#is self taught post-college

[scxvnger]

here's a study of my most recent DnD build: cheeky little fuckwit tiefling lore bard. pls lmk if u want to know more <3

hello friends it's been a minute since I've have art to throw down here, between breaking my laptop, running out of my clip studio license, and injuring my hands at my kitchen day-job. Though I now have a perpetual license, amidst the device change even with CSP's cloud service I have lost every single work I have drawn over the past two years and it's been quite difficult to cope with. Truly feeling like a fanfic author atp

for now I suppose this is first drawing on what I'm optimistically choosing to call a "clean slate" :/

#i also forgot this was fundamentally an art account #and i WILL be posting consistently from here on out #art #personal art #dnd #dnd build #dnd art #tiefling #lore bard #bard #college of lore #digital art #clip studio #clip studio paint #csp #wacom intuos #self taught artist #artists on tumblr

[ikiprian]

Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

#she does end up sending tucker a PC lol #and after she learns he has experience supporting a superhero team maybe pushes his name forward to WEs outreach program for r&d potentials #picks him up by the scruff and says MY coding buddy #also fun fact she had a phd in library science at one point. i like that about her i think we should talk about it a little more #also tucker was making a ghost reporting & tracking app for amity parkers #dpxdc #dcxdp #barbara gordon #tucker foley #prompt #kipwrite

[amourdivine]

𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅? ઉ   PICK A CARD

Hello lovelies, I hope you're having a wonderful week! This is perhaps the first heavily shadow work focused PAC I bring to you. I'm quite nervous to post this, since I know delivering these messages can be difficult and I don't like taking a harsh, judgmental approach. I hope this reading resonates. As always, feedback is highly appreciated! If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo ♡

paid readings are closed as of february 2024

none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!

pick a card masterlist & information

how to choose your pile.  take a few deep breaths for and look at each and of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

୨୧ PILE ONE

who is your shadow self? eight of swords • knight of cups • nine of wands • queen of wands

Your shadow self is the fearful side of you attached to anxiety. The side of you that does not believe you can save yourself from bad situations and feels endlessly hopeless, helpless and trapped. It causes a self-fulfilling prophecy, one where you think you'll inevitably fail, so you self-sabotage (either consciously or not) and end up "proving" yourself right.

However, as helpless as your shadow feels, it never asks for help. It's trapped in a spiral of shame and self-doubt, even self-hatred. All of this happens mentally for most of you, to the point where your body is neglected or stuck in flight / freeze mode. I feel stuck in the gutter, unable to move in the sticky mud. Despite your best efforts to succeed, you may suffer from impostor's syndrome as well, an inability to see your worth, your beauty and your own light. It's almost as if you're scared of your own power, pile one. Very painful, very self-inflicted and something which you may have learn from childhood, maybe you got bullied a lot or were heavily criticized by the people around you. If that happened, I'm so sorry pile one. You deserved so much better. You still do.

how can you work with your shadow self? nine of cups • the sun • queen of swords • queen of wands

You know, when I was entering college, I had a counselor whose words were life changing to me. One day, he picked up a cup full of coffee and asked me: how do you get rid of the coffee, without throwing it out entirely? And I was puzzled. It wasn't possible. Him, in his neverending patience, took me to the water station and started pouring water onto it, until the coffee was cleared away and all that remained was clean, crystal liquid.

Maybe the bad things that happened still haunt you, but they can be drawn out by the good ones. Seek for the light, pile one. Seek the nurturing experiences, the days when you allow yourself to just be, seek the help, the love and stay open to the love. Stay open to the idea that yes, you are worthy, even if you do not feel like it, even if so many people have made you feel otherwise.

These wounds may not fade entirely with time, but you are more than them, always. Always. I know it's never easy to challenge what we've been taught about ourselves, but in order to unlearn all of that, you will have to learn the new things, the true things about you. If they said you were lazy - was that really true? Or were you just tired? You're not "naive", you're pure. You're not "too sensitive", you're in tune with your emotions.

The stories we tell ourselves hold power. What stories are you telling about yourself? Maybe it's time to switch to a new point of view, one where you can rewrite yourself as the person you were never allowed to be.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is your shadow self? judgement • five of swords • ten of cups • king of wands

Your shadow self is the side of you that thrives in chaos - listen, that's not entirely a bad thing, after all, our shadow reflects something which we need to acknowledge, nurture and work with. However, when you perceive danger or feel threatened, you may turn to harsh words or hurtful actions to avenge yourself.

It can manifest in the form of extreme competitive behavior, the inability to rest, overworking, even maybe envy, jealousy and arrogance sometimes. Now, I'm not here to judge or shame you, you're safe here. I think you have and still feel the need to prove yourself to others, to prove them all wrong. Maybe other people told you that you couldn't do it - and you took it all personally, so personally that it crumbles your self-esteem when someone diminishes your efforts or accomplishments.

Your shadow side craves attention, praise and approval. You want to succeed, to be someone you're proud of, to just never feel insecure, diminished or ignored again. You can also turn possessive with loved ones, wondering if they really love you or if they are lying. There's a lot of skepticism here, too.

how can you work with your shadow self? judgement • ace of pentacles • three of pentacles • eight of swords

Acknowledge your feelings and these insecurities. "Fake it 'till you make it" doesn't always work. Being vulnerable is, ironically, also being strong. Understanding your limitations and allowing for other people to collaborate with you (and vice-versa) will take you even further in life.

Your sense of justice is commendable. Make sure you're using it for justice indeed, and not just vengeance. Your ambition can walk hand in hand with your desire to do good, to make space for everyone else to shine, to open up to others, let them see all of you. No one can love perfection - even if they could, what's there to love about something or someone so perfect that they barely feel human?

It's okay to be scared, to feel insecure, to not shove difficult emotions under the rug. We cannot be at our 100% all the time. And we cannot please everyone, all the time. What you can do is praise yourself, let others praise you when they do and accept it gracefully, making sure you're spreading your warmth and wisdom to others as well. See, I think you have overcome a lot and a lot of people could use your help, either in the form of advice, resources or a shoulder to lean on.

You have leadership potential, pile two. Don't limit yourself by being alone. We were never meant to make it on our own.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is your shadow self? ace of wands • page of swords • three of cups • king of pentacles

Your shadow self is someone who may indulge in harmful habits out of a need for instant gratification, maybe reckless spending, speed driving, partying everyday or simply not saving up resources and caring about the future. Your shadow self is someone who hates boredom, who craves excitement and cannot fully deal with long-term commitment in its many forms. It wants novelty, adventure and it comes at the cost of your responsibilities, your routine and your friendships even.

This shadow self hates suffering (fair enough, who doesn't?!) and will to go great lengths to avoid it... but ironically, it causes you more pain in the long run by avoiding the unavoidable. By never crying, never addressing your issues or your difficult moments, you end up running right back into yourself and these same issues return.

This side of you doesn't want to grow up - you don't want to fall into the trap of routine and a boring, 9-5 job. But excessive habits are difficult to maintain, no matter how good it feels in the short term. There's a difficult, troubled perception of adulthood and life itself. A need for constant adventure and chaos, a feeling of entrapment whenever you are with anyone who loves you, because you fear being controlled, tamed and used.

how can you work with your shadow self? the tower • nine of wands • nine of cups • three of pentacles

To put it simply, let yourself hurt. Let the foundations of your heart crumble, stop to feel just for a second. You don't have to be on the run all the time. What are you running from, pile three? Disaster, pain and hurt are often inevitable, but they do not have to be the be-all, end-all of our lives. The Tower is a reminder that all that crumbles was meant to crumble eventually, and there is beauty in letting things end naturally, allowing the flow of life to do its thing.

That means aging, growing, learning from the seasons. I think you have a very, very deep heart and mind you're scared to tap into. You're scared to be trapped in the endless hustle, to never feel alive or good once you "settle". But who says the big joys are the only ones that matter? As someone said once, big joys and small joys are often the same. Sometimes, waking up in itself can be an adventure. Don't overlook or underestimate the ways life tries to find you, to cling to you - remember to embark on the hard journeys, knowing you'll have gotten something valuable in the end.

You're brave and rebellious. You can be a catalyst for change in so many ways. Who said adulthood has to be boring? Who said you have to work a 9-5? Do you have to get married? Maybe being a stay-at-home parent isn't for you. That's okay.

Challenging the status quo may not be easy, but you have a natural inclination for it. Your shadow self can dive deeper. It's one of your greatest tools. Your need for joy and fun is not shameful - you can use it for healing, instead of self-destruction.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is your shadow self? judgment rx • justice • the high priestess rx • knight of swords

Your shadow self is the side of you that refuses to acknowledge your needs, your wants and desires. It makes you live inside of a bubble, scared of the truth, even if it will set you free. I had the hardest time shuffling for this pile, I kept trying and trying but nothing made sense. I think this is how your shadow side manifests as well, in the lack of clarity, the fogginess that permeates the choices you've regretted.

It's both reckless and frozen, completely lost in a maze, confused, looking for a path, for directions, for anything. It's almost as if you lost your compass, nothing eventually guides you and you remain looking for the directions only you have.

It's too scared to admit what it wants, who you are. Both out of fear of what other people will say, but also out of fear that it'll all go wrong. It's the side of you that remains disconnected from yourself, hidden because it keeps highlighting the aspects you keep trying to ignore, to not know. It can manifest in a lot of ways, either through people-pleasing or being completely reckless. Through lying, denial or even isolation from the world, from life itself.

Something funny is that a song by Bad Suns that just started playing really relates to this pile. "Cinderella slips into a dream like a curse / you could mistake it for heaven at first." This shadow self may live in projection, daydreaming or simply keep you out of touch with everything.

how can you work with your shadow self? six of pentacles • page of wands • two of wands • king of cups

Engagement and socializing are big ways you can work with your shadow self. Being actively curious about the world, about people. Approaching relationships, truths and life itself with genuine interest, no judgement or shaming thoughts involved.

Telling yourself you're an eternal student of this world, because we are and remembering you don't have to know everything. Start scared. Most things, you'll have to do it scared. Unprepared. In the thick of it all, you'll find the answers you need, but only if you are willing to dive deep for them. No taking shortcuts, making assumptions or allowing self-doubt to paralyze your living, because you need to witness life as it is.

Therapy is one big thing, music as well. Anything that connects you to your deepest self, relationships that genuinely make room for who you are, good friends that feel safe and non-judgemental. Your heart has been calling you for so long, pile four. It's about time you listen to it. It knows everything you need to know.

disclaimer. tarot not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please remember you are responsible for life and in power of it, no one else! ♡

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

#pick a card #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card reading #tarot #pac reading #astrology #witchblr #tarot witch #pagan #mine.

[olderthannetfic]

Being a trans man and not being an anti is also isolating, which is part of why I think trans guys gravitate towards either being an anti or reposting anti posts. If you're not an anti, you get booted from discord servers, blocked on social media at best or sent misgendering rape threats, death threats and suicide bait by other trans men at worst, and now that I'm in college I've found IRL that not being an anti makes a lot of people in queer spaces available to the average college student incredibly uncomfortable. So you have to either be entirely alone - which is very difficult when you're young, queer, and just coming into your own identity - or you have to be around it a lot without saying a word. Agreeing with it at first wouldn't even be necessary. You just have to not say anything against it, and then you'll be able to be around other people.

It doesn't help that most trans men who get sucked into anti circles are teens at the time. There's 501 proposed anti-LGBT laws right now, not counting everything that has passed, the majority of it anti-trans. If you're a teenage boy seeing all this transphobia on the rise, you're going to feel powerless. Bullying people like antis do makes you feel power over at least a few people. Being told you can consume your way into being a good person via media intake makes you feel like you have power and control over at least that.

I was sucked in incrementally because I wasn't exposed to the more violent antis who fantasized about murder and hurting people for writing fiction, I met my only friend - who was an anti - after my dad had beaten me for coming out as trans, and I was sixteen. I got out when I was eighteen because once I went to live with my mom, a psychologist, she gently corrected me when I would say things that aren't based in fact. She pointed out how upset these people were making me. She taught me how to fact-check claims and look into the veracity of claims.

