clap to his shoulder from Daigoro, the latter of which requires En to brace against.

“You think he’ll last seven bites?”

“To be fair,” Hikage says, “that is a common erogenous zone. We’ll focus on less stimulating areas.”

Sorahiko, somewhat nettled at the implication that he won’t last (and what the hell does that mean? That he’ll back out? Start begging for mercy?) all seven signatures, musters his strength and shoves himself upright. He scoffs exaggeratedly, masking a shaky exhale with it. He challenges the coven, “Do your fucking worst.”

Yoichi blinks. Behind him, Kenzo is leaving his seat and stalking towards Sorahiko’s, red eyes gleaming. Before Kenzo can dive at Sorahiko and probably tear an artery out, Yoichi holds him back with one placating hand.

“Do not,” Yoichi warns. “We’re not trying to induce a thrall, do you all hear me?”

“Yoichi,” says Sanjuro, “if the man gets off, he gets off.”

A sigh leaves Yoichi. “Be that as it may. Please try not to leave him resentful for the months ahead.” He pats Kenzo’s collarbone; Kenzo catches the thin-boned hand and raises it to his lips.

“Understood, Yoichi,” Kenzo murmurs into the knuckles. He lets go, and Yoichi moves aside, now more fond than exasperated. A safety net, maybe.

In any case, Sorahiko gazes up at number two, who studies him back.

“The shoulder?” suggests Sorahiko, half-heartedly offering the right one up to sacrifice.

Kenzo inclines his head. “Just above the bicep will work,” and he goes on to prove his point, keeping Sorahiko locked in position, unable to do anything but wriggle and fail to contain strangled moans.

This is going to be a long hour.

#bnha #vestigestorino #torino sorahiko #gran torino #shigaraki yoichi #second ofa user #third ofa user #shinomori hikage #banjo daigoro #sixth ofa user #shimura nana #shih.txt #asks #anon #vampire ofa coven au #i have not figured out the lore yet #but afo should be in here #he's thee progenitor after all

[artisanhuman]

I would LOVE to hear more about It’s In The Little Things (G) and Untitled (E).

(There are two wolves inside of me and one of them is horny)

Aha! Your wolves are definitely yin and yang because these two fics are such opposites.  

It’s In the Little Things is giving us very domestic/fluffy moments

Have you ever had a moment with a love interest/partner/friend where they do something that is just so…them? You ever look at that person and think “I did this to myself...I really love this absolute nutjob and I won’t apologise for it”? Well, Kira goes through that all the time. It’s never an expensive date, or 100 red roses at her doorstep one morning that makes her happiest with Dax, it’s those times when Jadzia monologues on why she’d still date Kira if she turned into a spider, habitually massages Kira’s feet as soon as she sits down, and then takes 20 minutes to eat a bag of gummy bears limb by limb.

Suddenly, Jadzia brought the green one to her teeth and bit the head of the creature clean off, shaking its red partner in her other hand while making a small scream-like noise. 

Kira snorted out a laugh, forgetting that Jadzia was completely unaware of her audience in real life, and broke Jadzia out of the scene with a wide-eyed and embarrassed stare. Kira clapped her hand over her mouth to restrain the laughter, but what was the use? It still cackled out behind her fingers as tears pricked her eyes. 

“Are you laughing at me?” Jadzia whined, abandoning her scene and eating the decapitated body of the animal. 

“No! I’m not laughing. There’s nothing to laugh at.” She tried to pacify her but her words were directly contradicting the barks of laughter ripping from her chest. “Did you just eat the head and make that one scream?” She panted as she wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. Jadzia gave a shy smile and shrugged. Of course, she was embarrassed, and Kira didn’t mean to make her feel ashamed, but she’d be lying if she said this wasn’t the happiest she’d felt all day. 

“It’s—it's not even funny. Oh my god, I swear I’m not laughing at you, I just didn’t expect that!”

Now, Untitled....whew chile. Untitled is your classic first time smutfic, but with a decent storyline to set the mood. Kira and Jadzia have been dating, but as much as Jadzia wants to make their relationship physical, Kira’s had some reservations because of her need to be in control at all times (stemming from her trust issues). So she puts on her big girl panties and tells Jadzia that Bajoran is on the menu tonight, so don’t be late. Letting go in the moment isn’t as easy as she thought, but having a partner who cares goes a long way.  Here’s a little snippet for your horny wolf  :D (I hope Tumblr doesn’t flag or something for being inappropriate).

Jadzia was a gentle lover, and thoughtful lover. She took her time with Kira’s body. Her movements never made Kira feel fragile or damaged or weak, but revered as if her body was a shrine. Neither were her actions selfish, like the sex Kira was used to (and honestly didn’t care much for anyway). Everything she did was out of the mutual sensuality of the experience, with the main goal of making Nerys feel comfortable, heard, and satisfied. She didn’t see Kira as a means to a sexual end that ended with Dax’s satisfaction and no time to explore Kira’s. There was no desperation in her touch or her eyes that was based in the uncertainty of existence or the fear of the possibility of impending death. There was no fear or uncertainty at all. There was just respect, love, and a feral passion which created an intimacy that locked Kira’s throat and made her want to be so physically close to Jadzia that she could step inside her and nestle herself right next to Dax. (They both fit if they really tried, right?)

Jadzia's eyes paused their rendezvous to lock with Kira’s. The unspoken question of whether Kira was going to let her into her room tonight swam in them. There was no reason to hold back the piece de resistance; Kira wanted it just as much as she did. So without saying a word, Kira answered Jadzia by taking her hand gently in her own hand and led Jadzia to her room and straight to the edge of the bed.

...

Jadzia smiled and crawled back up to lay beside Kira. She touched her thigh, stroking soothing lines along it. “Yeah, it can be a bit much if you never tried it before.” she cooed. Her hand was inching towards her core with each stroke. “We don’t have to do that, you know, there are other ways we can enjoy each other.” 

Her fingers lightly danced across the short hairs of Kira’s cunt. Then through them. Kira lowered her hands from her face and looked puzzled at Jadzia, but she only smiled gently back at her. Then Jadzia slipped her finger between Kira’s lips and stroked along the soaked wet slit.

“Is this okay?”

Kira nodded. Her eyes were getting heavier with each stroke. Jadzia twisted her hand to press on Kira’s thigh, coaxing her legs open and then she pulled under her knee to drape it over her hips. She steadily fingered Kira, carefully watching her face react and adjusting her speed and depth based on Kira’s moans and shifting body. Prophets, she was so good at this. Too good.

#wip game response #AHnswers #stephanidftba

[hiro-gari]

Batarou Headcanon - a Stuffed Wolf and an Old Photobook by: Little1993lamb to: Lilia / @hiro-gari

Word count: 2298 Warning: Some kissing scenes and a mention of making out, but nothing explicit.

Hello again! I’m back with more small Batarou headcanon~ 😁✨

This time I decided to write little fluffy hc for both of them, because lately I feel down more often than usual and thinking maybe some comfort writing about these secretly softie boyfriends will help 😅💦

Hope you enjoyed my little headcanon! 😉💕

—————————–

One day when Badd was cleaning Garou’s stuff boxes in attic room that he brought after the former fugitive moved into Badd’s house, he found an old mini album contained Garou’s childhood photos along with a small fluffy stuffed white wolf doll.

It was a big old fashioned photoalbum book, already became dusty from being in the storage box for a long time.

Then Badd inspected the fluffy stuffed wolf, it was still in pretty good condition as it seems someone cared enough to keep the doll from any damage. Clearly a precious gift from an important person of Garou.

When he looked it closer, the stuffed wolf is kinda adorable, too. The white fur was very fluffy, if it washed properly probably would be fluffier than its current condition. This stuffed wolf even has tiny golden beady eyes and that “ :3 ” smile on its muzzle.

‘Just like the owner of the doll’, Badd chuckled lightly by the thought. He was amused about this fact. Maybe after the entire attic cleaning has finished, he would do some quick laundry to clean up the stuffed wolf before giving it back to his handsome boyfriend.

Putting the cute stuffed wolf doll aside, Badd opened the dusty photo album.

On inside, page by page, he found alot of tiny Garou pictures, from the time he was a little baby in his mom’s craddle, his toddler days with both of his parents, until the beginning of his elementary school years. The photos were put in right order so Badd could recognized the progress of Garou’s growing up stage in a couple of years.

He didn’t know that Garou used to be a sweet looking kid, very different from what he’s like in present time. Nothing like a naughty brat or delinquent boy like Badd has imagined before, nothing at all. By seeing these picture, he figured out that Garou was a normal child, with a little bit of timid nature. So different with what Garou was currently: the confident extra dramatic feral wolfboy.

And Badd noticed the photo collections amount were diminished after Garou entered elementary school, and had completely stopped once Garou graduated the elementary school. He wondered what happened to Garou during that time.

Still curious, Badd cleaned up the dusty photoalbum and then carried it with him so he could show the album to his boyfriend. Not forgetting to also bringing the stuffed wolf doll in, he put it on the laundy as he would clean it later. After that, Badd went on searching his missing boyfriend.

He found Garou lazily lounging on top of the couch with Tama in the living room, casually watching tv while drinking cola. Once Garou noticed Badd’s presence, his eyes twinkled and he grinned widely. He patted the seat beside him so the young hero would sit together with him.

Badd approached Garou, accepting his invitation to sit beside him. He was coming into welcoming arms of his boyfriend and then leaned his head on the wolfboy’s chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. Before Garou shifted his attention back to the tv show, he saw Badd still craddling a big old photoalbum that seemed very familiar to him. He asked Badd where did he find that thing.