And when I tried to convey to my friends that no, what they were saying wasn't supported, they turned on me. Including the only person who had been there for me when I was hatecrimed, who had reached out to me specifically because she met me what day. I lost every friend I had in roughly 30 hours.

If I hadn't had a really great mom, a very intelligent rabbi who's well-versed in psychology and is a former lawyer who saw the "fiction made me do it" excuse used to defend heinous crimes and doesn't buy it, and an older half-sister who lived through people calling her a psycho lesbian because she's a lesbian who played D&D, listened to metal and dressed Goth in small-town Montana in the 80's/90's, I would have probably killed myself. Having those three people who accepted me and did not accept this extremist rhetoric kept me sane and repaired my self-esteem enough to keep me going.

But a lot of people don't have three adults who are intelligent, supportive, and know better than to fall for this faux-psychology. A lot of people don't even have one. Often, they have unsupportive people who also believe firmly in the faux-psychology of "if you watch a thing you'll do that thing IRL". So there's not only no one hauling them out of this, it's getting reinforced.

Being a non-anti who is a trans man gets me a lot of shit from a lot of people online and offline. (As other anons have mentioned during the ace discourse, online talking points come up on college campuses and in real life, because the internet is not an alternate dimension, it is something being used by the people around you who exist in the same physical space as you.)

A reality that I don't think people want to discuss is that trans men, just like all other people of all other genders, suffer a lot of psychological distress if they're put in a position where they have no support. I sure as fuck wasn't happy being in a position where I went from having tons of online friends, discord servers I could hang out in and fandoms I associated with good vibes to none of that, plus harassment, plus massive misgendering.

It's a lot less awful of an existence to be a trans man and an anti when you're young and need community and support than it is to not be an anti and be isolated. And humans gravitate towards the least awful option 99% of the time.

--

Yuuup.

Having some kind of real support network, usually offline but at the very least not randos you met a day ago on discord, is vital and is the difference between not only whether you rot in a pit of antidom forever but in stemming the massive flood of trans teen suicides. The overall queer rates aren't great, but the specifically trans rates... they're bad. They're so, so bad.

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

INTRO POST.

Hi, im UNO

I have a lot of names you can call me any version of my username. I’m an adult artist, I’ve been drawing seriously for (checks my awesome lightning McQueen watch) 5 years and animating for about 3! I’m primarily self taught, but am currently taking some college classes. I really like cartoons, games, and anything to do with space or cosmic horror

Please don’t tag my posts as ship art unless I specify it as such

I made that infected design!! Came all the way from my head to My math homework paper. Anywhere else you see a similar design is likely inspired from mine (which is fine, it’s only kinda weird when people start crediting someone else errr…. Don’t like that)

You don’t have to read all this, it’s just some stuff about me ⬇️

I do a lot of things other than regretevator, but since it’s my current hyperfixation it kinda just takes over everything

I have special interests in dead space, alien, the thing, nine inch nails, and pizza tower. I always fall back on those with the same love as usual so don’t be surprised seeing anything like/relating/or just of those

I am diagnosed ADHD, autism too I’m very very very INCREDIBLY INSANELY quiet and awkward with 1 on 1 conversations when I don’t know the person personally, sorry guys I may as well be a brick wall though. I am also generally a very private person

I don’t normally give two fucks about sharing sexuality but I feel it does explain things. I am VERY aromantic and UNBELIEVABLY asexual. Extremely sex repulsed, and I wouldn’t say romance *repulsed* but I am maybe just one step below it. It can get pretty bad and sometimes just ruins my day unfortunately. That’s why I ask people to please never tag my posts as ship art unless I do so!!

^ I am very nitpicky with it, but I do like certain ships to a degree! I enjoy Split and Bive, The Noise and Noisette, and a few others.

My page is welcoming to everyone, except for typical Dni criteria, no proshippers no hate none of that. I just wanna post my art and idk be annoying online 😄

I have never once in my god damn life made an intro post and I have never once wanted to either. HOWEVER, a lot of people have been mixing me up with like 2 other people and I don’t like that and neither do they believe it or not.

I’m hoping that introducing myself at all will help perhaps end that!

[dotster001]

Hello, I think there is a big lack of Crewel content soo could I have some dating/courting hcs of him please? Thank you!

(a lot of this is self indulgent, what I would want from him, because you are right we don't have enough content from this man)

A/N: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

He's a professional. He knows he shouldn't date a student. No matter how hot, or smart, or fun he finds you, he stays professional. He doesn't want it to inadvertently be easier or harder for you to pass his class.

And like a true professional….he waits until your second year at NRC, when you are no longer taking his classes, to start pursuing you. 

He considers himself a smooth individual, but when he gets you a coffee on the first day of class, he's like

"Do you like me? Shoot, I meant do you like coffee? I misspoke."

With visible confusion in your eyes, you tell him you do like coffee, and he shoved the coffee in your hands and left with a muttered, "have a good day puppy"

But he's nothing If not a go getter, so he brushes it off, and brings you a coffee everyday. He has no more slip ups, but he does get nervous you're complacent in your relationship with him. Which is fine but…he likes you a lot. And he's known for being the most hot headed amongst the staff for a reason.

"Be yourself" Trein says in exasperation. "Bet," Divus says.

"I need a new model, for when I'm working during the school year. It used to be Vil, but as you know, his internship took him far away."

"I'm honored, but I wouldn't consider myself conventionally attractive," you said with a self conscious laugh.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, before abruptly smacking his pointer down on the table.

"Bad pup. Clearly I need to teach my new show dog some self confidence."

"But…"

"Be in my office on Saturday." Obviously, he couldn't threaten you to be there, but he could imply a threat in the way he said it.

He does measurements the first week, feeling excited as a school boy from being so close to you. When he measures your waist, he wants to throw away all pretenses and wrap you in his arms. But he has restraint. He can wait.

Soon he's spending hours sewing you outfits he hopes will make you feel beautiful. Part of the problem is, he already sees you as beautiful, so it's hard to tell if any particular outfit will work.

It takes until outfit three. When he puts his hands on your shoulders and maneuvers you to look in the mirror, on the pretense that he wants your opinion on makeup styles, you start staring at yourself in awe.

"I'm beautiful."

"You've always been beautiful," he can't restrain himself as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. You look at him standing behind you, in shock.

"What?"

"I thought I taught you better. Observation is key."

"That's specifically in potions though…"

He's groaning and rolling his eyes.

"How clear do I have to be?"

Things are a little awkward after that. He does your makeup, and you both sit in silence. He uses his thumb to smudge off some excess eyeliner and feels your cheeks burning under his finger. And he can't help the smirk on his face. Your eyes meet his and you are leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

Once you start dating, he continues to bring you coffee everyday, but he also brings you a lot of gifts. Usually something you can wear. His favorite gift he has given you is a crimson choker, with a shimmering medallion. He likes it for normal reasons.

He likes when you sit next to him in his office, after lesson hours. You can work on classwork, and he can work on his grading and paperwork. Personally, he prefers the days you have no homework, because then you can sit on his lap while he does his paperwork, and he can be surrounded by your scent.

You're still his model. He insists that you are exactly what he's looking for in his new fashion line. You're skeptical, at first, because you are vaguely certain  it was all a ploy to ask you out. But lo and behold, he releases the line three months later, and you have to eat your words. (Obviously it's a bestseller. The critics are calling it his most inspired line yet)

You don't live in Ramshackle anymore. He won't stand for it. You live in his penthouse apartment with him and his three dalmatians. Grim can move in with you if that's what you really want 😒 but he can't sleep in the bed with you guys. He'll have to stay in his own room. He's not good at sharing your snuggles, especially with a cat.

He loves to hold you in his arms. Not like a little spoon, but where he is slightly propped up, and you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into it as much as possible, while he wraps his arms around you. If you move, he whines a little. No moving. It's cuddle time!

He likes to take you to fancy expensive restaurants. He dresses you both up so you outshine the stars, then treats you to anything on the menu. He takes you on these date nights once a week.

You share your bed with his three dalmatians. They get attached to you very quickly, and it makes Divus jealous when they snuggle up to you, and shove him out of the bed at night. It's an accident, but he's still very pouty about it. Tbh, having to share a side of the bed is how he found his favorite snuggle position with you.

When he's feeling jealous or self conscious, he gives you one of his coats to wear for the day. He knows they're your friends, but sometimes Ace, Deuce, and even Jack sometimes, get a little handsy. So he'll slip the coat on you, and give you a soft kiss, pretending he was concerned that you might get too cold.

He likes to dress you in the morning. Partially, because he knows what you like to wear, partially because he's a fashion designer, but mostly because….

He buttoned up your shirt, and kissed your collarbone before buttoning the final button.

"You're beautiful…" he whispered.

He wrapped the ribbon that went with the shirt around your waist. He kissed your neck, and swayed from side to side as he whispered in your ear.

"You're radiant…"

He brushed his fingers through your hair in a final touch up of the style he finished for you a moment earlier.

"I adore you."

He doesn't expect much in return from you, romance wise. He knows you're a student, and that you don't have any money to your name, as you don't even belong to this world, so he knows not to expect presents. He knows you're busy, as his fellow faculty is rigorous with homework, and your friends are fools, so he's not expecting extra favors from you. All he wants from you is your eyes on him, and your beautiful voice wishing him a good morning when you wake up next to him

....

Found my tag list! So if you want to be added to a specific fandom/character tag list, let me know!

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @eccedentesiast-sapphic

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #divus crewel x reader #twst divus #twisted wonderland divus #divus crewel #twst crewel #crewel x reader #professor crewel #divus x reader

[ursa-the-stranger]

Op had to restrict replies but I wanted to reblog so heres a copy paste of it sans op's name. I will take this down if they ask however.

I have been noodling over posting this for several days but I think it's important for some people to hear.

At a March on Saturday, at a pro Palestine march, my group and I were targeted by by nazis. Not targeted for violence, but targeted for recruitment. They weren't wearing swastikas, they weren't spewing blatant antisemitic hate speech. They seemed like two normal dudes. They marched with us, talked about how awful everything in Palestine was, how we wished world leaders would grow a pair and hold Israel responsible for fucking war crimes, how existing in the world right now was hard. They were empathetic, they were kind, they seemed like genuine good dudes.

Until we passed a synagogue where people were handing our water to marchers. They had signs defending Palestine on their table. But the tone of the conversation changed. These two seemingly normal dudes started talking about how "performative" the gesture felt, that Jewish people should be doing more. That they needed to PROVE it. They started talking about "Zionist" propaganda in the US, about how it was deeply entrenched in capitalism. Things that, on the surface, seemed reasonable but it set off alarm bells in my head.

When I was a kid, I remember getting the speech of "don't repeat anything your uncle or cousin so and so says and don't argue with them. Try to avoid them but if you can't be polite." Because those uncles and cousins said a lot of hateful things about anyone who wasn't like them, but their favorite targets were black people and Jewish people. I would find out as an adult it was because many of those uncles and cousins were in the Klan. When I studied hate symbols for a class in college, I found my self looking at images I'd seen on arms and necks and hands my whole life, because I live in an area of the US where the KKK is still around. And standing in that crowd, listening to these guys talk, i had the most horrible realization I've had in a long time.

We were being fished by Nazis. We were a group of able body, white American leftists. At a march in support of stopping the murder and genocide of Palestinians, these motherfuckers were out here, trying to find people they could get to hate Jewish folks. I wasn't the only one in my group who clocked it, and when we called them on it, the masks came off. They called us a bunch of "Jew loving bitches" before they moved on.

But we're marched with these guys for a couple hours, talked with them, laughed with them, brought them into our circle. For a moment we forgot we also weren't immune to propaganda, we weren't immune to people who make hate sound reasonable and that people like that never start out saying the quiet part out loud, they lean on your anger and your sense of helplessness to move you where they want you. If the last eight years has taught us anything, it's that fascists know how to adjust to the times, to work with what they got, to recruit. They know how to radicalize people, how to weaponize anger and helplessness. And I'm sitting here, every day, seeing posts that sound exactly like these guys did and it worries me.