Badd carefully answered that he just cleaned the attic along with Garou’s old stuff, then he accidentally stumbled into his childhood memento. He had seen the photoalbum contents and wanted to give it back to Garou, probably they can salvaged the old photos and placed them into their newer photobook along with Badd’s own childhood photos.

Garou seems agreed with Badd’s suggestion, he let him do what he wanted. But Badd still curious about one thing: it’s about Garou’s past. From what Badd knows, ever since Garou moved in, he hasn’t tell Badd about his past before the hero hunting days. Wanna asked about the matters, but he afraid Garou still not ready to be more open with him.

That’s why Badd wont ask Garou something he wasn’t comfortable enough to tell.

Garou was contemplating himself, should he tell about his horrible past to Badd or not? But Garou knows Badd wont judged him no matter what happen, hopefully Badd would also understand him. Besides, they’re already giving mutual trust for each other even before they started dating. It made Garou feels very grateful to be together with Badd.

Prepared to spill the truth behind his past, Garou took a deep breath then gazed tenderly at Badd’s face for a moment, before proceeding to tell his childhood experiences.

After Garou telling Badd all of what happened to him that made him changed, Badd said, “You should look at my childhood photos, I was more like a punk kid than I am now. Besides, we could have been bestfriends, maybe with that I could protected you from any mean kids and scared them away from you”, while holding Garou in a comforting hug. In which Garou reciprocated in by enveloping the smaller body into his arms, hiding his face on Badd’s neck.

Badd continued, “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you back then, if I could turned back the time I would absolutely become your friend. So you wont be alone”, he tightened his hold onto Garou’s back. “But now you have me, we could make many happy or silly memories together as much as possible from this day on”.

Badd finished it with a gentle ruffle on Garou’s fluffy spiky hair, then kissed his cheek softly for a brief second while still holding Garou tightly.

Garou was a bit teary during listening to Badd’s heartwarming speech. He didn’t expect that one day he would be receiving those genuine reassurement words, something he desperately yearned back then years ago when he was a lonely bullied kid.

Garou wished that he could meet Badd much earlier in his life, and wished that their actual meeting between them wouldn’t be in a silly fight which was almost resulted in life-or-death situation. But of course both of them couldn’t rewind the time to make it happened.

Badd was right, the least they could do is to create many memories together and live their life the best, enjoyed it to the fullest. Maybe it wont be perfect, but as long as they’re happy then it’s alright.

Only the cheery voices from tv show and purring sounds of Tama were heard in the background. All was forgotten at the time Garou and Badd giving deep loving affections for eachother in a tight, warm embrace.

Drowned by the comfortable and relieved feeling of having someone who cares about the other dearly, everything else was just unimportant white noises for them both.

At some point Garou also shared some sweet and soft kisses for his beautiful kindhearted lover, to show how much he feels grateful to be with Badd right now, tomorrow, and for years later. For forever, as long as he still breathing.

And in return, Badd also giving the same amount of affectionate gestures for his beloved purehearted lover, by planted deep passionate kisses on his lips, whispered sweet nothings which also reassuring love vow into Garou’s ear.

This time Garou deserved to be pampered as Badd will gives permission for his boyfriend to do anything he likes, while Badd still showered him with love he has for Garou. Maybe tonight would be an interesting romantic night, considering Zenko was currently having sleepover in her bestfriend’s house so Badd could have private night with Garou.

But for now, Badd let Garou holds him in his arms, enjoying their sweet intimate moment. Purring softly in content on Garou’s chest mimicking what Tama usually does, Badd closed his sleepy eyes.

Taking a little nap together on lazy Sunday afternoon sounds not bad..

——————————

The next day after Badd coming home from Hero Association’s boring monthly meeting, Garou and him, with a generous help from Zenko, rearranging their childhood photos and placed them in a newer family photobook. They cleaned up the photo papers to make sure they wont get damaged by the dust or moths before putting them inside the new album.

Some of good pictures of Garou’s and Badd’s childhood years were being made into small collages and framed onto their bedroom’s wall. Made it seems believable, like they were actual childhood bestfriends who spent their life together since beginning. Decorated beautifully by Zenko, of course, because these two hopeless boys don’t have good aesthetic sense.

Badd promised Garou and Zenko that they will takes photos of any of their good events from now on, then collected them to save in their family photobooks. So they will have their happy moments documented throughout the time.

About the stuffed doll, Badd also digging up his own storage box and found his old handmade kitty plushy doll. It was his late mom’s handmade doll as Badd’s 5th birthday present. After he washed up the two stuffed animals, Badd placed them on top of their bed.

The adorable stuffed white wolf and the cute tuxedo kitten plushy doll, standing side-by-side together neatly on top of Garou’s and Badd’s pillows. They looked exactly just like their owners, and they’re also together now.

Badd felt so proud of his works, both for the framed photos on the wall (mostly he credited the design to his amazing lil sis!) and the decoration dolls on their bed. Garou was chuckling when he saw Badd like that, glad that his hero boyfriend had done all of it just to make Garou happy.

Garou went to hug Badd from behind, entrapped the smaller man inside loving embrace, in which Badd responded with approved humm as he leaned back into Garou’s warmth. Happy that Garou appreciated his effort.

Then Garou put his chin on Badd’s shoulder and snuggling him, while sneakily saying “Thank you, babe~” so softly into his ear. Complete with (un)necessary biting on Badd’s earlobe that made the young hero blushing brightly and elbowed the laughing wolfboy on his sternum.

The friendly bickering and light manhandling between them quickly turned into a brief steamy making out session on the bed. They were ready to escalate it further more, before repeated hard knocking from outside the bedroom door by Zenko stopped them in track, calling both of them to prepare the dinner meal.

With a teasing smile, Badd told Garou that they should continue it later after they all have dinner together. He gave a soft peck on his boyfriend’s lips, then he immediately got up to answer Zenko’s call. If Garou were really a wolf, he absolutely would joyfully wagging his fluffy tail at the moment while following Badd along towards the kitchen like a lovestrucked puppy.

Meal preparing and their family dinner went normal as usual, but Badd could feel a pair of bright golden eyes always gazing at him with much tenderness whenever Garou thought Badd didn’t noticed him doing that. He just replied it with a soft smile towards his lover.

——————————

Later at night, when both of them were ready to sleep, Badd saw Garou reaching for the stuffed white wolf and craddled it on his chest. He closed his eyes while caressing the doll with gentleness, like it was a precious rare treasure. Badd thought for a moment, Garou looked like a small innocent child like that.

Badd understand what Garou just did, it was because the doll was the last thing he got from his late mother, a present that was given for kid Garou before her death. He clearly missed his mom but haven’t got a time to reminisce the memories of her, at least until now.

Same as him, Badd himself also not too much showing his emotional burden and weakness to people after the death of his parents. Even to Zenko, because he must be strong brother for her despite he was also hurting inside, but haven’t found someone who was willing to lend their shoulder for Badd to lean on, to seek comfort at, and to help him released his bottled up emotions.

But then Garou comes into his life, slowly giving his trust and warmed up to him. Eventually he was offering Badd a chance to opened up his hidden burden as a hero and as a person, despite Garou himself still keeping his hurtful memories.

That’s why Badd also wanted to return his favor by giving him lots of happiness that Garou. That eventhough he has awful past, he still deserved to received more joyful things in his life. And Badd was more than happy to do all of it, anything to make Garou smiling genuinely more often.

Felt the sleepiness has been catching on him, Badd also grabbing his own kitten plushy doll and hugging it dearly on his chest. It’s been so long not to sleep with the doll, especially after the tragic day because it would hurt him.

Now that Badd has already found his own happiness, he could thinking his memories of his mother calmly. Not the painful one anymore but the blissful one. He still missed his father and mother so bad, of course. But he hoped their parents already in peace together in heaven. Maybe they were watching him from above there now?

Bringing the cozy blanket with him, Badd shifted closer towards Garou so his lover would cuddle him. By the instinct, the sleepy Garou put his arm around Badd and pulling him more closer until Badd could rest his head near Garou’s chest. Purring contently, Badd snuggled against the hard pecs, feeling safe and comfort already.

Both of them have a good sleep and nice dream that night in eachother’s arms. The stuffed white wolf and tuxedo kitten plushy could be found between their sleeping figures..