I know I'm talking to the No Reading Comprehension Website, but I'm begging you guys to develop some now.

You are not immune to propaganda. We are all angry, as we fucking should be. We are watching an entire culture, thousands of lives, whole bloodlines, being wiped out in real time, and for many of us our nations are at best, wringing their hands, and at worst, shipping them weapons, all to protect capitalist greed. It's monstrous, it's disgusting. But look, REALLY LOOK, at the things you are tweeting, sharing, look at the language and how it's used. Take the time to educate yourself about how hate groups use social justice causes and civil unrest to recruit, research the posts your spreading, check your sources. If you are out protesting, be situationally aware, and do not be afraid to clock and call out Nazis. Listen to Jewish people, listen to their concerns, educate yourself on what Zionism and antisemitism actually are and how they can be weaponized. It doesn't feel as good as rage, it doesn't feel as good as having a group you can functionally rail against in a way we can't against a nation a world away, but it's a skill that's going to help you and a lot of other people in the long run.

#keep your wits about you. hold love for the best of people and the worst of people in your heart. always search for the facts for yourself

[blossom-works]

Colliding Worlds

Request (anon): Can you do one with yn being in love with Kylian but he just want to have fun and do not think about love right now and just want to sleep with yn but she doesn’t want that because she knows he is playing with her and then he falls in love with her but it was to late she already found someone who respects her and loves her.

---

Since you were a little girl, you have always wanted to find your prince charming. Watching the Disney princesses on the screen made you want to fall in love just like they did. You want to experience the unconditional love those princesses have, and you thought you found it. The unconditional love and your prince charming. You want a pure love that can grow and last without the sexual part of a relationship. Growing up, you were taught that sex should be something you do after you get married. A martial act.

You never really understood why until you started growing up. You saw how your high school friends would plan their weekends to get laid with whomever. You saw how in college, people still follow the same behavior. No strings attached. Just some fun for a night and then they are on their way. You did not and do not want to be like your friends. You want your first time and your all to be with the man who promises to cherish you for the rest of their life. You want it to be special with your special someone, whoever that may be.

You thought that your special someone would be Kylian. How you met is a blur, but everything that came after it might as well be a Disney love story on its own. Kylian was a complete gentleman. He would ask how your day is and ask about your weekly plans if he could. He opened doors and pushed out chairs for you. Kylian complimented you when you thought he did not need to or when you thought it was just for show. He pointed out your charismatic personality and your kind nature.

Kylian made you feel special and you thought you should do the same. You stopped talking to guys who tried to get you to go out with them. You wanted Kylian to know that your eyes are on him only. You would ask Kylian if he wanted you to cook something for him or do small tasks to make his life a little easier. You wanted Kylian to feel as if he found his Cinderella, his princess.

The dates you guys went on were a dream. Of course, Kylian would use those times to show off his status. You expected nothing less but told him that a trip to the grocery store or the park was more than enough for you. It was about three months into getting to know each other that you saw your relationship with Kylian declining.

When the two of you were alone Kylian would try to coerce you into bed. Not in a bad way but in an "I want you" way. As much as you wanted to listen to your needs, you made a promise to yourself. You would tell Kylian "Maybe some other time" and try to release the sexual tension through non-sexual means. You felt bad because you saw how frustrated and disappointed Kylian would get. When he eventually asked you why you kept rejecting him, you told him about your self-promise. After that, Kylian stopped trying to sleep with you. In fact, he kind of almost cuts you off.

Daily texts and calls went down to weekly texts and calls - if that. No more dates are planned. No "I want to see you again" is thrown your way. You thought that you did something wrong and even asked Kylian if you did. He told you that you did not and that he was just busy. You believed it because he is freaking Kylian Mbappe. The man's schedule is almost always booked in advance. You did not want to be a nuisance so you waited for Kylian to make the first move. That way you know for sure he has some downtime, no matter how little.

It was not until you saw a post written about Kylian and a woman on an apparent date. It breaks your heart when you see it. You want to stay rational and not jump to any conclusions so you think about it for a while. Maybe the woman is a family friend or even a family member and they are just hanging out...but he would have told you, right? No, what are you saying? The two of you are not even dating so he does not need you to know about his whereabouts and he does not need to know about yours.

But still, it would have been nice to receive a heads up. The day after you first saw the post, you sent a text to Kylian. You did not want to jump the gun so you ask if he has any free time for a date. You want to cry when you see the message, "Sorry, I'm taking Missy on a date that day. Maybe some other time."

Who the hell is this Missy chick? Trying to give Kylian the benefit of the doubt, you ask about her. Apparently, they met at a party and hit it off. Despite your cracking heart, you want to know more about their relationship. Then Kylian asks why you are asking so many questions about him and Missy.

"I thought that we were dating. Not dating-dating but on the way there." You text him, and what Kylian texts back is absolutley gutwrenching.

"I'm sorry but I don't do relationships right now. I'm too busy to commit. You're a lovely woman, really. I mean that from the bottom of my heart but I'm just looking for some fun. When you told me that you didn't want to have sex until marriage, I thought that I should move on. I was under the impression that you understood, I should've clarified. Sorry."

You did not shoot Kylian a text back. Plus, your teary eyes and shaking hands would not allow you to. Wanting to save the last ruminants of your dignity, you deleted all text exchanged between you and Kylian and his number. Laying on your bed, you let your tears fall onto your pillow and think of what could have been.

It takes you about two months to come to terms with Kylian. Granted, you were not in a relationship but you did really like him. Maybe even love, but you will never know for sure. It takes you about six months to find someone else. A man named Dereck who you met in the small city of Edinburgh. A charming Englishman he is. The both of you love to poke fun at each other and explore your surroundings.

For the nth time in the past months, Kylian has been relentlessly cutting off women and he has no idea why. Having a lot of things is something that is normal in Kylian's life. He knows that the women he surrounds himself with know that Kylian asks for the bare minimum. Like any man, Kylian wants to have a meal prepared for him before going to training or even coming back from. He wants a relatively clean home, and he deeply yearns for a woman he can connect with on a non-sexual, intimate level.

Then that is when it hits him, Kylian had that woman. You. You were the woman Kylian was looking for. A woman who was (is) not afraid to stick to traditional roles and whose beliefs surrounded it. You treated Kylian like a man, not a resource. Dammit, what the actual hell was Kylian thinking when he cut you off? He quickly scrolls through his seemingly endless list of contacts before he spots your name. Kylian anxiously thinks about what he should send. A "Hey, how are you?" should suffice? No, not when Kylian dropped that bomb on you. "I miss you"? No, too strong and out of nowhere. Between the two options, Kylian chooses the former. It is more neutral and it does not make him sound so desperate.

Lucky for him, you responded but with a "Who's this?" That means that you deleted Kylian's number. It hurts but he cannot blame you. Especially with how things ended between the two of you. After Kylian reintroduces himself via text, you two exchange a couple of messages. It does not take a rocket scientist to know that you are keeping your answers short and sweet. You do not go into any details and you keep your questions mundane.

After a couple of days of exchanging texts, Kylian asks you if you want to hang out together. There is a reason you kept your responses short and replied to Kylian no earlier than ten minutes. It is because you already have someone - Derek. The best man a woman can ever ask for. If you thought that Kylian treated you like a princess before, Derek treats you like the crown princess who is about to take her throne.

You formulate a carefully written and straight-to-the-point message: "I'm sorry Kylian, but I have a boyfriend. I'm happy with him and I dare say that I'm starting to love him. I thought my responses would give you a hint but it looks like I need to be straight with you. I'm not saying these things out of spite. In fact, I forgive you Kylian. I forgave you a while ago. Let's leave the past in the past and move on, okay?"

When you send that text, you put your phone on "Do Not Disturb" mode and just sit in the small restaurant, thinking about what just happened. The you from a couple of months ago would have jumped at the opportunity, but then what about Derek? Sure, compared to Kylian who is the prince charming, Derek is a viscount or even a baron. But you like - love him. You love that Derek is a prince charming in his own form, reading to sweep his princess off her feet.

You made the right choice. A characteristic of a princess is that she is loyal to the man who will provide for her and protect her. Speaking of, your prince charming comes in, shaking the snow off his head and coat.

In his English accent he says, "There's my pretty girl. Has the diner been keeping you warm? Do you need my coat?" Derek does not wait for your reply as he is already taking his outermost layer off and draping it over your shoulders, and pulls away after kissing your head. The cold air had reddened his nose and cheeks, adding more charm to the already charming man.

You take Derek's hand and hold it on the surface of the table. Compared to yours, his hands are ice cold but his presence gives you warmth. His coat smells like him, wood and spices. Derek is not Kylian Mbappe and that is alright with you. You found a man who will cherish you to bits and hopefully love you to the end of the earth. You only hope that Kylian can learn how to cherish a woman properly, and hope that she will cherish him properly.

#x reader #fanfiction #football #kylian x reader #mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #football imagine #soccer #angst but not really angst

[colleendoran]

An answer

I'm not going to post the question because I don't want the person who asked it to get piled on.

The magical art fairy did not give me a great and grand education that my mommy and daddy paid for.

My parents were poor and at one point homeless. They lived in a pigeon coop. With pigeons.

I was not super popular in school. I was a nerd in the dark days before being a nerd was something people aspired to. I had braces, glasses, bad acne and was a bit chubby. When I no longer had any of these things (well, I still wear glasses, I prefer them to contacts,) people acted like I always looked that way and sailed the seas of success on a wave of appearance advantages.

My parents did not pay for my education. I went to regular school like everyone else. I had one year of college which I attended on academic scholarship, and I majored in business. I had an art class with a professor who almost never showed up. When the scholarship money ran out after one year, I left.

After I'd been a professional artist for more than twenty years, I took an online digital art class at one of those for profit art schools, which was quite a trick on dial up speed, I must say. Shortly after, I realized it was a scam, I contacted the administration to demand my money back. I got it. The school was eventually sued into oblivion and went out of business.

I did manual field labor as a kid, worked in a veterinarian hospital, parked cars, and ran a roller coaster. I picked up dog poop and did volunteer work at the U.S.O. and the AIDS Housing and Education Fund. I worked as a condo association attendant.

I don't know where people get the impression that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. And it's not like I don't have some advantages. But money and status weren't among them.

Most of the people in comics from my generation come from poverty. Some didn't. But most did.

I am self taught and most of what I learned was from the Famous Artist Course books my mom got as a kid. I was very grateful that my dad invested in a set of encyclopedias for the family when we were still quite poor. I devoured them.

I started sending out portfolio work, story ideas, and resumes at age 12. My first rejection letter was from Random House. I got my first advertising gig when I was about 14-15. The woman who hired me was Linda Wesley Salake.

I met artist Frank Kelly Freas at a science fiction convention I found out about from an advertisement. He was very kind and mentored me. He didn't teach me much about art, but he did teach me a lot about the realities of the art centered life.

I cooked and cleaned house for him after his wife Polly died.

My average income for my first ten years as a professional artist was less than $10,000. And for part of that time, I was not living with my parents. So I supported myself on less than $10,000.

Eventually, I lasted long enough in the arts that I started making some money. Then things got worse. Then they got better. Then they got worse. Then they got better.

Advantages, contacts, ability - none of that is distributed equally. But if you can, make art because it is something that means something to you, and it gives you joy.

And we all deserve some joy.

If it was just about the money, I'd have ditched this bug bin long ago.

That's all.

#comics #art #art centered life

[nerdyjournals]

Flowers have sad meanings too

Florist!Y/N

Many believe that working in a flower shop is all gumdrops and rainbows, but it's not. It's stories of heartbreak and sadness. I wish I could remember their names, but I can't grieve every one of them. No matter how hard I try.

Author's Note: 3/8 of these mini tales are based on encounters I have had while working in my field. They are INSPIRED and not exact.

DISCLAIMER: ANY SIMILARITIES THESE ENTRIES HAVE TO A PERSON, PLACE, EVENT, OR SITUATION IS COINCIDENTAL AND NOT INTENDED TO MIMIC ANYONE.

WARNING: THIS PIECE TOUCHES ON DEATH AND ITS AFFECTS, SUBJECTS OF DEPRESSION, AND ASSUMED SU1C1D3. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SUBJECTS LIKE THESE, PLEASE SKIP THIS POST.

Boy #1

He was a boy with his whole life ahead of him. His mother said that he was very protective of his siblings, so protective that it's what took him.

She said it was a break in, one that happened in the dead of night. She never heard it. All she heard was the sound of her daughter screaming for help as her husband tackled the man to the floor. She didn't even hear the gun go off.

He was on his way to college in the fall, full ride. He was very talented. They hope to release his works down the road, but for now, some things stay locked away. Not because they're bad or sad, but because the grief was too fresh.

Boy #2

He was an interesting story. A quiet kid that everyone thought was mean, but was a very sweet guy and an only child. He loved animals.

His flowers were ordered by his friends because his parents were too shattered by the news. One of them couldn't keep it together, ended up telling about him. He was off volunteering to help build houses when one of them collapsed on top of him and a few others. They came out with minor injuries, but he wasn't so lucky. They spew out so many things about his kind heart but stone-like demeanor. It hurt to see that it was also his undoing.

Other families came and ordered, many of them being young kids in the dance classes he taught. Many of the kids still not understanding why their favorite teacher wasn't coming back. His parents finally arrived to order, but my heart was too fragile to be there.

Boy #3

His sister wouldn't stop talking about how he had wanted to do a lot with his life. She said that he was going to the gym everyday to get stronger. He was a gentle soul, a loving gentleman. Sickness took him far too soon.

It started off with a bad cough and a fever, she said. Then it just kept getting worse. By the time he was eighteen, he was fully living in his hospital room. It broke her heart to see how he dwindled away until he was almost nothing but skin and bones. She was thankful that he went in his sleep, going painlessly.

She couldn't stop repeating that she felt like a bad sister, that she should've done more to help him recover. It broke me a little more on the inside when I couldn't tell her that it wasn't up to her to fix him. I could only stay silent.

Boy #4

Only one person ordered him flowers, but it was a lot of flowers. Other than his parents, this boy received flowers from dozens of people. Friends, teachers, acquaintances - you name it. They all ordered through one person as they were the only one in town.

The pieces were extravagant, ranging from small vases to large sprays. They said that they wanted to reflect him; an artist surrounded by colors. No one knows what took him; whether self or sickness. They just found him in his studio one cold winter morning, slumped over an unfinished painting.

They said he'll have a gallery set up after the service, show off the wonders he created. I might go. If not just to see a fellow tortured soul. One day, his name will be known alongside the greats. For now, he'll be known to me.

Boy #5

His flowers were ordered over the phone by his mother, said something about it becoming too final if she stepped into the store.

I heard about this boy on the news. They found him in his car, just off the highway. He was so young, but the demons got to him before anyone else could.

I could only sit silent as she cried in my ear, blaming herself for not helping him. Little does she know the demons live in everyone. Including mine.

Boy #6

This boy was proof that the brightest smiles hide the darkest demons. His sisters couldn't hold themselves together as I flipped through the binder. The older one said that she blamed herself, saying that she should've seen the signs.

He went as he slept, passing in silence. She said that he had been bullied for years, but since he stopped talking about it, they assumed it stopped. They found him gone in the morning. I can never understand how some people find it acceptable to be so harsh to another.

They showed me his photo. He had a bright smile, one that was even wider with his family. It almost breaks my very soul that he suffered alone.

Boy #7

This was my first family order. The poor family was lost due to a faulty monoxide detector. The remaining members were in the middle of suing the landlord on top of mourning the family.

They didn't know until the son failed to show up for school for three days, unlike him they said. Same for the parents.

The boy was said to start high school next year. They were all excited since he would be attending the private school near the edge of town, one that was hard to get into without good grades. Now, the world could never see what he would amount to.

Boy #8

He was a child.

No mother should ever be allowed to outlive her baby. He was innocent, a victim of medical circumstance. They never said what he had, but they ordered him a beautiful urn display.

His younger brother, one still so small, would almost never know about the brother who left too early. His older brother was deployed, but is in an emergency flight back over to give his good byes.

A child...goodness.

#kpop fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz imagines #skz au #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids texts #stray kids text imagines #skz angst

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Aphelion - 11

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: language, discussion of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death, mention of self-harm, NSFW, vampirism, biting

Word Count: 16,754

Summary: Oberyn has already told you that it's been 400 years since he last used his mark of protection on someone that he cared about, but when you learn why he stopped using it - and how that decision has shaped his life since then - it sheds new light on what it means that he used it on you. And so does what happens after he shares this with you.

The plan for dealing with the Lannisters is in place, and preparations continue throughout the week - until Toban and Tyene surprise you with something unexpected but extremely welcome.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM @something-tofightfor & I! We hope that your spooky season is full of fun, treats, and just the right amount of scares. We also hope that you all enjoy this mega-packed chapter! This story continues to be so much fun for us to work on, and we're both really excited about this update and what's still to come. Thank you from the bottoms of our hearts to everyone who has interacted with this story - your comments and reactions make us very happy ghouls.

Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!

(banner by @valkblue )

It took him more than a few seconds to gather his thoughts, but Oberyn’s hold on you never wavered. You stared out and over the city, the lights glittering in the distance, and you let yourself think again about everything that had happened in the previous hours. No, not just hours … days. 

But unlike Oberyn, you didn’t think silently. 

“I’m not sure if you know this, but …” Closing your eyes, you took a long breath. “If it wasn’t for Golden Lion and my job, I’d probably be in some shitty little apartment in the Midwest right now.” He hummed in response but didn’t speak, one of his hands moving slowly back and forth over your stomach. “I knew what I wanted to do with my life when I was a teenager, but I never really thought that I’d get hired by a company like theirs right out of college.” 

“They did something right, at least.” You snorted at his words, his irritation barely masked by amusement. “Was Golden Lion the first place you’ve worked?” 

“It was my first full time adult job, yeah. I did an internship with them my senior year of college and I guess they were impressed, but …” You shrugged. “They had more than 100 candidates apply for three open positions so I figured I’d get a “thanks but no thanks” letter after a few weeks and started applying to museums and historical programs in places like Michigan and Illinois and Ohio. But instead … I got a job offer with a relocation assistance stipend.” 

It had been one of the best days of your life, and even though you’d learned that Golden Lion - and the Lannisters especially - weren’t the people you’d thought they were, your time at the company had been worthwhile. It taught me so much and it brought me here. 

“They do have a knack for recruiting people with talent.” He sighed, lowering his lips to your shoulder again. “It is an annoying thing that has been true since … well, since the beginning.” 

You felt him smiling and you did, too, still staring out into the darkness. “I had a choice between working in New York, London, one of the Westeros office locations, or here.”

“And you chose California.” He kissed the side of your neck, breathing the next words into your ear. “The City of Angels.” You rolled your eyes every time Los Angeles was referred to that way, but when Oberyn said it, it had the opposite effect on you. I am a walking cliche when it comes to him. 

“I did. Westeros was tempting, just because of everything it would have allowed me to see, but I decided it was too far away for something that I didn’t know if I’d get to do for long. In London I would have been in a really small office and that wasn’t appealing. New York was …” You wrinkled your nose, even though he couldn’t see it. Never New York. “But California? I figured that even if the job didn’t work out, I’d have the beach. And then I met Nora and her friends and it turned out I really liked what I did for work - and most of my coworkers.” You spun to face him, finding that you were blinking back tears. 

You knew it was selfish - that after everything the Lannisters had done to the Martells and to the people Oberyn loved, you had no right to be so upset over something as trivial as your job. But it was important to me. It was a huge part of my life. Everything I worked for. 

“And I think that’s what the worst part of this is. Even though there were always ulterior motives to what they had me doing, it was … I liked it. I liked working for Golden Lion. I learned so much. I met so many people and worked on so many great projects, and …” You glanced up, lips pressed together. “And then I met you, and I realized that I knew so damn much, but I really knew nothing, even after all this time.” 

“Meeting me was the worst part?” He was teasing you, but when you met his eyes you saw concern in them, Oberyn barely concealing a frown as he watched you. “I don’t think that anyone has ever been so bold as to -” That made you laugh, both of your hands coming up to cover your face and wipe some of the tears away. 

“Yes, Oberyn. The worst. I meet an unreasonably hot man that just so happens to be the literal embodiment of every fantasy I’ve ever had in my entire life at a bar. Then two weeks later I’m standing with him on the balcony of a penthouse apartment so fucking nice that I have no business being anywhere near it. Oh, and I’m also wearing a mark of protection from him on my neck that means that he chose me, and -” 

Oberyn moved before you’d even registered it, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight against his chest, face turned down so that he could kiss the top of your head. “I do see how that might be terrible.” Inhaling deeply, you let yourself cry for a few seconds, Oberyn’s arms locked in place. “But you need to look at me.” 

You did, pulling back enough so that you could meet his gaze. The playfulness was still there, but Oberyn’s mood had shifted again, the man mostly serious. “What?” 

“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing the truth. Not many people do. Even those that are like me aren’t … they do not all come from Westeros, or have the same vendettas that we do. And even I have to admit, the things that the Lannisters have done to remain relevant throughout the years … it is impressive. It is even more impressive because like I said, they attract talented people, which means their relevancy lasts.” 

“Yeah, but it’s just … a cover. They used people like me to try and find you, Oberyn. You and your family, and -”

“But think about it.” He loosened his grip on you, taking a half step back and urging you to back up and against the low railing. “How much did you learn? How much did you archive? How much will the records you created teach others? Yes, the end goal was for Lannister benefit, but overall, you’ve done more good for Westeros than you know.” He reached up, fingers curling against your neck so that he could press his thumb to the mark he’d put there. It sent a tingle of heat through you, your lips parting and feet shuffling toward him, both hands rising so that you could grip his shirt. “You know now. And if… when this goes according to plan, I’m sure Tyrion will have no problem getting you back to your position, if that’s what you want. This plan will make him mortal, but getting rid of the rest of the Lannisters puts him at the head of the company by name and lineage, and I do not think that he will mind doing a small favor for me.” 

You hadn’t even thought of that - of the possibility that after everything was done, you could go back. But I’ll need to work. I don’t have thousands of years worth of finances saved somewhere, and I can’t pay my rent here without a job. “We’ll see. We need to get through the next …. When is the wedding again?” 

“The engagement party is next weekend. The wedding follows soon after. They are apparently following the Westerosi custom of the party being used as a lead-in to the main event, but that works in our favor.” 

“Yeah, there’s so much going on no one can have eyes everywhere.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Thank you for talking me down, Oberyn. I’m sorry I -”

“You never need to apologize to me.” He said your name, the man’s thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up so that you could see his wink. “For anything. I understand what you are going through, and I understand how much your life has changed.” Flattening your hands against his belly, you nodded and then took a deep breath. 

“If you say so. But I need to stop getting sidetracked. We have a lot to talk about and -” You were interrupted by the rumble of your stomach, Oberyn’s eyes immediately dropping at the sound. Shit. Of course he can hear that, he -

“When was the last time you ate?” He tweaked your chin, his smile widening. “It sounds like it’s been a while.” 

“I had some fruit while we talked to Tyrion, but it’s been … hours? Lunch, maybe? I don’t…remember.” You trailed off, frowning. Since the night of the Halloween party, your dining habits had been less than regular. The fact that no one in your company  ate at typical times wasn’t helping, either. “I should have something, though. Or else I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” 

“Stay here.” He nodded twice. “I’ll get you something and then… I’ll tell you about Cameron and Toban.” 