—————————-

🐺 THE END 🐱

—————————-

Notes:

Honestly I feel this very cheesy but I couldn’t help it, forgive me for the OOC-ness I’m so sorry! 😅💦

Also Lilia, if you noticed, this headcanon was actually based on your Garou headcanon and our small convos about it here: •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636445859688677376/what-if-garou-has-a-box-of-his-old-stuff-still •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636531124727889920/what-if-after-garou-was-gone-from-bangs-dojo-and •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636579523086958592/little-garou-with-a-stuffed-wolf-thats-so

Because I like the imagery, I tried to make a little writing from our shared headcanons. Hopefully you don’t mind it 😆💕

And I also combined those ideas with my older headcanon which I sent for @the-goddessfighter last year in here (please check out her amazing illustration for it, it’s lovely! 💖): https://the-goddessfighter.tumblr.com/post/629479209492987904/part-1-badd-was-cleaning-off-his-attic-when-he

So how was it, do you like this headcanon? 👀✨

Before I ended this note, I wanted to say sorry if my writing seems boring or uninovated, because I only rewrite/recycled the old hcs without being able to write newly fresh ones 😢😞 Or that I always writing Batarou waaaah I’m so sorry that I’ve been clogging your Garou simp blog with my submissions, I must apologize to your followers, too, forgive me– *bowing profusely* 😭🙏💦

Nowadays I’ve been slowly losing my confidence to write, because I don’t know if my works is good enough or not. Maybe I’m not good enough, but I’m very grateful for anyone who still willing to read these messy writings of mine. Thank you guys, your supports are encouraging me to keep going! I will try my best :“”)

Like usual, many thanks always being given for: @hiro-gari, @the-goddessfighter, @kaincuro, @guby1620, @garous-nipple, @jusqu-une-etudiante, and @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas, and of course all of Batarou shippers in the fandom! Thank you, I love you all~ 😭💕💖

Hope you guys have many great days, thank you~ 😚😘❤💜💙💖💝🌸🌻💐

-Little1993lamb-

—————————–

~Lilia:

aaahhH OMG our little wolf convo ;~; I’m so honored it could help inspire this beautifully nostalgic and emotional headcanon the “if I could turned back the time I would absolutely become your friend” really hit me like a bus I’ve got real tears in my eyes

It makes me so happy to imagine them having each other now, a steady support to lean on in their chaotic lives, and finally putting all those bitter memories to rest ♡

#LISTEN #I am ALWAYS honored to receive these from you!! #it’s a garou simp blog and badd’s invited too #everyone simp garou!!! #maybe it doesn’t make sense but garou being happy is my real kink 😅 #anyways thank you soso much for sending me this I love it!!! #you and the batarou shippers on here bring me so much joy :') #ilysm #submission #anon #batarou #garou #metal bat

[langdxn]

82 and 57 with Jim 🥵🥵

“I wonder what your girlfriend/boyfriend would do if they knew what you were doing right now.” // “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.”

Aaaah my first Jim request!!! Thank you so much anon, I guess this suits dark Jim but I was determined to try out fluffy Jim! Hope it’s okay anon, thank you so much for your prompts ❤️❤️

Palos Verdes was feral. Packs hunting each other in broad daylight, territorial cliques defending their own backs while stabbing each other’s.

The teachers at your new school advised you to team up with the Mason twins so you could help each other find classes, make friends easier and settle in together in such an unforgiving community. Medina was a kind, harmless soul, but her brother was a far more complex being. 

Jim found an extended group of friends to join almost as soon as he stepped into his first class, while you and Medina relied on each other to set your foundations. Jim seemed welcoming enough when he was around, but his demeanour changed when you first mentioned your boyfriend back in Tulsa, reducing his contribution to your conversations to a low mumble and a flick of his hair. 

Regardless of the unusual silent treatment, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. No matter what, his gaze was fixed on you wherever you were. Was he keeping a protective, watchful eye on you for Medina’s sake? Was he suspicious of you? Was he too scared to talk to you without his sister?

Months passed and you foolishly accepted the twins’ spontaneous offer to go surfing one Friday after school. Why foolishly? Because you couldn’t swim, let alone surf. Without a board, you settled for wading tentatively in the shallows where you could still touch the sand beneath your toes, watching the twins rule the waves from a great distance.

While Jim was tearing up a rather forbidding wave, the vicious current swept you out in a matter of seconds. Somehow, your fear of looking like an idiot in front of the twins overruled your terror of drowning, so you tried your hardest to paddle back without causing a scene, legs frantically thrashing under the surface in search of that comforting support beneath your feet. The sand grains evaded your toes, the beach offered you no life ring. Breathing so rapidly as the waves crashed around your cheeks, you inhaled salty, burning seawater and choked harshly.

Accepting your fate with weakly flailing arms leaving the water surface, you sank deeper as the waves crashed over your mouth, forcing you to breathe sharply through your nose. Your vision blurred as panic took hold, flashes of azure blue faded to grey — suddenly, two strong hands grasped your waist and pushed you up to the surface, allowing you to spit out the invading water and gasp at fresh air again. The darkness clouding your vision, however, refused to leave as pressure built in your skull. Eyes blinking wearily, the last thing you saw was a black wetsuit.

“Y/N, it’s me, Jim.”

Your friend’s voice boomed through your dream-like state laced with concern, concern that up until now you weren’t sure he could conjure. A hand rested lightly on your chest, keeping check on your breathing as you regained consciousness. Straining your exhausted eyes open, you caught a glimpse of his unforgettable brown curls tumbling in front of his face as the Mason twin leaned over you, the top half of his wetsuit tied around his toned waist. As the vision of the boy came clearer, a smile spread across his lips and slowly banished his furrowed brows and creased forehead.

“What the fuck?” You yanked yourself upright but his flat, insistent palm pressed you back down onto the sand.

“Easy there, Speedy Gonzales. You need to rest, you’ve had it rough out there.”

“Thank you, Jim,” you sighed. “I don’t even know what happened.”

“I do,” he hummed, waving his hands in demonstration. “Big fuck off wave,” he gestured at his right hand, swooping to represent a wave. “Y/N,” his left hand depicting you. He crashed his right hand into the left, both swept away together. A cheeky grin curling his lips left you both chuckling softly.

“Damn, thanks for the life saving and the comprehensive risk analysis, Mason,” you joked as you raised a palm to rest on his dripping chest.

“You’re more than welcome, damsel in distress.” Jim giggled, propping himself up on a palm rooted into the sand as he leaned over you, gaze still transfixed by your eyes. You eased yourself up on your elbows, digging gentle grooves into the sand beneath you as you turned to scan the beach around you for Jim’s sister.

“Where’s Medina?”

“She went back home to call your mom, let her know you’re okay. Should we get her to call your boyfriend for you too? I can—“

“No, no, it’s okay. He doesn’t really care that much about me anyway, he hasn’t even called in weeks.”

Jim leaned in closer, brows knitting together. There’s concern in his face again. Twice in a few minutes.

“What kind of jerk off doesn’t care about you? Why are you still with him if he’s that much of an asshole?”

“Childhood sweethearts,” you sighed, gazing into his eyes as blue as the ocean he just saved you from. “Too much hassle to split up, our parents are best friends, breaking up would only hurt our families more than us.”

Jim’s eyes roved to your mouth, watching intently as you spoke. He could see the quiver in your bottom lip, the despondent pout when you speak about your partner, the way you bite your tongue as if it will stop the words tumbling out.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered, venturing a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear then gently cupped your face.

You leaned in to kiss him first, what should’ve been a peck on his lips turned into a passionate clinch with wandering hands in each other’s hair, clashing teeth and tongues dancing in harmony. You pulled away for a moment, gazing into his eyes again.

“We—we can’t,” you stuttered. “Your house is right up there, what if Medina sees us?”

“Y/N, Medina knows I’ve had feelings for you ever since we first met.”

His large hand laid gently on your thigh, light fingertips ghosting over your skin sending shivers up your spine.

“When you mentioned your boyfriend, Medina offered to help me step back so I didn’t get too attached.”

“Jim, I didn’t—“

“You weren’t supposed to know, not until you were single anyway.”

No more words were necessary, you curled a hand into his messy curls and kissed him again, both tumbling back onto the sand as your hands explored each other. Jim’s fingertips toyed with the waistband of your bikini, looking back up into your eyes for an unspoken permission. You nodded gently, bumping noses as you melted into him.

“I wonder what your boyfriend would do if he knew what you were doing right now,” Jim muttered against your lips as his fingers hooked your panties down to your ankles, tapping your thighs apart and kneeling between them as the sand shifted slowly beneath you.

“Forget about him,” you moaned as your nerves set alight under Jim’s touch, heat traversing down between your legs as he fumbled out of his wetsuit. Spandex cast aside to the rocks beside you, Jim wasted no time in lining himself up with your folds, palming at his tip before rocking his hips into yours.

Jim was gentle, caring, considerate. Whispering sweet nothings into the shell of your ear whenever his lips weren’t fused to yours, he caressed every delicious curve of your body like he worshipped you. His hips rolled smoothly into you, sliding his length inside your heat as if you were made for each other.

Just as you thought his eyes were fully blown with lust, Jim began to notice your hips eagerly keening into his, making sure his cock hit you at such an angle that your legs quivered around his waist. His hooded eyes bore into you as he clocked your determination, a smug grin eking across his lips.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that,” he purred as he curled his hips feverishly, his staccato thrusts turning his breaths into shallow pants.

On hearing his electric praise, your eyes journeyed to the sky — the now intensely dark sky, in fact. The sun had set in the time you and Jim had been laying there. Suddenly, everything slotted into place.

“Jim,” you panted softly, earning a brief mhm in response. “You saved my life.”

Jim stopped in his tracks for a second, but his frenetic pace soon returned, one hand caressing your chin as he moaned against your lips. “That’s what you do when you love someone.”

“You—“

“Of course I do, idiot,” he groaned as his hips persevered on their quest for mutual orgasm. “Not many people untie themselves from their vintage board to save a beautiful girl from drowning.”

You hadn’t thought about his board. In all the chaos, you hadn’t even realised his pride and joy didn’t return from the water with him.

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him in for a deep, open-mouthed kiss as you looped your arms around his neck.

“I’ll buy you a new board, lover boy,” you giggled against his lips, your moans becoming more shallow and hastened as a tightening in your abdomen beckoned, calling your name as your hips desperately bucked to meet Jim’s.

“You bet your ass you will, baby.”