He disappeared back into the apartment, the door closing softly behind him. Once he was gone, you turned back to the railing, gripping it with both hands. You’d wasted time complaining about your job, but not too much, and you knew that even though it was late, there were still hours before sunrise. And he’ll want to stay out here as long as possible. 

Your head swirled with bits of information - what you knew about the Lannisters and the Martells, what you knew about Oberyn and Ellaria’s bond, the vow that Oberyn had made to himself the moment he’d been turned and learned what happened when someone turned others. And you knew that no matter how much time you had to understand it, it would never be enough. Unless that eternity that Toban mentioned is possible. That might be … 

Swiping one hand over your face, you hung your head, opening your eyes so that you could watch the cars on the street far below you. Tyene had offered to change you if you wanted it. Toban’s willingness to step in when necessary had already been tested, but you had a feeling that if he attempted the same thing a second time, even Ellaria’s interference wouldn’t protect him from Oberyn. But I don’t want either of those options. If it’s not Oberyn… it’s no one. 

Linking your fingers together, you stared out and over the city, weight resting on your forearms. Four hundred years is a long time, even for him. And it sounds like Cameron was incredibly important to him but he still wouldn’t … he didn’t even use his mark, he … “It’s late, so I figured you didn’t want anything heavy.” 

Turning at the sound of his voice, you watched as he held up a plate with one hand, a bottle of water held in his curled fingers and a stainless steel bottle tucked under his other arm. “A sandwich? Did you make this? Or was it -”

“I might have been a prince in a past life, and not need to eat in this one, but I know my way around a kitchen.” He grinned as he set everything down on the small table before unfolding the blanket laying atop the outdoor couch. “Come here.” 

You did, stepping in front of him - and when Oberyn draped the material over your shoulders, he used the ends of the blanket to pull you closer, ducking his head down to press a kiss to your lips. That kiss was longer than the last one on the rooftop, but he still broke it much too quickly, stepping back and gesturing for you to sit. “Thank you for … dinner? A midnight snack? Whatever this is, I’m going to inhale it.” 

“Good.” He sat next to you, rolling the container he held between both of his hands. “I hope it is alright with you if I … also eat.” Your eyes flicked from the sandwich in your hand to the bottle in his, both brows shooting up in understanding. Blood. There’s blood in there, and he didn’t want me to see it while he drank. 

“Of course. Eat.” You took a bite, chewing to give yourself a few extra seconds before speaking again. “Oberyn, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I understand what … you are, and what you need.” Elbowing him, you turned your head to look at the man. “And I’ve already seen you at your worst with Clegane, right? So it -”

“That wasn’t anywhere near my worst.” Flipping the straw up on his bottle, Oberyn sipped from it, staring straight ahead. “But yes, you have briefly seen the worst parts of me.” Your stomach dropped at his words, but part of you wasn’t surprised. He’s been alive for 2,000 years, and he thinks… Oh, Oberyn. “I know that you are expecting to hear about Cameron. But to tell you about Cameron, I need to go back much further.” He sipped again, eyes closing as he swallowed. “To Isabel. To before Isabel. I need to tell you why I stopped offering my protection to the humans I cared for.” 

His voice changed as he spoke the woman’s name, and it only took moments for you to figure out who she was. But instead of interrupting, you continued to eat your sandwich, scooting marginally closer to him while you chewed. It took a few seconds, but Oberyn laid an arm over your shoulders, his fingers closing around the far one and squeezing. I’m listening, Oberyn. 

“When Ellaria turned me, I knew that I wouldn’t get my revenge right away. I knew that it could take time, but I never thought … I never thought thousands of years would pass.” He paused, head shaking from side to side slowly. “The longer I waited, the more I needed to do to fill my days. By the time I was given the sunlight again, Ellaria and I were far from Westeros. My immediate relatives were long gone, and there was no sign of the right Lannisters. She took me to Greece and within a year I… we met someone.” 

You weren’t surprised - Oberyn’s magnetism had been well documented in all of the ancient texts that you’d seen, and you imagined that given the opportunity to meet new people in new places, it hadn’t been any different. 

“But it was short lived, because… I wasn’t careful enough. Her association with Ellaria and I put a target on her head, and she was … she was killed because of it. She was killed and we had to leave, and it was only then that Ellaria explained the process of marking someone for safety.”

“Oh, Oberyn.” Wincing, you reached over and squeezed his knee. “I’m so sorry.” He lost someone else, almost right away. I can’t… 

“I was too. And from there …” He laughed, but the sound was sad. “From there, I admit that I treated offering my mark in the same way I lived as a man - in excess. Even Ellaria questioned me at times, but it was the way I coped. I could not have the revenge I wanted, and losing more people that I cared about was not an option. So for a few hundred years, I … marked my partners. I kept them close without thinking twice, but I never hesitated to step away from them when it became clear that Cersei and Tywin and the fucking Mountain were back, or when they demanded too much of me.” 

“Oberyn, I …” You didn’t know what else to say - especially since up until that conversation, you’d assumed he’d always been selective about who he offered protection to. But I was wrong. 

“Many of them asked to become like me, and I denied all of them - most of them without explanation.” He took another drink, pausing before he set the bottle down on the table. “Losing them of natural causes became almost routine for me. Eight. Ten. Twelve. It was not easy to say goodbye, but I was not heartbroken in the same way I was when the first was taken. Finally, Ellaria pulled me aside, and she let me know what she thought.” 

“What did she think?” Curling your legs beneath you, you leaned against Oberyn’s side. “It doesn’t seem like she would have said anything unless she felt strongly about it.”

“You are correct.” Glancing up, you saw that he was smiling - that expression a fonder one. “She told me that the mark was meant to be a symbol of honor, and an indication that the person who wore it was special. She said she’d never try to tell me how to live my second life, but that unless I used that ability with some discretion, it was … meaningless. That in our community, the mark had come to symbolize intent, and I was treating it like giving someone a worthless trinket. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way.” 

“Were you two together all that time? I know that Makers don’t always stay with their Children, but you and Ellaria are … different.” 

“No. She stayed with me for a long time, but once she was certain I would be alright on my own, we separated. We’d see each other … well, to us, it was frequently, but to you, it probably isn’t.” He started moving his hand up and down on your arm, Oberyn shifting so that you could move even closer. “She made a special trip to tell me what she thought about me using my mark, though. And afterward … I slowed down. I slowed down and I realized that there was no point in protecting people in that way. It  was only for my benefit. It didn’t offer them anything in the end.”

Unconsciously, you reached up, touching the space on your neck that bore his sigil. Something changed again. Ellaria and Tyene and Toban’s reactions were real. This isn’t just a mark, it’s… more. 

“It’s not possible for me to be emotionless; I’m sure you know that. But I … stopped letting myself get so attached. I stopped settling in places long term. I kept moving. I focused on my eventual revenge instead of on immediate pleasure, and instead of one or two people a century wearing my mark and knowing what I was, more and more time passed between each one. I kept my own secret, and didn’t linger long enough for people to start asking questions.” 

“You must have been lonely.” Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes. “Even with Ellaria and the Others that you came into contact with, it must have been so hard.” 

“It was. But it got easier each year. The difficult part came when the questions about me making a Child started coming, and I had to explain my reasoning for not turning anyone.” 

“That’s nobody’s business, though.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s like people questioning why someone like me isn’t trying to have a baby, or hinting that time is running out, or making the assumption that you can’t be happy unless you’re a parent. That’s a personal choice, Oberyn, and even though I’m kind of relieved to know it isn’t just humans who think that’s their business, it’s still awful of them to question you like that.” 

“The thing is, that my reason for not turning anyone is … hypothetical. Yes, most of us pass our strongest traits on when we change someone, but it isn’t set in stone that it happens.” He removed his arm from around you and then leaned forward, picking up the thermos  again and taking a long pull from it. You caught a whiff of copper, biting your lip at the scent, but before you could say anything, he continued. “Even Ellaria started to hint that there would be nothing wrong with me changing someone and potentially passing something along, but she never pushed. And after those conversations - after seeing her and Toban and meeting others like us and their first Children, I began to see the appeal… and I started using my mark again. Sparingly, but … just in case. Just to let everyone know that someone was off limits.” 

“But you never acted.” He flipped the straw down and let the bottle go, leaning back. “Even though you were close.” 

“I was.” He sighed. “Sort of.” Without warning, Oberyn pulled you onto his lap, strong arms holding you against his chest though you were still wrapped in the blanket. “I met Isabel while I waited for Ellaria to arrive for a visit, and there was … something about her. A connection between us that was immediate. I fell for her and offered her my protection. She accepted, and asked if … if it was possible that we could be together forever.” 

“You considered it.” You looked up at him, watching as Oberyn nodded slowly. “Because if Ellaria thought you were going to choose between Tyene and Isabel, you must have been much closer than before.” 

“I was.” He met your gaze then, the line between his brows deep as he frowned. “But I made the mistake of telling her that it was in fact a possibility, and she … assumed.” Oh, no. “And with that assumption, our relationship changed. I loved her. The idea of … forever with her was not unappealing, but …” 

“She thought a maybe was a definitely.” He nodded again and then winced when he looked away, like he was remembering actually living the experience. “Did she know about your past? About the Lannisters and your family?” 

“She did. And at first, she told me that she understood my need for vengeance, even though she hadn’t ever seen or heard of the Lannisters before me. But as more time passed, I think … it became clear to her just how focused on that goal I was. I spent as much time with her as I could, but I was also with Ellaria and Tyene, making plans. It had been a long time since Cersei and Tywin had shown their faces so we thought it was probably coming. And when I reminded Isabel that there was a chance that I would turn her and our time together would be short because I did what needed to be done and did not survive, she …” 

He lifted a hand a rubbed slowly at his jaw, still staring out at the city. You’d thought that Oberyn’s reasons for not turning the woman had been simple, but the previous few minutes had proven otherwise. And I think it’s going to get worse. 

“She did not take it well. She said that Ellaria encouraging my revenge quest for over a thousand years was not a good idea. She said that if I kept it up, I would only do more harm to myself and the people I cared about. She said that once I turned her, I would understand that there was more to my life than the need to remove the Lannisters from the world. And that was … the last thing I needed to hear. Especially since Ellaria had been the one encouraging me to make an offer to Isabel in the first place.” 

“I’ve said a lot of stupid things in my life, Oberyn, but none of them have been as stupid as telling you Ellaria was a bad influence on you.” He smiled at that but it was still sad, his hold on you tightening. “That wouldn’t have been a good start to Isabel’s new life.”

“No. And as much as I loved her, Ellaria’s presence was … is… always going to factor into my decisions. I will never compromise on that, no matter how many years I walk this Earth, or who I choose to have beside me.” And you shouldn’t have to. Ellaria isn’t just your Maker. She’s … everything to you. “Isabel didn’t take that well, and she definitely didn’t take me telling her that I’d chosen not to turn her because of her feelings about Ellaria well, either.” 

He stopped speaking, and you watched the emotions pass across his features, his face more expressive than you’d ever seen it before. He tightened his jaw and then loosened it before finally looking down at you with another frown on his face that sent a shallow ache through your chest. “Are you -”

“Give me a second. This is not easy for me.” He closed his eyes and then turned toward you, kissing you on the forehead and lingering there. “I left her and went back to Ellaria and Tyene full time. I refused to turn Tyene because that girl deserved better than to be someone’s second choice, and Ellaria was far more equipped to handle her transformation than I was.” He spoke without pulling back, his lips brushing over your skin with each word. “But curiosity got the better of me, and after a little while, I went back to check in on Isabel, and she …” 

You felt it before you saw it - the warmth of Oberyn’s tears falling against your skin. Without thinking twice, you slipped an arm around his back and the other under his shoulder, turning your head so that you could press your cheek to his chest. Whatever he’s going to say next is going to be awful. 

“She cut my mark from her skin.”