With one unexpected, devastating thrust, Jim’s cock twitched fervently between your folds, setting off an urgent ticking time bomb inside you that left you gushing as your walls clenched tightly around him. Jim glanced down to where your bodies met, watching with wide-eyed wonder as the concoction of your releases spilled out of you around his length.

“Mason,” you panted as Jim planted searing kisses across your collarbone, trying his hardest to make your time together last before you had to make your way home. You reached to clasp his face in your hands, his azure eyes locking with yours in a moment you knew would last a lifetime.

“I love you too.”

#jim mason #jim mason fanfiction #jim mason smut #jim mason x reader #jim mason x reader smut #cody fern #cody fern fanfiction

[mrsdemolitionlover]

For my birthday my hubby, knowing I like scary stories, wrote me a short story. I asked him if I could post it here and he says it's cool. So enjoy

Coming of Age

Jebediah takes a deep breath and smiles, letting the golden radiance of the morning sun wash over his face and hair. A gentle breeze fans the smell of grass and trees over the rolling hills of his parents’ ranch. His shirt, drenched in sweat, clings to burgeoning muscles, and his threadbare pants, heavy with mud and sweat, weathers to frayed tendrils of denim just a few inches above his ankles. "Hhm,” he chuckles warmly, remembering his mother’s fussing about how quickly he wears through clothes these days.

“Did you finish your chores?”

Jebediah tenses, startled by the sound of his older sister, which brings him out of his pensieve reflections. “Susanna! I was just taking a break. Don’t tell father-” Susanna interrupts Jebediah’s mounting defence with a disarming laugh and a playful tousle of his hair. “Fear not, Jebediah. I don’t think you can even get in trouble today. Thirteen!” She says with mock importance. “You’re a man now!”

Jebediah knocks Susanna’s hand off his head and smiles back. He knows she is teasing, but can’t help but be excited. After all, you only get one thirteenth birthday. They turn in unison when they hear their mother call them in for breakfast. Could it really be seven a.m. already?

Their mother waits for them with arms wide, waiting for a warm embrace which comes pounding in like a battering ram of love. Her two children pounce on her with coiling embraces so fervently, it nearly knocks her over. Gerta, their mother, laughs hard in spite of the pain in her back. “Ok, ok! Breakfast is ready. Wash up and serve your father first. He’s been out there since four this morning setting up for your big day.”

Their home is humble, but handsome, with warm tones of wood and leather, freshly oiled and polished. A cold hearth rests in the corner of the small living room, waiting in repose for fall, which won’t be arriving for more than a month now. Most of the dishes and cutlery in the kitchen are homemade, but artfully designed in a quaint, rustic motiff. No television or modern appliance clutter the simple design, but the family was all too grateful to have added electric lighting to the house just last year. They enjoyed a simple life, free from distractions like the internet, cellular phones, radio, or any influence of pop culture. A small collection of books adorn a sturdy bookcase next to a large, cozy-looking homemade leather chair, and serves as the primary source of entertainment when the weather was not permissible for outside play activities. But today, the weather was in their favor, which was good, because Levi had been planning his son’s birthday party since last winter.

Levi came out of the washroom just in time to see his mud-covered son grinning at him. “Goodness, son!” He belts with a throaty laugh. “You are filthy!” Jebediah smiles back at his father, and rushes into the washroom to clean up.

“Change your clothes before joining us for breakfast, son,” his father calls after him. Faintly, behind the door of the washroom, his son calls back dutifully. “Okay!

Susanna obediently grabs plates and cups to set the table, while Gerta rubs Levi’s broad shoulders. “Were you able to finish setting everything up?” She asks softly. Levi squeezes Gerta’s hand lovingly. “Yes, dear. His birthday party will be just-” he pauses to kiss his wife’s lips, “perfect.”

Gerta sighs happily. “I’m so proud. He’s growing up so quickly, too. Did you see he outgrew another pair of denim pants already? I can’t mend them fast enough!” She remarks with a bittersweet sigh. After Susanna finishes setting the table, she smiles and brings in the food. “Who knew he’d grow up to be half oak tree?” She comments with adolescent sarcasm. “He’s going to be taller than you, dad!” The family shares a warm chuckle as Jebediah comes back to the family room washed and dried and wearing fresh clothes. “What?” he inquires innocently. Again, his pants clench tightly to his calves, too short and too slender to drape properly over his muscular legs. The rest of the family share a knowing smile.

Breakfast is hot and filling, with eggs and flapjacks, bacon and steak, a tall glass of fresh milk and a piping hot mug of coffee. Conversation is warm and encouraging as they digest their food, and then the ladies clean up as the men rise from the table to get ready for the next, and most important, phase of Jebediah’s birthday.

"Did you enjoy your breakfast, son?” Gerta asks with a wink. Jebediah eagerly nods his head, “Yes mom! I wish I had another stomach so I could eat more!” His father smiles warmly. “Well, if we’re to have a dinner as good as breakfast, we’ll need to earn it,” Levi states authoritatively. Jebediah’s excitement was like a vibration in the air when they start marching to his father’s shed.

Gerta and Susanna watch on proudly as Jebediah gets ready to go on his first hunt. 

The shed is a short walk from the house, and defended stalwartly with heavy locks and thick, reinforced walls. Inside, there are hunting rifles, cleaning and hunting knives, crossbows, a bow with a quiver, and a variety of hunting accessories, including camouflage clothing, scent pouches to mask odor, and various calls, snares, and traps, as well as a dusty map and compass on a small desk. Levi leans over the map and jabs a calloused finger at a point on the map representing a recess between hills where a creek and several trees crop up. “I’ve set the traps here. In the holler. We’ll need to corral the prey there. If anything gets caught in the traps, then you can pick them off quickly and safely. Remember son. We don’t let them suffer more than they have to. It’s a gift they’re giving us. The meat we gain from a single kill can feed us for the rest of the month. Anything else we get, we can cure and preserve for the winter.”

Jebediah nods reverently, but can’t keep his eyes off the weapons. Levi gets the hint and smiles. “Pick one,” he says warmly.

The birthday boy bursts into action, checking the rifles and crossbows first. “I think I want the rifle,” he says excitedly. “Good choice, son,” Levi replies with pride. “They’re easy to load and easier to shoot. The crossbow is better for experienced hunters. It adds to the challenge and makes the hunt feel more fair. But don’t forget,” he says dramatically, “the hunting and cleaning knife.” From a sheath strapped to his hip, he pulls out a large, glistening blade with a wicked curved side, and jagged teeth on the other end. Jebediah’s eyes are wide with wonder as he admires the craftsmanship of the homemade polished bone hilt knife. “After your first kill, I’ll help you make your own. In the meantime, choose…” Levi gestures to a collection of older, more worn knives. Jebediah picks a large one, roughly eight inches, with a thick leather wrapped handle.

After draping themselves in camoflauge, selecting the rest of their supplies, and covering their scent, they head out into the hills with an excitement that bursts through their mutual restraint and expresses itself in a cocky bounce with each step. They come to the woods and Jebediah pauses to take the whole scene in. “C’mon son! We’re almost there,” his father chides. Jebediah scurries to catch up to his father.

They arrive at a cellar that had long ago been used as a storm shelter. Levi opens the heavy lock on the cellar door and steps inside. Here, there is no electricity, so Levi has to light an oil lamp hanging from a large hook. They proceed slowly so they don’t trip in the dim light. The flickering orange glow of the lamp reveals several cages, most of which are empty, but three have animals sleeping in them. Levi presses a finger over his lips and sneaks closer to Jebediah. Gently, Levi whispers, “They’re drugged so they sleep until we wake them. I’ve kept them fed but always a little hungry, and I prod them daily so they stay feral and hate people. Remember, son. They are very dangerous. Corner them, and they’ll try to kill you, so get toward the back wall, and point your rifle at each one I release until it’s gone up the stairs.”

He grabs a cattle prod and waits for Jebediah to get in position. Starting with the one closest to Jebediah, he prods the first one awake: a scrawny, but scrappy female, who screams in pain enough to stir the others. “Noooo!” She cries desperately. “Please no! Please let me go!” She charges the cage and gets zapped again for her effort. While she twitches on the ground, Levi pulls out his bone handle knife and sticks her in the thigh. She howls again in pain.

“Shh… shhh. You’re going to wake the others too soon,” Levi whispers to the weeping woman. “Hey,” he coos soothingly. “Today’s your lucky day. I’m going to let you go free. But that wound in your leg… it’s going to kill you if you don’t run and find a doctor. Now, don’t worry, it isn’t a major artery, but those anticoagulants I’ve been giving you will keep the wound from closing very quickly. I figure you’ve got until nightfall at best before you are dead.” He opens the gate to the pen and gestures to the door. “I suggest you get going.”

The woman looks confused and frightened, but Jebediah points the rifle directly at her left eye, and that’s all the motivation she needs. She scrambles toward the door, weeping and panting in pain with every step. Levi smiles at Jebediah. “That’s one.”

He steps forward to the next one and zaps him: a portly, elderly male, whom he stabs in the ample belly and gives the same instructions. He stumbles away, begging for his life. “The older meat is more tender, son. He’ll be a good catch.”

He then prods the third one, a tall, muscular male. He recovers quicker than Levi expects and punches through the cage at him. Levi offers a shocked laugh when he barely avoids the strike. “See what I mean son? They’ll get you if you give them a chance.”

“I’ll kill you, hillbilly son of a- AAAAAAGHHH!” he screams as he gets the prod again, and doubles over in pain. Levi stabs him in the shoulder and gives him the same instructions as he gave the previous two. However, before opening the gate, he makes sure Jebediah has the rifle on the big male. “Or you can die right here,” he says as he opens the gate. Fury, pain, and fear in his eyes, the big male charges out the gate and up the stairs.

Wiping off his hunting knife, he looks up at his son and smiles. “Alright, son! You ready?” Jebediah takes a deep breath and responds excitedly, “Yeah!”

“Then let’s go hunting!”

***    ***    ***

Levi sheaths his knife, and leads the way up the stairs. Once Levi confirms that the prey has left, he signals Jebediah forward. “See the tracks? And the blood trails?” Levi shows his son the tell-tale marks of footprints and crimson droplets left on the crushed grass. Jebediah touches the blood and rubs it between his fingers and smiles when comprehension hits. “They’re heading the right way!”

“Except one. Can you figure out which?” Levi responds with an educator’s tone. Jebediah hmms about it for a few seconds, but feels the pressure to answer quickly as their quarry increases the distance from them. “The doe?” He asks hastily.

“That’s right, son! The footprints are smaller. The old bull and the stag are heading the right way. So let’s get the doe first.”

After a brisk jaunt over the hill, they spot the woman frantically limping through the grassy hills, screaming for help. Considering her injury, she was covering an impressive distance. Jebediah lines up his shot, aiming for the base of the skull, just like his father taught him. The bullet fires with a thunderous sound, sending a screaming red-hot hunk of metal shearing through her left shoulder. She shrieks in agony and drops to the ground. They catch up to her. Softly she whimpers the same word over and over. “Please, please, please...” Tears choke her words and she clutches and unclutches the grass, tearing small divots into the soft turf of the verdant hill. Levi nods to Jebediah, “Finish it quickly… don’t make her suffer.”

Obediently, Jebediah kneels down and gently pulls her head up by the forehead, revealing the soft creamy flesh of her neck. “Thank you,” he whispers to her as he drags the shimmering edge of his knife across her jugular. Fear and pain, slowly fade to confusion and then ultimately the dull glaze of death as waves of crimson dribble from the newly formed gaping grin spread across her slender throat.

“We should hunt the old bull, next,” advises Levi. “But first, let’s get the meat back to the women so it can be cleaned and deboned.” A scream echoes through the open hills from the woods… the voice of the bull. “He got caught by the traps… good. That’ll buy us some time,” comments Jebediah, a little worried that his prey would get away.

Susanna and Gerta look excited when they see Levi carrying the first kill over his broad shoulders. Gerta looks to Susanna, “Ok, now. Go wash up. The carcass needs to be cleaned and filleted, and the hide needs to be tanned for leather. Gerta helps Levi set the body down on the cleaning table and looks a little disappointed. “A shot in the shoulder? That’ll damage the hide, and takes out some good stew meat.”

“A good kill, though. Especially for a first one,” Levi says, clapping Jebediah on the back. “Don’t forget to set aside a thigh bone for a knife handle. We should get going. There are two more to get, and at least one of them is caught in a trap.” Gerta shooshes the men out the door and gets to work instructing Susanna on how to remove the skin without damaging it. 

Levi and Jebediah beeline for the woods, taking care to reference the map once they get into the threshold of the holler. Going by memory to the last place they think the sound came from, they find a snapped bear trap, dripping hot, wet blood from its metal teeth. A splattering trail of scarlet viscera leads the way to the location of the bull. Jebediah leads the hunt, more confident now that he’s made his first kill. They sneak silently through the trees and foliage, listening for the telltale sounds of a limping, wounded bull. They come upon the creek, to find him passed out near the bank, his skin pale from blood loss. Jebediah looks visibly deflated knowing that he didn’t get to take the kill, but lights up when he hears the old man groan. Jebediah gasps and looks excitedly at his father. “The bull is still alive!” he rasps enthusiastically. Levi nods. “You know what you need to do, son.” Jebediah skips happily over to the old man, and kneels down. “Thank you,” he whispers to the bull, but then is taken by surprise when his prey rolls over, holding a rocks and slams the boy in the face with it. “OW!” Jebediah screams. Levi, also startled by the sudden display of aggression, begins to charge forward, but is grappled to the ground by the young stag, who slams fist after pounding fist into Levi’s jaw and cheekbones!

Jebediah rolls backward as the old man grasps at him and manages to latch onto the gun. He and the bull wrestle over the sweat slick firearm for several seconds. The old man grunts with the strain and twists hard, trying to wrench the rifle loose, and Jebediah retaliates with a series of vicious kicks to the head.

Levi takes the punches bravely, focusing all his energy on getting to his handmade bone hilt knife. Finally, he unsheaths it and swipes it across the stag’s defensively raised forearms. Blood sprays in a crimson arc, but the stag is fueled by fear and adrenaline. He rolls backward, and Levi springs to a stand and charges in to lash out with another vicious cut. Then he steps on a plate of metal and hears a loud clank. SNAP! A bear trap clamps down on his calf, biting through flesh and cracking bone. There wasn’t supposed to be a trap there! Levi thought desperately himself. He had to admit, he was impressed that the stag managed to find a trap and relocate it without springing any of the others. The bull and the stag had set up a very clever ambush. But Levi didn’t have time to admire the cleverness of his prey. His son was calling out to him, and they were both in a lot of trouble.

The stag kicks him hard in the face, launching him sprawling to the ground, and sending the hunting knife skittering along the rocks. The stag doesn’t hesitate, and scrambles for Jebediah and the rifle. “Get the gun!” The old bull shouts to the stag. It’s clear that with his injuries, the bull is losing the fight to Levi’s son, so the stag swings hard with a vicious right jab that sends explosions of light through Jebediah’s brain, but he holds tight to the gun. Spinning quickly, the boy jams a thrusting kick into the stag’s groin, causing him to double over in pain, then he jabs his thumb into the stag’s shoulder wound. The young man howls in agony and drops to his knees, grabbing young Jebediah by the throat. The boy clings to the rifle desperately, but he knows that soon, he will either have to let go of the rifle, or die.

Jebediah looks at the old bull, whose precious life blood continues to pulse from his leg and stomach wounds. His eyelids are drooping, and his face is blanched from lack of blood. It won’t be long now. Maybe I can hold out, the boy thinks to himself, but he can feel the stag’s hands close around the jugular. If it gets crushed, Jebediah won’t have much time either. He closes his eyes and begins to say his silent prayers...

He feels the stag’s grip lighten on his throat and then slip away completely.

Jebediah opens his eyes to see Levi standing over the stag with his knife buried to the handle in the back of the younger man’s thick, muscular neck. Levi’s leg is shredded and unnaturally twisted from the ravages of the bear trap, but his love for his son gave him the strength to free himself from the trap and cross the twelve feet to rescue the boy. Jebediah jerks the rifle away from the old man and kicks him in the head one last time before coming to his father’s aid. Levi wipes the blood drenched knife on his pants and then hands it to Jebediah. “Here you go son. You earned it,” He huffs through the pain. Jebediah sets his father gently down by the bank and stabs the old man in the side of the neck, finishing the kill.

“How’s your leg?” He asks his Levi. His father inspects the damage. “It’s not the first, and it’s not the worst. I’ll live. But we need to get back home to your mother so she can clean it up.”

Using field dressings from their pack, they bind the wound. It takes Sussana and Jebediah two trips to bring back the last two carcasses from the hunt, but they finally get everything home and ready to be butchered. They find Levi reclining in his chair with thick bandages on his leg. “Good thing we caught enough to get us through the winter,” He says with a smile that is half grimace. “Your mother says it could take six weeks for the leg to heal.”

Jebediah balls his fists. “I should’ve made that fat old bull suffer for that.” Levi shakes his head. “No… that’s just an animal doing what he can to survive. You can’t blame him for not wanting to be eaten anymore than you can blame us for wanting to eat. Besides, it was an important lesson about being overconfident. It makes you stupid. Next year, they won’t be trapped unarmed, and kenneled, son. Next year, they’ll be whatever comes on our property. Some of them may even have weapons. So, we should learn from this.”

Gerta nods her head approvingly at the important lesson about hunting, then holds out a cleaned and polished bone for Jebediah. “I’ve got your thigh bone ready for you to carve, son.”

The End.

#writing #scary stories #horror #horror story #hunting #cannibalism #hillbillies #short story #scary story #jebediah #levi #coming of age #13th birthday #hunters

[rainesclan]

[Two]: Draw Your Swords

Description: With Brynn’s memories blocked, she and Adrian pay a visit to New Orleans...where first meetings don’t exactly go as planned.

Rating: PG-13

Pairing(s): Adrian x BB MC // Nik x NB MC

Words: 3,266

A/N: It’s finally here...and I’m so sorry for the delay! I got super sick while I was working on this and got completely thrown out of it for a while + resumed writing for another fandom...so long story short I got really backed up! If you haven’t read Part One (or forget what happened because it’s been six years sjndhs), you can find it here !

Even in the night’s darkness, the streets of New Orleans were lit up by the neon signs hanging above storefront shops and bars, beckoning those who were still awake into their confines. Despite how late it had gotten, the cheerful shouts and bellowing laughs of tourists still floated up to the balcony where Brynn stood overlooking the city in front of her, and the gentle breeze was welcome against her warm skin. 

Her fingers curled around the metal railing as she silently observed. Perhaps, she thought, the idea of visiting New Orleans for the first time would have been more fun had it been under better circumstances. With a small sigh, she blinked back the hot mist that had begun to burn behind her eyes without warning. 