You closed your eyes as the ache in your heart deepened. Without realizing it, you tightened your hold on him, fingers digging into his skin. You were expecting it to be bad given the way he was struggling to get through this part of the story. But that’s horrible. I can’t even imagine… 

Your thoughts trailed off as he continued. “She said if I wouldn’t choose her, she didn’t want the safety my mark brought her. Since she could not see it, she… What she did to herself, it… her arm was … mutilated. The wound … it … it became infected, and the infection spread. She refused to let me do anything about it.” He paused again, and when he spoke, you heard the tremble in his voice. “She was too weak to get out of bed, but she was strong enough to tell me that all she’d done was make sure that I didn’t have to wait around for years to watch her die of old age since I wouldn’t give her a forever.” 

“Oh, Oberyn.” Your blood ran cold at his words, and you knew that he’d heard your sharp intake of breath. “That’s… how could someone do that to you?” You knew that he’d loved the woman, but you thought she’d been selfish - especially when it came to Ellaria. And if she knew what avenging his family meant, she just tried to manipulate him. And that’s even worse. 

“I don’t know. But she did die, and despite what she’d done, it … hurt to lose her. Before you, she was the last person I placed under my protection.” He sniffed, saying your name. “For four hundred years, there hasn’t been anyone else I have wanted to protect. Not even Cameron. Not even when I knew his life was in danger. Because the memory of Isabel - and what she believed that mark would eventually mean was so strong.” 

He used one hand to ease your head away from his chest, tilting it to the side so that he could stare at the skin of your throat, leaving you to wonder at his thoughts. Do you regret it? Do you wish you’d asked? Do you wish you’d waited?

“Our marks of protection are all slightly different, but they all require …” He smiled briefly, raising his thumb so that the ring caught some of the light. “The right components.” You’d wanted to ask about the process but didn’t know how - especially since you didn’t have a clue where to start, so you were glad that he brought it up on his own. “It can be made from any metal, but most of us that are … ancient choose gold. It is melted down by an elder, and then some of our blood is added to the molten liquid. Even a few drops are powerful, which is why when I bit you, I pressed the sigil to your skin. I healed the space around it with my tongue, but… the metal itself healed that area… and since the metal bears the spear of House Martell… it remains on your skin, a visible reminder of just how important you are to me.” 

“I wish it was visible for me, especially after seeing Ellaria, Tyene and Toban’s reactions to it.” The words slipped out - and at the realization of their implication, you sat straight up, eyes wide. Oh, no. I didn’t mean to… Especially after what we just talked about. Now he’s going to think - 

“I wish you could see it too. But for right now … you can feel it.” He reached for you again, fingers trailing over your skin and sending heat throughout your body. And when he positioned his hand the same way he had the night he’d marked you, you gasped at the surge of warmth, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly as he gauged your reaction. “I’d almost forgotten what it feels like.” He leaned closer, curling his fingers slightly. “This is a good reminder.” Of what? 

There were plenty of ways to interpret his words, but you chose to take them at face value - that he was simply happy to be around someone that understood the significance of what he’d given them - and didn’t try to take things a step further or ask for clarification. Even though I want to, and he has to know it by now. “I’m glad something good came out of this mess.” Letting the blanket drop, you pulled one hand free, raking your fingers through his hair. “Even something small.” 

“It is not small, believe me.” He let go of your throat, his hand dropping to your shoulder and squeezing. “But I still have not told you about Cameron, and that’s what I promised to do.” 

“We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. I can sleep in.” He smiled at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But yes. Tell me about him, please. And maybe something about Toban, too. Because -” 

“Toban means well. He always has. And while I wouldn’t call it jealousy, because it’s clear he would do anything for her, the connection that Ellaria has with him has … started to bother me more as the years pass.” He rolled his eyes. “Our gifts are another thing that isn’t guaranteed, but depending on your lineage, they’re more or less likely. With Ellaria, they are very likely, since she’s one of the first.” 

You’d assumed that to be the case about her age, but with the confirmation, you realized just how special your circumstances  were - and how lucky Oberyn was. Because she barely saved him. And so anyone younger might not have. 

“Ellaria can see the past via touch. Toban’s ability is to read situations and circumstances like no one I have ever met before. Tyene … well, she is able to convince anyone to do just about anything, and doesn’t hesitate to tell you what she thinks about it.” 

You grinned at the admission, lifting a brow. “I’m not surprised by that, especially after the way she greeted me for the first time.” 

He smiled, too, the man nodding. “Her treatment of you is how I knew she accepted you, but I was surprised that she did it as quickly as she did.” 

“I like her, Oberyn. I’m glad that Ellaria turned her. She fits well with the two of you…. And Toban.” Dropping your hands to settle them in your lap, you cocked your head to the side. “What is your gift, though? You must have one, if the three of them do.”

“Nothing as exciting as seeing the past or knowing the future or the power of persuasion.” He sighed, the rise and fall of his chest a strange sight. “My… gift is also somewhat of a curse. The depth of my humanity is what I carry with me, no matter how much I’ve tried to ignore it sometimes. Despite my hesitation when it comes to getting attached, when it happens … I cannot help the way it makes me feel… and act, when the situation calls for it.” 

“How is that a curse?” 

“I haven’t been a human in 2,000 years. At that age, most of us have long since forgotten what it’s like to experience things the same way humans do. But I have never been able to disassociate from that part of myself entirely. I’ve tried to, but it has never worked for long.” He closed his eyes, pausing. “And that brings me to Cameron.” 

“I’m going to stay quiet, Oberyn, and just let you talk. Because if I interrupt, I’ll -” 

“Thank you. There aren’t many that know this full story, so…” He slipped a hand under the blanket and then under your top, his large palm pressed to your side. “That will help.” 

You didn’t know what to expect when it came to the man’s story, but once he started speaking, you were enraptured - and wouldn’t have wanted to interject without his encouragement. 

“Ellaria and I have done many things throughout the years to earn a living, finding ways to adapt to the times at hand and use current events to our advantage. Some of the stories about our kind are true, but there are others that aren’t. For example, some of us are quite persuasive, like Tyene, but we can’t just … bend people’s minds to our will without a second thought. Luckily, by the time I was turned, Ellaria had already amassed quite a fortune that she kept secret. Her name may have been Sand then, yet she was anything but poor. Those funds, along with what I was able to take away from my own family’s vaults throughout the years were more than we needed.” 

He hummed, glancing down at you and then back out at the skyline, and you used the opportunity to take in his profile, parts of his face silhouetted in shadow, though it only made him more appealing. 

“At the time I met Cameron, Ellaria and I were operating a network of Speakeasies on the East Coast. It was good money, easy money. And it was simple for us to attract visitors, because almost everyone was looking for a place to drink and socialize where they could be themselves in every way.” 

You didn’t need clarification on that. When it came to Oberyn, excess was the norm, and he’d never been one to hide his true nature, or his desires. Sex and alcohol and freedom? People must have loved them back then. He stroked over your skin with his fingertips, humming low in his throat before he continued. 

“Cameron was … special. He visited one of our locations in The Bowery, and caught my eye from across the room. I had two beautiful women in my lap and he still devoured me with his gaze as though they were not there at all. His confidence was… alluring. He wasn’t shy about what he wanted, and I liked that. We began a relationship, and I quickly realized that I cared for him, despite promising myself that I would keep things … loose. I did travel a lot, between locations, and Ellaria often filled in in my absence, so he got to know her, too.” 

Oberyn lowered his head and rested it against yours, collecting himself. “Many like us came to America then, to take advantage of the rapidly expanding cities and the nightlife. There was a group - the one Toban told you about? From Braavos? They were also attempting to operate in the same market as we were, and it got … contentious.” 

You weren’t surprised because Toban had given you a heads up, but that didn’t make the story any easier to hear. He’s been through so much. He’s had to adapt over and over and it’s still happening. 

“I wanted to be sure that Cameron was safe, and since he knew what I was, it was a little easier. We trained together. He stayed close to me when I traveled. I told him what to look for when it came to potential attempts on his life. The sell swords attacked one of our clubs one night, burning it to the ground because they thought we were there … and that is when Cameron and I disappeared for a while. We needed to lay low, and it was during that time that he asked me to protect him with my mark. But I was hesitant, and you know why.” 

“I do.” You mumbled the words, agreeing. “And I know how hard it probably still was for you to tell him no.” 

“Punishing Cameron for Isabel’s behavior was unfair of me, and I know it. I knew it then, but that changed nothing. He asked me - repeatedly, why I would not protect him if I claimed to love him. All I could say was that I had never before used the mark as a last resort, and I didn’t want to start with him. There were many Others from Braavos, but they were clumsy, and I thought … I thought my presence would be enough. But Cameron got tired of me telling him no, and so he turned to Toban, who was spending a lot of time with Ellaria then, and one thing led to another.” 

“Would … would the bond he felt with Toban because of the mark have changed if you’d turned him later? How does that work?” 

“I do not know.” He shook his head, the man’s frown deepening. “For many, offering the mark is the precursor to offering them a second life. It is … I don’t think I have ever come across someone that is protected by one and a Child of another. But in Cameron’s case, it wouldn’t have mattered. He grew to resent me in the months following Toban’s decision, and his final request of me was just a last effort to make me choose.” 

“Were he and Toban -” 

“No, they were never together. Not to my knowledge, anyway. Toban marked him because time was running out, and it was either that or watch me lose someone else I cared for before I was ready, because they would have eventually killed him. It was only a matter of time. He turned him because after the mark, the two of them became close, since Cameron wanted less and less to do with me. After your first, it … I’m told that it becomes less likely that the bond is so strong between a Maker and a Child, so to Toban, it was as simple as granting a request. Cameron told me what was happening, and then the two of them left and were out of touch for twenty years.” 

You found it hard to believe that Toban had been out of touch with Ellaria for so long, but stayed quiet, thoughts buzzing in your head. Oberyn’s differing use of his mark of protection through the years was staggering - from overusing it to not using it to choosing to use it sparingly to only offering it when the possibility of forever was on the table, but denying it to someone that was in immediate danger. And then there’s me. How do I factor into this? “You never considered turning Cameron?”

“Not once. I did love him. We were close. He knew me well, and we were happy together, but it wasn’t … I never felt the same as I did with Isabel, and that was a problem for me. He’s happy now, I’ve seen him once since he became one of us, but … the bond between us does not exist anymore. And as upset as I was with Toban at the time, his … interference was for the best. It kept Cameron alive, and it kept me from being forced to make a decision that I would have regretted later.” 

You couldn’t help it - stifling a yawn in the middle of his words, one hand rising to cover your mouth and hide it. Shit. “I’m sorry, Oberyn. It’s just that it’s late, and you’re comfortable, and -”

“It is. And I am.” He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I am almost done, and then I will take you to bed.” Wait, what? “To sleep,” he clarified, lips finding your temple. “I just need to explain my feelings toward Toban, and then … then you will understand more.” 

“Before you do that, I have something to ask.” Leaning back, you looked up as he stared down at you, the man nodding twice. “Tyene offered to change me if you wouldn’t. Toban said that he was glad things wouldn’t be the same with me as they were with Cameron, and that he looked forward to getting to know me when this was over … why? They’ve known me for a few days, and they’re already acting like I’m going to be around for a long time, and that they want it to happen.” 

“They’re my family. They understand that everything going on right now is … fluid. But the fact that I acted so quickly and definitively with you, despite you being in no danger from any Others … it tells them everything they need to know about my feelings.” It was an answer, but only a partial one - though it would have to be enough. Because there are more important things to worry about. 

“What if there are Others working with the Lannisters that Tyrion doesn’t know about? What if that’s a surprise? What if -”

“That is nothing to worry about. It is a rule set by our Elders that we give the Lannisters nothing. They’ve been trying to figure out how our blood works for centuries, and have offered unbelievable sums of money for assistance. But despite the fact that not all of the Others have a vendetta against them like mine or Ellaria’s, no one is willing to help them, because it means they’d be completely cut off if they lived long enough… and survived my retaliation against them.” 

Toban’s words - no one would dare cross the Red Viper - echoed in your mind, and despite yourself, you shivered. If he has that much power over the entire community, then … then the fact that I’ve been accepted by him means even more than I thought it did. “I’m glad to hear it. And soon, helping the Lannisters won’t be something any of you have to worry about.” 

“No, it won’t be.” He hummed and then squinted, though you knew that his vision was perfect. “The sun will start to rise in about 40 minutes, so I’m going to make this quick.” Quietly encouraging him to continue, you squeezed his bicep. “I have denied myself very little in my first life… or in this life. But I am consciously denying myself the connection that we have with our first. Over and over, I have had the opportunity to choose someone to fill that role, and I have walked away every time. Toban was Ellaria’s first, and the bond they have … as much as I want to experience that, it hasn’t ever felt right.  She turned him with nothing but love for him in her heart, and I … I’ve already told you what I feel. The hate. The rage. The sadness. They are not all I feel, but they are always there, like a shadow. Making someone an offer of eternal life shouldn’t come with the burden of those things.” 

No, it shouldn’t. “Only you can decide what the right time is, or who the right person is, Oberyn. And you told me the other night that once this is over? You might be able to make that offer to someone. I want that for you. And whoever it is is going to be the luckiest person in the world, because you -” 

“No.” Using one hand, he turned your face toward his, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tiny smile. “I will be the luckiest man on this planet if they say yes.” Oberyn kissed you softly, his lips parted so that your lower one fit between them. 

He didn’t say you, don’t get your hopes up. But it was impossible not to - all of Oberyn’s words and explanations aligned with his actions and your presence in his life, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that he was referring to you when he mentioned an after for someone. 

“I do not hate Toban. I could never truly despise someone that holds such a large portion of Ellaria’s heart. But he has something I haven’t been able to seriously consider for myself, and seeing him … and them together is a reminder of that.” 

You kissed him when he was done speaking, puckered lips trailing over his and then to his cheek, pausing over the space where his dimple appeared each time he smiled and then moving back to his mouth. You lingered there, wanting to deepen it, but Oberyn decided for you, shaking his head and leaning back. “We need to go inside. If I get carried away with you out here, the sun will not be pleasant.” 

“Of course.” Pushing yourself to your feet, you kept the blanket wrapped around you, staring down at where he still sat. “Plus, unless I missed something in the last few hours, you and Ellaria haven’t had enough time to take care of what you need to, so… getting carried away isn’t an option.” 

“We have not.” He stood, too, reaching out to put an arm around your shoulders. “But there are other things that you and I could do that would make me lose track of time.”

“Yeah?” Feeling bold, you slid your arm around his back, hand landing on his hip and your fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of the pants he wore. “Are any of those possible in that bedroom with the drapes shut?” 

“If you’re not too tired, we can find out.” 

You were exhausted, but his words sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, your eyes moving to the partially open door. I’ll never be too tired to find out with you, Oberyn. What you’d discussed had likely taken a lot out of him, but you never would have known based on the way he led you back into the bedroom and then fluidly worked to secure the door and drapes - ensuring that not even a sliver of sunlight would leak through when it rose. 

You went into the bathroom while he did that, taking a few moments when you’d finished to stare at yourself in the mirror. You could feel the mark he’d given you - a dull thrum against the side of your throat, and even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good, you leaned in and squinted at your reflection. I know what it’s supposed to look like, but I really wish I could see it just once. 

And you didn’t even mean as a result of being turned - though if that were the case, you’d be able to see it any time you looked into the mirror. I just mean … Swirling your fingertips slowly over your skin, you sighed. I want to see what he sees.

A knock at the door startled you. When it pushed open a few seconds later, Oberyn peaking around the edge, you straightened up and smiled. “You can come in. I guess.” 

He stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. Oh, he took his shirt off. “The room is ready. We will be able to rest for as long as we need to.” 

“What do you do while I… while the person you’re in bed with is sleeping?” You watched his expression in the mirror, both of Oberyn’s eyebrows shooting upward. “You don’t really sleep, so -”

“I do need rest. When it’s a human I’m with, my body just sort of goes into a … meditative state. I’m still alert and aware in case of danger, but if someone were to see me, they’d think I was asleep.” He stepped behind you, extending his arms so that he could grip the edges of the counter on either side of your body. “You have seen me actually sleep, though. After the Mountain? My body was doing everything possible to heal, and that meant being truly unconscious.” 

Oberyn pressed his chest to your back, never breaking eye contact with your reflection. “So it’s like a recharge. Even though you technically don’t need it, you still… keep up appearances.” 

“I do.” He nodded, turning his head to press his lips to the angle of your jaw. “When I have a reason to.” I’m the reason right now? “I also must admit to something.” He kissed you again, mouth moving closer to your ear. “In the last few days, I have spent more than a few hours just watching you sleep.” 

“Creep.” But you felt your entire body growing warm at his words, a sharp inhale of breath your only response when he let go of the counter and wound his arms around you to pull you even closer. “Oberyn.” 

“I have been trying to figure out what it is about you that has drawn me in so quickly.” He hummed, the man pushing your shirt up and gliding his fingers over your skin. “Why I was so … moved to do whatever it took to protect you, even when I was … impaired and hadn’t had the urge to give that gift to anyone in hundreds of years.” 

“Does the why matter?” Sighing as he stroked the skin beneath your belly button, you tipped your head back, resting it against his shoulder. “It doesn’t to me, because whatever the reason, it means … you’re in my life now, and I’m in yours. Whatever that means going forward is something that we’ll have to figure out, but …” Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, pressing your lips together. “Do you regret what you did? Do you wish you hadn’t been -”

“No.” It was almost a growl, Oberyn’s palm flattening against your belly, the other one moving up your body and sliding beneath the neckline of your shirt so that he could settle it over your heart. “I regret the timing, yes, and not being able to explain what I wanted to do beforehand… but when it comes to choosing you?” He nuzzled against the side of your face, his upper lip curling. “There is no regret.” 

It made you feel better. 

When you turned your head toward him, he was waiting, the man’s lips already parted so that he could pull yours between them, the scrape of his teeth making you groan. Reaching up, you used one hand to grip his hair, fingers twisting in the silver-streaked locks. He pressed harder on your chest, and once again, you knew he was monitoring your heartbeat. But this time, it’s not because he’s afraid it’s too slow. 

He kissed you harder, his mouth moving with yours - and the hand on your abdomen moved lower, the tips of his fingers skimming the waistband of your sweats. You whimpered then, Oberyn  swallowing the sound - but it only seemed to encourage him. Wait, though. Wait because … 

Pulling away from him with a gasp, you let out a shuddering breath, and were unsurprised to see mischief in his eyes, one of his brows raised. “Can, um…” Fighting to catch your breath, you chewed on your lower lip and wrinkled your nose. This is stupid. “Can they hear us? I know this is a big apartment, but …”

To his credit, Oberyn didn’t outright laugh at you. Instead he just murmured your name and leaned in to kiss you, his fingers curling slightly. “Our hearing is very good, yes. But with age and experience, we are able to … tune things out. It becomes like background noise for us unless we’re actively listening. I cannot say that they won’t all know that something is going on in here because of your heartbeat or any noises we make, but I can assure you that Ellaria and Toban are quite occupied themselves, and Tyene is more like a teenager than you know.” 

“Doesn’t want to hear either of her parents having sex? Got it.” You grinned at that, feeling marginally more at ease. “I just didn’t want to be rude, Oberyn. I know you’ll tell me that I’m worrying for nothing, but …” 

“I certainly haven’t been listening to them, I can promise you that.” The look in his eyes changed briefly, but then he was focused on you again, the intensity back. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” You considered his words for a few seconds, breaking eye contact and then closing both of yours. 

Everything you knew about Oberyn Martell - from Westerosi history books and actually meeting him in person - told you that while he had very few limitations when it came to his behavior, he was considerate of others when the situation called for it. 

He wouldn’t force you to do anything, and his honesty about the fact that three supernatural beings also in the apartment could probably hear everything happening was proof that you had a choice about whether or not to move forward. But they all already know how he is. They know how he feels, and how I feel, and …  

“I want this, Oberyn.” His hold on you tightened, and when you lifted your head again to lock eyes with him in the mirror, you nodded twice. “But, the first time we’re actually together? I’d prefer if it was just the two of us, you know?”

“Of course.” The hand at your chest dropped a few inches, Oberyn’s wrist caught on the neckline of your shirt as he palmed one breast. “No one to listen. No one to interrupt. No one to …” He pressed his lips to your cheek and then moved them down, kissing the space just beneath your ear and then against the column of your throat. “No one to make either of us leave that bed before we’re ready.” 

You moaned at that - the sound loud, and when he latched his lips against your skin and sucked, you did it again, not caring at all who was listening. He wasn’t biting you, but part of you wished that he would - and you didn’t know what exactly that said about you. “I can’t wait.” The thought of you and Oberyn - uninterrupted and in a bed together, the man finally able to give you what you both desperately wanted - was enough to make your knees shake. 

But he kept you upright, releasing your skin and then smiling against it as he continued to kiss his way forward. “On that night,” he whispered, lips moving over the part of your collarbone that was exposed, “on that night, I am going to kiss every single part of you that I marred when I was not well.” 

“Oberyn, you don’t have to -”

“It is not for you.” He shook his head, the hand at your waist sliding marginally lower while the one on your chest moved in a slow circle, one fingertip circling your nipple. “It is for me. And it is the only way I can begin to forgive myself.” You knew that telling him that you’d already forgiven him was unnecessary - he’d made the decision to make up for what he’d done, and you couldn’t sway him. “But for now…” He took a step forward, the small movement aligning your thighs with the edge of the counter. “This is for you.” 

He removed his hand from beneath your shirt and then used both of his to pull it upward, the man silent as he moved. Raising your arms to allow him to fully remove it, you let out a shuddering breath at the sight of your bare torso in the mirror, watching as he wrapped his arms around you again. He’s just watching me. Watching … us. 

The heat of his body was soft against your skin, the man’s palms warmer where they pressed to it - but you were focused on the intensity of his gaze, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as he touched you. “Oberyn, what are …” You gasped when his right hand slid down your stomach, fingers gliding beneath your waistband again - but instead of continuing down, he held it there, humming appreciatively. “You seem pleased with yourself, Prince Oberyn.” 

That got a laugh out of him, the smile spreading across his face as he palmed your chest with his other hand. But when Oberyn said your name next, there was no trace of laughter in his voice. Instead, it was low and full of want, his eyes blazing in the mirror’s reflection. “You’ll be pleased in a few minutes, too. That is a promise.” 

 You managed little more than a quiet sigh in response, but you nodded, never taking your eyes off of him. He was pressed against you from behind, the man’s body firm, and when he used one foot to nudge yours apart, you moved. Not much - just enough to widen your stance for him. Please touch me, Oberyn. Please, just … 

Reaching up with one hand, you dragged your fingers through the hair laying against the nape of his neck as you finally turned your head toward him, your upper body twisting slightly. It was enough to allow you to kiss him, your mouth pressed to his as your fingers curled. 

Despite his age and his circumstances - and the fact that your friends had the element of surprise, you knew that nothing was promised beyond the moments you were living in. Especially for me, you thought as you continued to kiss him, lips parting in a signal to him that you wanted more. Because out of everyone, I’m the only one without a contingency plan or immortal blood. 

He must have noticed a change in your heartbeat, because Oberyn pulled away moments later, his frown deep. “What is wrong? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No. I don’t.” Closing your eyes, you bit down on your lower lip. “I’m just … so much could go wrong, Oberyn. And I’m scared that I’ll lose you before …” You pulled your hand from his head, using it to cover your mouth. Just say it. “I’m scared that I’ll lose you before I can really get to know you. Or that something will happen to me, and then…” And then you’ll lose someone else you care about earlier than planned. 

“You will not lose me.” He leaned in, running his nose along your temple. “Not during this conflict, and definitely not tonight.” He kissed you then, lips landing on the corner of one eye. “And nothing is going to happen to you… nothing that you don’t like, anyway.” You felt his smile, the man pausing before he spoke again - that time, directly into your ear. “Let me take care of you, issa ōños.” 