Maybe she had been naive in thinking that the troubles of the immortal world would be behind them after Gaius. Gaius was, unfortunately, not the only thing that had been plaguing Adrian and the others’ community for centuries. The Order was, without a doubt, still terrorizing Europe. Newly turned vampires were still becoming feral by the minute. Sometimes it almost seemed as if immortality was more about surviving than actually living. 

She heard the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony open and could feel someone ease into the space next to her — close, but not close enough to make physical contact. Adrian was cast in the glow of the city lights when she turned to look at him, and his eyes flickered over the passing crowds on the street below them with stoic concentration. 

“So have you always been this beautiful or has immortality just happened to be really kind to you?” She asked lightheartedly, nudging her shoulder playfully against his to punctuate the question. 

The familiar intensity of his gaze broke, and he couldn’t help but chuckle along with her. “I’m not sure I have an answer for that.” He took a glance down at his watch before moving an arm around her shoulders and gently pulling her closer to his side. “We still have about an hour until we’re meeting with Cal. Did you want to do some sightseeing until then?”

Brynn shrugged. She knew that she normally would have said ‘yes’ without hesitation, but perhaps the stress of the last few days’ events were taking more of a toll on her than she’d realized. “If you want to,” she finally responded. 

A comfortable quiet settled between them as they continued to watch the cheerful scene below them. People smiling...dancing with one another...seemingly without a care in the world that extended past where they were going to get their next drink.

“I promise the next trip we take will be under better circumstances,” He said. Brynn leaned her head against his shoulder with a barely audible sigh, a gentle, southern breeze ruffling the hair that fell neatly over her shoulders. “I know you’re worried, but if we survived Gaius we can survive anything.”

Maybe he was right, she thought. Thinking back, it was a miracle in and of itself that they’d all survived those few months of what could only be aptly described as a living nightmare. Being attacked by Gaius upon his initial return...the slaughter at Serafine’s club...the shock of watching Elias burn to death at the hands of the Order...

Through it all, however, they had survived. Barely...but they did. And the newest situation at hand — while still in need of a timely solution — was minor in comparison.

“I just hope it doesn’t get worse before it gets better,” she finally responded. 

“It won’t. I won’t let it.” The certainty with which he spoke was almost enough to convince her that he knew this for a fact. “These attacks are happening at random. Whoever’s behind them is more than likely an amateur...someone who knows a great deal about the supernatural and has decided to take up vampire hunting for sport.”

“An amateur who knows enough to put some sort of ward on my memories?” 

“Like I said, most people who take up vampire hunting are well versed in our history. They may just be taking extra precaution...but every amateur makes a mistake somewhere along the way.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

A slightly tense silence settled over them, but when she could feel his hand touch her elbow and turned to look at him, she could see the sincerity behind his eyes. She could tell that wasn’t just telling her what she wanted to hear in that given moment. 

“We’ll figure it out, Brynn,” he promised.

With a slow nod, she finally conceded. After all, he had much more experience with this sort of thing than she did. Apparently this wasn’t the first rogue vampire slayer wreaking havoc among the immortal community, and she doubted it would be the last. 

“I just...” she started, but allowed her words to trail off. 

Adrian’s soft smile faltered when her eyebrows knitted together in what was clearly some sort of distress. “What?”

“I just thought things would be okay for a while,” she finished. With a low sigh, she turned herself around to face him. “I guess I just hoped...” She shook her head, shifting her eyes up to meet his as she let her lips curve into a small smile, despite the sadness still present behind her eyes. “These last two years...not being on the run or watching our backs everywhere we go...being able to just be...I guess I just got used to it.”

“I’ve always stood behind the idea that monotony is underrated.” 

Brynn rolled her eyes, but couldn’t contain the smile that came along with it. “I wouldn’t exactly call anything about your world monotonous,” she said.

Adrian’s smile was playful. Genuine. The type to put her mind at ease even with the circumstances at hand. “Clearly you haven’t sat through enough Council meetings,” he teased in response. 

Despite the circumstances, Brynn couldn’t help but consider how nice it was to see him in relatively good spirits during a time of discontent. Everything that had happened following Gaius’s return had weighed so heavily on his heart. She had seen the light gradually fade from behind his eyes each time they were faced with a new obstacle or tragedy. Serafine’s abduction. Elias’s death. She hated what it all had done to him. 

Seeing that glimmer of passion slowly begin to return with each passing day since, however, had been some of the highlights of the past two years. It was as if Gaius being gone for good had finally released the chains that had always shackled him to the idea that he was nothing more than a monster. For the first time in a long time, he seemed to believe her when she would remind him of how much good he had done for others. The past was finally behind him...nothing more than a fading landscape in the rearview mirror.

Her arms found their way around his neck, and he pulled her closer with a soft, thoughtful gaze. “I’m so happy I met you, Adrian Raines,” she reminded him, her fingers toying absentmindedly with the collar of his shirt. He looked as if he wanted to respond, a fond smile falling upon his lips, but she beat him to it when she pulled away from their embrace and took his hand in hers. “Come on. I think I actually do want to check out the city after all.”

Later that night, after following the directions that Cal had sent, Brynn and Adrian found themselves standing outside of an unassuming looking bar. Despite the fact that the outside didn’t draw much attention, the rowdy voices and raucous laughter of the crowd from within could be heard even through the brick separating them. 

Adrian glanced down at his phone to double check the given address, then back up to the wooden sign that hung just outside the door, where the words Graveyard Shift were printed against the worn mahogany in thick, black letters. “Huh.”

It was a short, almost inaudible sound, but it caught the attention of the woman by his side nevertheless. 

“What?” She inquired. 

“This place has certainly changed.” He studied the weathered sign with a glimmer of fondness behind his eyes. “This bar holds quite a few fond memories for me.” 

With a teasing smile, she ghosted the tips of her fingers against the sleeve of his jacket. “Memories of Serafine?” She asked, the familiar name of their mutual friend rolling off her tongue in a singsong tone. 

Adrian chuckled, but she couldn’t help but notice how he scratched awkwardly at the collar of his shirt. “That’s...beside the point.”

When she pushed the heavy doors open with nothing more than a knowing smirk, the music and the voices of the crowd were a rush to the head, and her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting of the interior as she took it all in. She could feel Adrian’s hand gently grasp hers before he leaned closer to speak to her over the noise. 

“I think I saw Cal over by the bar,” he said.  

Dozens of mingling people — each somehow seemingly more beautiful than the last — crowded the path to the bar as they made their way through the crowd. The path of open space narrowed, pushing them shoulder to shoulder with the strangers surrounding them. So close that Brynn could smell the floral perfume of the woman she had shimmied past who was holding onto the arm of a hulking young man with long, unruly hair. The man whose gaze lingered warily on Adrian as they passed. 

“Not many of you around here,” the man commented, holding the same appraising stare. 

“I’m sorry?” Adrian inquired. 

“You. Your kind,” he clarified. The words should have sounded harsh, but his tone was level...casual even. “I could smell you before you even came in the door. Must not be from around here, huh?” 

Adrian studied him carefully, his eyebrows knitted slightly in focus, but before he could conjure up a response, someone was calling across the bar to the stranger, drawing his attention away from the scenario at hand. He wished the couple well, wasting no time before grasping the hand of the woman who was with him and dragging her across the bar to the small group that waited for him. 

“Okay...what was that about?” Brynn said. 

“Not sure, honestly,” Adrian admitted. “But I’d advise you to stay on guard.” 

“Meaning?”

“Meaning...I’m not sure just how much this place has changed...but if I had to guess, I’d say most of these people aren’t human.” 

Brynn’s eyes scanned the crowd as his words processed. They certainly looked human...but then again, so did Adrian. He had mentioned to her on more than one occasion that vampirism was not even the tip of the iceberg when it came to the oddities of the supernatural world. 

The crowd began to thin just slightly as they approached the sturdy, wooden bar near the back of the establishment. A beautiful woman in a skintight black dress sat nursing the last few sips of a mixed drink as she shared a laugh with the bartender. And directly next to her sat a familiar face. 

As if he could sense their presence without needing to hear or see them at all, Cal turned around to face them almost as soon as they had come within a reasonable distance. The corners of his lips turned up into a fond smile, and he stood to greet the expected duo. 

“I was starting to think y'all got lost,” he greeted them with a smile. He and Adrian shook hands, but when he turned to offer the same gesture to Brynn he found himself being pulled into a tight hug instead. “Oof!” He chuckled. “Good to see you too. Kinda wish we’d stop meeting under life or death circumstances though.” 

“I guess Adrian explained everything on the phone?” She inquired. 

Cal nodded, and the three of them took the three empty barstools next to the woman in black. “I figured the worst of things was over after the whole mess that broke out right after Vegas. Word about that traveled a lot faster than this.” 

“It’s a relatively new development, and the senior members of the Council have been extra cautious in keeping it under wraps,” Adrian explained. “We’re hoping it can be resolved before it becomes a crisis.”

“Well maybe things are different up north of the Mason Dixon, but a serial vampire hunter who can wipe people’s memories sounds a hell of a lot like a crisis to me.” At the sound of Cal’s statement, Brynn’s eyebrows creased in worry. Cal, however, offered up a small, yet reassuring smile in her direction. “Listen, if it really is a ward you’re dealing with, my friends who live in the apartment upstairs might be able to help you. I haven’t met a spell they can’t break.” 

“So your friends...” Brynn paused as she searched for her words, “they’re...witches?”

Cal threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “Not quite,” he said. “They’re Nighthunters. I’m sure Adrian knows the field.”

It wasn’t until her attention was brought back to Adrian that Brynn noticed him bristle just slightly before confirming. “I’m familiar.”  

Brynn had, admittedly, felt as if her head was starting to spin. Cal had mentioned New Orleans being home to more oddities than she could wrap her head around when they had first met, but things seemed to be getting more foreign by the second. And the connotation that came along with referring to these people as hunters, combined with Adrian’s seemingly negative reaction to the idea, she couldn’t help the feeling of uneasiness that settled over her. 

“And by Nighthunters you mean...?”

“They're no threat,” Adrian assured her without her needing to directly voice the concern that was imminent in her tone. “Most are headstrong and needlessly arrogant...but safe nevertheless.”

The dashing blonde man who stood behind the bar slid two drinks up to the out-of-towners with a radiant smile. 

“Headstrong and arrogant? Sounds like our Nik alright,” he teased before nodding towards the full glasses. “These are on the house. You two looked like you could use something to take the edge off, and any friend of Cal’s is a friend of mine.” 

“Thank you. That’s very generous,” Adrian said. He studied the way that the colors in the drink seemed to swirl almost hypnotically for just a moment, but before he could take a sip he was interrupted by the familiar tone of his cell phone. “It’s Kamilah. If you’ll all excuse me, I need to take this.”

Cal and Brynn sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before she eventually picked up her drink to taste the neon liquids that swirled together in front of her.  A rush of what could have only been described as a cross between adrenaline and euphoria ignited in the pit of her stomach as she drank, and the same bartender who had provided the mysterious concoction for them watched with an amused smile. 

A giggle slipped past her lips involuntarily, and when her eyes reconnected with the bartender’s he only offered a chuckle and a friendly wink. “Fae specialty,” he said without her needing to ask. “Guaranteed to turn any frown upside-down.”

Brynn’s lips parted to respond, but Cal beat her to it. “Speaking of Fae specialties,” he started, slipping off of the barstool he had been seated on before holding his hand out to his guest, “since we’re here...we should go see if Arya’s home. The sooner your problem’s solved the better.” 

“Good idea,” she agreed. “Let me go tell Adrian where to find us.” 

“I’ll go. Just wait for me by the stairs.” Brynn glanced over her shoulder when Cal nodded towards a small alcove in the back of the bar before disappearing into the crowd to make his way towards the front door.

Doing as she was instructed, she shimmied her way through the small clusters of bar patrons over to the back exit that seemed to lead up into the aforementioned apartment. Living above a bar certainly didn’t seem ideal...especially a bar that seemed as active as this one. Out of curiosity, she dipped into the alcove and climbed about a quarter of the way up the stairs to see if the living situation was quieter than it seemed at first glance. 

Surprisingly enough, the sounds of the bar had practically faded into nothingness, and the darkness of the corridor invited her into an almost comforting silence. But something felt...amiss. 

She peered up the stairs with a squint, noticing that the door at the top was slightly ajar once her eyes adjusted to the darkness. And when the ringing in her ears settled from the sheer volume of the bar just a few feet away, she could hear a thud followed by what sounded like the crash of something being knocked to the floor. 

Instinct urged her to call up the short distance and make sure that everything was okay, but if there was anything she had learned within the past few years, it was that she always wanted to be thinking two steps ahead. So instead of calling out and drawing any unwanted attention to herself, she quietly began to creep up the stairs instead. 

The floor creaked just slightly under the weight of her shoes as she inched closer to the sound of what seemed to be some sort of struggle, and she moved more slowly with each step as she tried to listen in. Another thud sounded against the wall before she could hear a muffled shout.

“Let go of me!”

She peeked into the apartment to find it empty and deduced that the struggle must have been coming from another room. Using the edge of her shoe, she silently nudged the ajar door open just enough so that she could slip into the confines of the apartment.

“Let go of you? You think it’s gonna be that easy?” 

At the sound of the following words, Brynn scooped up the first thing she could find: a heavy vase resting on the end table next to the couch. And with stealth that even she didn’t know she possessed, she finally found herself standing in the doorway to the room that held the source of all the noise, watching a man with a crossbow slung over one shoulder subdue a woman in a red jacket as she struggled to free herself from his vice-like grip. 

Without a second thought, Brynn pulled her arm back and launched the vase towards the perpetrator, where it hit with a heavy thud against his shoulder blade and successfully resulted in him breaking his stronghold on the woman in his grasp. 

“Ow! Shit!” He hissed. His crossbow fell to the floor with a clang when his hand moved to grab his injured shoulder in agony. “What the hell?!” 

The woman turned around and quickly gathered the fallen crossbow into her own hands. Brynn expected her to deliver a finishing blow that would be sure to at least keep him down until she could get away with the help of the distraction. 

What she didn’t expect was for the woman to turn the crossbow on her. 

Heart thudding in her chest, Brynn held up her hands in a surrender. “Hell of a way to say thank you.” She scoffed through gritted teeth. 

“Thank you?” The woman asked. “For what? Trying to brain my boyfriend with a vase?” 

“Your boyfriend? He was attacking you!”

“We were sparring!”

“Hold on, Arya, I think this might be-” The man interjected, as if to quell the situation at hand, but was cut off by the click of her steadying the crossbow. 

“No. No more small talk,” Arya - the crossbow wielder - stated with steely confidence. “Now you’ve got twenty seconds to explain what the hell you’re doing in our apartment.” 

series tag list: @kinda-iconic , @bloodboundismylife , @thepinknymph​

#adrian x mc #adrian raines #bloodbound #playchoices #read more #on your life fic #playchoices fic #me like five months later...sorry ajsndjx

[victorineb]

Fic Recs Mega Post

Whenever I write one of these posts I’m struck by the sheer amount of incredible writing talent in this little fandom of ours. It is quite astonishing, and it’s a privilege to get to read all of this wonderful work. Below there’s a small selection of the fantastic stuff I’ve been reading recently, featuring gods, monsters and feral jungle men - and that’s just for starters!

Storms (series) by @lovecrimevariations (KareliaSweet): This frankly astonishing series starts out in barnstorming but fairly innocuous style in Where Are The Storms I Was Promised, in which Will Graham, famous monster hunter, is called to deal with the Wendigo that’s been terrorising an entire town. And then it proceeds, over the course of a further six instalments, to document the beautiful, bloody, often painful course of the relationship between Will and Hannibal, constantly deepening and recontextualising the ‘verse as it goes. Reading this series is almost like watching a really good magic trick – every time you think you’ve got its measure, it pulls something new and surprising out of its hat. And it’s not just flash and sparkle either, the writing is utterly beautiful, the characters are perfectly captured and it is both deeply funny and enormously moving (I was genuinely weepy a number of times throughout). Plus, it also features a majestic, powerful, do-not-under-any-circumstances-fuck-with incarnation of Bedelia, who is worth the price of admission all by herself. Seriously, she was my favourite part of this whole series and I love it beyond any sense or reason. If you have any love of writing whatsoever, read this series, it is a masterclass.

You’ll be in my heart by @starkaryen: Based on the totally beautiful art (here and here) by @camilleflyingrotten, here Will is a scientist on an expedition to find and study gorillas. Instead, he ends up finding Hannibal, a mostly-feral man who lives in the jungle, has an adopted gorilla family, and takes an immediate shine to Will. Who, because this is Will and Hannibal, finds himself taking a shine right back. And all is rosy in Camp Hannigram, until Jack damn Crawford sticks his nose in (like always) and threatens Hannibal’s way of life. As befits the utterly gorgeous artwork, this fic is just lovely from start to finish. It features a particularly adorable version of Hannibal – the scenes in which he indulges his obsession with Will’s safari hat are nothing short of precious – and a charmingly earnest Will. It’s a simple, innocent bit of loveliness, which is rather refreshing in this dark and sophisticated fandom of ours XD.

(Also, if you’d like a little more Tarzan AU, this time with an A/B/O flavour, check out Hannizan by @hotsauce418, which is just pure filth and utterly wonderful with it XD.)

We, the common by @thelongcon23 (thelongcon): A retelling of the show (and beyond) in omegaverse style, this fic alternates masterfully between Hannibal and Will’s POVs as the omega becomes fascinated, obsessed, and ultimately falls in love with the alpha. The result is that while the course of events remains largely the same         (Will still gets framed and gutted, and they still go over the cliff in each other’s arms), others change drastically (the way Will locates Hannibal in Florence, for instance, gets a very clever omegaverse twist). And their relationship after the fall? Well, I can pretty much guarantee you’ve never seen it go down quite like this before. If you’re looking for fluff, I suggest you go elsewhere, but if you’re after passion, intensity, and that terribly Hannigram sense that love and cruelty are not mutually exclusive, this is the fic for you. The writer has a firm grip on the characters’ voices and motivations and is uncompromising and incisive in their betrayal of both. This is not necessarily an easy read (particularly towards the end, when Hannibal gives Will a reckoning of his own) but it is a compelling and fascinating one.

Cookies by @desperatelyseekingcannibals (TigerPrawn): Now, those of you who are after some fluff, here’s some of the best around. Tiger’s non-cannibal AU is an absolute treat, full of emotional idiots, kick-ass women and a totally adorable kid (and I don’t say that lightly cos kid!fic ain’t my thing!). It all starts when Will accompanies his daughter Abigail as she goes door-to-door selling cookies for charity and finds himself face to face with the ever-so-handsome Doctor Lecter. And then somehow, before he knows it, Will is agreeing to a date in exchange for Hannibal buying all of Abby’s stock, and soon finding that he might have stumbled into a real relationship. Not that it’s smooth sailing, of course, this is still Hannigram we’re talking about! It is my deep and ardent belief that Hannibal dreams of being a romcom when it grows up and with this utterly charming, romantic, as-sweet-as-its-name-suggests fic, that dream is made a reality. Anyone who’s ever wanted to see Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter fall in love the old-fashioned way (you know, without all those annoying stints in prison and near-fatal injuries), treat yourself and read this fic. I guarantee it will melt even the most dark and twisted of hearts.

Picture Imperfect by @shiphitsthefan: Will Graham is a very special alpha – unlike many of his sex, he can be trusted not to turn into a hormonal animal around omegas. It’s how he’s made his career as a photographer. That is, right up until he’s in a room with concert harpsichordist Hannibal Lecter and everything goes to hell when they scent each other and can barely keep themselves from ripping their clothes off and bonding right there and then. Seems like they’re true mates and it’s only a matter of time before they give into their urges – so Will, being a decent and respectful alpha, has to get this courtship show on the road before that happens. Well, mostly before that happens. Given the UST inherent to the plot, this is every bit as intensely, stupidly hot as you’d hope, but it’s also a really clever, thoughtful exploration of the omegaverse concept, set in a ‘verse in which omegas are the ruling gender, a nice reversal of the usual a/b/o setup. Plus it has an almost indecently adorable version of Hannigram, in which progressive Will and traditionalist Hannibal attempt to conjoin their lives so that they can get on and shag already! Smart and sexy a/b/o is one of our fandom’s greatest strengths and this is truly just an exemplary version of it.

Space Invader II: A Very Darko Sequel by @devereauxsdisease: A sequel to the utterly wonderful Space Invader (and if you haven’t read it, I’m begging you, go remedy that this instant), this return to Dev’s Spacedogs ‘verse sees Adam and Nigel still ensconced in blissful coupledom. So blissful, in fact, that it’s making Darko wonder if he might want some of that relationship stuff for himself. Cue the appearance of a certain sassy lab tech last seen working for the FBI. That’s right, Beverly Katz is alive, in town and about to rock Darko’s world XD. This is just an utter joy to read, stuffed with Dev’s trademark mix of fantastic dialogue, heartfelt emotion and wickedly dirty jokes. And best of all is her way with the characters, all of whom are wonderfully loveable and who work beautifully together. I spent the whole fic marvelling at the way in which these disparate characters come together and feel like they were always meant to be that way – they make a lovely, entertainingly weird family and are never less than an utter delight to spend time with.

Forgemaster by @llewcie: Valhalla Enchanted by way of the Greek gods now, in this peerless piece of sweetness by the lovely Llew. Char and Ella are the new Dionysus and Aphrodite (in this ‘verse, the gods can retire and be replaced) and live like brother and sister, i.e. bickering, winding each other up, pushing each other’s buttons... They particularly like making bets, which winds up with Ella making Char agree to three dates with Hephaestus, being played in this fic by One Eye. Given that One Eye is unsociable, ragged, and constantly dirty from his forge, Char is less than impressed with his companion and says so… somewhat unfortunately within One Eye’s earshot. So when, despite himself, Char finds himself falling for the blacksmith god’s charms, he’s got a lot of work to do to convince One Eye that he’s worth the trouble! Llew has the charm turned up all the way to eleven in this gorgeously frothy, funny little comedy of errors, with a sweetly vain version of Char melting under the steadily growing appeal of One Eye’s gentle strength. If you need cheering up for any reason, this fic should be your first port of call.

Pure Imagination by @constructfairytales (beforethedawn and Destinyawakened): Stranger Things was one of my favourite shows last year (admittedly it’s no Hannibal, but what is?). It was smart and weird, and as an 80s baby it pressed every last one of my nostalgia buttons, from soundtrack to costume design. So, of course, it was with nothing but delight that I started this crossover AU, in which Will is police chief of the town where young Will Byers goes missing and Hannibal is the psychiatrist he brings in to counsel the traumatised community. And I wasn’t disappointed – this is a fantastic blend of Hannibal’s surreal romanticism with the full-on monstery weirdness of the ST ‘verse, with plenty of unexpectedly but pleasingly fluffy Hannigram at the centre of it. Though it follows the basic plot of ST, having Will and Hannibal involved inevitably shakes things up (Will’s empathy is given a brilliant twist) and predictable this certainly ain’t. Instead it’s fun, thrilling and playful, with at least one story development that genuinely had me on the edge of my seat. And did I mention the Hannigram? Cos, yeah, there’s no slow burn here. Our boys are goners from the second they meet and the intensity of their connection is all kinds of wonderful.

The Estate by @bokuno-jinsei: Amusingly, the tags on this fantastic fic eventually turn into a short plea for Will Graham to stop thinking so much (a plea which anyone who’s written the over-analytical little shit will know is hopeless). Fortunately, Will clearly paid no attention, and so we readers are treated to this charmingly introspective piece of canon divergence. So, Hannibal gets as far as sitting Will at the dinner table in Florence. But, before he can get out his bonesaw, he seemingly has second thoughts and so Will wakes some time later to find himself ensconced in the last place he expected to revisit – Lecter Castle. Where, he finds, Hannibal has decided to change the game between them: if Will agrees to see if they can live together, Hannibal will cease any attempts to change or influence Will. So the pair find themselves as the unlikeliest of roommates as Will wrestles with his demons, his desires and, inevitably, his feelings for Hannibal. Anybody who enjoys intense conversations, brewing sexual tension and Hannibal in waders (yes, really), step this way, you’re in for a treat.  

Inevitable by Vulcanmi: I do adore canon divergence. And I have a weakness for prison fics (love Hannigram falling in love while incarcerated). So this fic is entirely my jam. It picks up in the second half of s3: Hannibal is in jail, Will is “happily” married to Molly, and Jack is still desperate to have his pet empath back on board to deal with the Tooth Fairy. Except in this ‘verse, Will decides not to give into Jack and remains with his family, far away from Baltimore. In order to make it up to his former boss, though, Will writes a letter to a certain inmate, suggesting that he offer his services where Will cannot. Of course, it’s not the last letter Will ends up sending to Hannibal. Not by a long shot. And we all know what happens once Will gives Hannibal an inch… (hey, I didn’t mean that kind of inch, you filthy perverts!). Though it starts out as an angsty exploration of Will’s determination to separate himself from Hannibal, somewhere along the way this fantastic fic transforms into a twisted yet adorable romcom, as our murder muffins confront their feelings and try to figure out whether there’s any version of the world in which they might be together. And, frankly, it’s an utter delight to read. One for those (*raises hand*) who like their hurt/comfort 20% hurt and 80% comfort.

Inside the Imitation by @belladonnaq (Belladonna_Q) with artwork by @reapersun: A confession. I’ve never seen The Thing (because I’m a scaredy-cat who doesn’t watch anything that could remotely be described as scary. “But Vic, isn’t Hannibal scary?” Yeah, yeah, I contain multitudes, now hush mango, I’m working). However, I’ve never let ignorance get between me and my Hannigram and so I jumped headfirst into the The Thing/Hannibal crossover which, fortunately, works utterly brilliantly with absolutely zero knowledge of the film. So, once again Jack Crawford finds reason to call upon the services of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter. Except this time, it’s not in order to investigate the Minnesota Shrike, but a strange case with its roots in a decades-old tragedy in Alaska. Soon things turn weird and monstery and Will and Hannibal find themselves reluctantly (well, as ever, Will’s reluctant, Hannibal’s thrilled) investigating a burned-out government building with something truly frightening at its core. This is thrilling, clever and wonderfully creepy, a fantastic reframing of canon (especially the Hannigram) and tons of fun throughout. I have to admit, I did not see the twist coming in this fic (though that’s possibly because I’m a dim bulb when it comes to plot) and it was delivered brilliantly, turning everything on its head and upping the stakes for our beloved murder muffins. Oh, and make sure to check out @reapersun’s fabulous artwork that accompanies the fic, it’s staggeringly gorgeous.

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: Volume 2 by @fragile-teacup: A continuation of the marvellous The Spaces Between series, this picks up a little after volume one, with our boys enjoying Argentinian high society. Unfortunately, while the end of the previous instalment hinted at full-blown murder husbandry, it quickly turns out that Will and Hannibal haven’t quite sorted out their feelings to anyone’s satisfaction (you’re shocked, I can tell). Fortunately, we’re pretty much out of slow burn territory here and the idiots manage to get their act (mostly) together just in time for some ghosts to rear their perfectly-coiffed, millionairess heads and throw a spanner in the works. This sequel continues the achingly lovely tone of its predecessor, with romance a-plenty amongst bouts of emotional idiocy and bloodlust. It’s sweet and tender without compromising on the intensity and darkness of our beloved boys and builds their relationship with care and patience, allowing for a believable building of trust and love between them. It is, in other words, a treat to read in every way, so get yourself to ao3 and have at it!

As ever and always, if I’ve miscredited anyone or if there are bad links, please let me know and I’ll correct it ASAP. Happy reading, lovely fannibals!

#fic rec mega post #hannibal fic rec #hannigram fic rec #spacedogs fic rec #rare pairs fic rec #hannibal #hannigram #spacedogs #rare pairs