You knew it was Valyrian, but you didn’t know what he’d said - and didn’t want to stop him and ask, especially when his hand moved even lower, the edges of his nails dragging against your sensitive skin and making your hips jerk backward into his. He was hard and made no effort to conceal that from you, Oberyn bending one knee and sliding that foot between both of your legs so that you could feel the length of him against the back of your hip. 

It also stabilized you, your lips curving into a tiny smile at the realization. But that was cut off when he kissed you again, Oberyn’s lips crushing yours with what you could only describe as a slight desperation. You have nothing to prove to me, Oberyn. Nothing at all. 

The hand on your chest moved upward, palm pausing over your heart for long moments as the kiss continued, desperation turning into something like need as he felt the steady - though elevated - beat of it. He nodded once without breaking the kiss, and when you circled your hips slowly, leaning the weight of your upper body into his, Oberyn was ready. 

He licked into your mouth, the drag of his tongue long and slow. It took you a few seconds to realize that he’d dropped his hand again, slipping his fingers between your legs and curving them - the breadth of them pressed against the apex of your thighs. His touch was welcome, and when he stroked you with one long finger, you moaned into his mouth, your hand rising again to let your fingers tangle in his hair. 

He continued with only one finger, though he sped up after a minute or so, the man not doing anything but touching you until he broke the kiss to let you breathe. You gasped a breath into your lungs, eyes squeezed shut, and when Oberyn’s hand moved upward from your chest and to your throat, you let it out shakily at what you knew was coming. 

He made contact with the mark on your neck at the same time one finger slipped into you, Oberyn humming as you breathed out his name, the sound so quiet that only someone with his hearing would have known. Your muscles clenched around his finger, your body accommodating him immediately - though you wanted more, and knew that he’d want you to say so. 

You opened your mouth to tell him, turning your head just enough so that you could steal a quick kiss, but when your lips met, you felt the sharp sting of his teeth - the man nicking your lip and then snapping his head back before you could even react. His fangs are out. Is that new or has it been that way every time we’ve been close like this? “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“Don’t apologize for what you are, Oberyn.” You dragged your tongue slowly over the area he’d bitten, your tongue coming away coated in the tang of copper. You met his eyes again - directly that time, and not in the mirror - and shook your head without looking away. “I can handle it, and I want to.” It was the truth - you needed him to know that no part of him or who he was or what he wanted frightened you or made  you uncomfortable in any way, and that you trusted him to toe the line of safety with you in every situation. “Can…” Swallowing, you nodded. “Can I see?” 

He hesitated but it was brief. Oberyn’s hand dropped from your neck back to your upper chest, the motion of his other hand paused, too. “Yes. You can.” He opened his mouth again, tipping his head back and baring his teeth - and you watched as his fangs descended, the sharp points coming into view with no change in his expression. Oberyn stayed still, the man’s eyes on your face as you stared at what he was showing you. 

They were beautiful - much like the rest of him was - and without thinking about it, you raised your hand slowly, fingertips caressing his cheek as your thumb hovered just in front of his open mouth. “Does it hurt?” You spoke quietly, wondering what he felt in the rhythm of your heartbeat. “When they come down?”

“No.” He prodded at one with the tip of his tongue, your eyes following the movement. “It never has.” You wanted to touch one of them - to press the pad of your thumb against the point, testing the sharpness, but had no idea if that would be crossing the line of acceptability. “People used to fear them, even after I told them what I was. I became … adept at keeping them hidden. At not letting my natural reaction to … others allow them to be visible.” 

“So they come out when you’re turned on?” Arching a brow, you grinned at him again. “Good to know.” The edge of your nail caught on his lower lip, and then Oberyn snapped his teeth at you, playfully nipping at it before turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist with a lingering press of his lips. “Oberyn.” You got his attention with a single word, his gaze rising to lock with yours again. “You have my permission to … bite me if that’s what you want.” 

It sounded stupid coming from you - the words leaving your lips and echoing in the small space. But he probably needs to hear it, because he was so afraid I’d be mad or off-put and … I’m not. “Is it what you want?” 

He pulled you closer to his body, Oberyn’s fingers curling against your core, and you nodded in return. “Yes. I want you, and that urge is a part of who you are, so… it is.” His eyes flashed at your admission, the man’s pupils widening - and then he was kissing you again, none of the previous restraint present. 

Instead, he took the lead, his mouth pressed to yours with some force as the hand between your legs began to move again. But that time, Oberyn went with two fingers, much as he had done in the safehouse. It felt better - your body’s immediate reaction to cant your hips forward over and over into his touch, chasing the pressure of the heel of his hand on each backstroke. 

He bit your lip again before he moved his mouth to your jaw, the points of his teeth scraping over it and then dragging along your cheek, the man’s plush lips trailing a second path over your heated skin. 

Closing your eyes and breathing hard, you angled your head away and gave him a better route to your neck, knowing full well that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the mark - but still wanting his mouth on it, wanting to feel the heat of his lips as the effect of the claim he’d made on you coursed through your body. Not a claim, you reminded yourself as he bit on your earlobe before releasing it. A promise. A reminder that he wants to keep me safe. 

And Oberyn did press his lips to your mark moments later, along with a twist of his wrist that left his fingers buried in you but also allowed him to circle his thumb over the spot just above them, your hips jerking back once more. His kiss burned, the connection between you electric in its intensity, and you forced your eyes open, watching what was going on in the mirror. 

It was a sight you’d never forget - one of his hands pressed so tightly to your chest that your flesh dimpled beneath it, the other hidden beneath the sweats you still wore, the motion of the fabric over the movement of his fingers and the flex of the muscles in his wrist and forearm something that you could have watched for hours. 

But it was his head that you focused on, the crown of dark curls streaked with silver repositioned after only a few seconds and giving you a view of his brow and nose as he moved away from your throat and back to the place where your neck met your shoulder. 

You didn’t even notice your own bare skin - chest on full display in the warm light of the vanity fixture - because you were so focused on him and what he was doing. But nothing could have prepared you for Oberyn raising his eyes and turning his head so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder. 

He curled his fingers inside of you at the same moment he smirked, and then he opened his mouth, letting you watch as his fangs descended once more. He’s going to … Oh, he’s… 

You knew it was coming and yet you were still unprepared for the way it felt the moment he sunk his teeth into your skin, the man’s low moan at the taste of you sending a shiver of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your first instinct was to close your eyes but you forced yourself to keep them open, watching as your mouth dropped open, lips forming his name though you didn’t speak it out loud. 

He didn’t actually drink from you the same way he had the first night. Instead, Oberyn sipped slowly, timing the swallows with the strokes of his fingers, your body following his lead. You lifted one hand and laid it over the one he had on your chest, using the other one to grip the edge of the counter even though it was unnecessary. 

You wanted to watch - wanted to see the exact moment you fell apart from his touch and his mouth, but instead of doing that, you closed your eyes and let yourself relax into him, the man supporting your weight, even as your hips continued to move in tandem with his hand. 

There was pressure building in your lower belly - the result of his touch and his bite, and if you could sense it, you knew that he likely could, too. But I haven’t touched him. I haven’t … he hasn’t… You groaned, forcing your eyes open and saying his name, the man looking up without pulling his mouth away from your skin. His eyes were dark - the pupils so wide that you couldn’t tell where they ended, and there was a tiny trickle of blood at one corner of his mouth that made you gasp when you saw it. That’s my … oh, shit. 

But it didn’t deter you, and when you spoke moments later, your voice was low, though you heard the certainty in your tone. “Touch yourself, Oberyn. I know you want to.” 

His eyes rolled back and then he shut them, pulling the hand on your chest out from beneath yours as he sucked on your shoulder, and then you felt that hand slide down your body before it joined the other one between your legs. What the fuck is he… 

Before you could even finish your thought, Oberyn deftly replaced his first hand with the second, never missing a beat in the rhythm of his touch. Oh, he’s … oh, shit. Humming, you watched as he removed the first hand - his fingers glistening with your slick - and drew it back between your bodies, pushing the pants he wore down so that he could do what you’d told him to.  

He grunted against your skin and then you felt him move - stroking himself slowly, the man’s knuckles brushing against your back and hip. He sped up the motion of his other hand, and you glanced down, catching a glimpse of what was going on behind you - his large hand wrapped around his length, lower body pulled away from yours enough to give him the space he needed to glide easily. 

You had no idea what a vampire’s release would be like - or if it would be anything at all - but before you could dwell on the thought, Oberyn’s thumb found a sweet spot again, the man pressing down against your skin before circling slowly, another prolonged suck on your shoulder making you gasp. 

It was almost too much - definitely more than you’d experienced with him the first time he’d touched you, but at the same time, it was nowhere close to being enough. Will it ever be? You wondered as you forced your eyes to stay open, gaze focused on the flex of the tendons in his wrist and the way the length of him looked - tip flushed, the rest of him and his hand coated in you. 

Without warning, Oberyn released your shoulder and lifted his head, and you let out a moan at what he left behind - a double set of puncture wounds on your skin, thin trails of blood oozing from them and more of the same coating his lower lip. He looked almost drunk, his eyelids heavy, and for a few seconds, you thought he was going to stay like that… but you were wrong. 

“Give me your hand.” Voice low, he made the demand, Oberyn’s tongue cleaning the blood from his mouth. “Over mine.” Ducking his head, you felt as he kissed the place he bit once more, followed by the drag of his tongue, which felt almost as good as the bite itself. But you moved your hand at the same time, making a guess that he wasn’t asking for help touching you and reaching back so that you could wrap your fingers over his mid-stroke. 

He grunted at your touch, and before you could question him further, it was your hand resting against his skin, Oberyn’s larger one securely atop yours and guiding you. He was warm against your palm, the heft of him large but not uncomfortable, and as you took over, Oberyn’s focus shifted back to the hand he had between your legs, the speed of those thrusts increasing, as did the pace of his thumb. 

It felt amazing  - better than anything that had ever been done to your body before, and Oberyn knew it, the man’s smile turning lazy as he focused on the mirror. “Normally I would prolong this,” he murmured, mouth moving along your skin. “To see how long you could remain right on the edge.” No, please. Not tonight. I just want … “But that is not what either of us needs tonight.” He sighed, mouthing at the base of your throat and then parting his lips to bite again - that time without his fangs. “Tonight you just need me.” 

It was the truth - and it didn’t matter how or why he knew it, and so you nodded, swallowing and tipping your head back as you paused your hand long enough to swirl your thumb over his head, the man twitching at the touch. Squeezing once in agreement, you then resumed your movement - and Oberyn changed his, holding his fingers still inside you while the third kept moving - the pace increasing. 

“Oberyn!” You cried out, your voice much louder than you’d anticipated, but it only encouraged him, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as your toes curled, Oberyn’s hand squeezing yours once more before releasing it. He moved that hand up to your chest again, the weight of his touch grounding you and holding you tight against his body. Even though your eyes snapped closed, you knew why he was touching you there - knew what he was searching for. And I hope he likes it, you thought even as your lips fell open in a series of pants, breath shaky. My fucking heart is racing, and … 

“There it is,” he whispered, followed by a quiet hum of approval. “There you go.” 

You fell apart moments later, your body nearly convulsing at his touch - your free hand slapping against the countertop as the one you had on him stuttered in its motion, grip tightening. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, and Oberyn kept them still, the man swearing in another language - one that you didn’t recognize before turning to kiss the underside of your jaw, the press of his lips against the pulse in your neck welcome. 

He eased you through it, his touch lengthening your orgasm, but once the haze of pleasure had begun to subside, you took a deep, shaky breath and used the hand on the counter to touch his wrist, stopping the motion. Stop. Stop, Oberyn. “Let me turn around, Oberyn.” 

He slipped his fingers from inside of you, but didn’t pull his hand free from beneath your sweats. You let him go long enough to turn and face him, knees wobbly and your chest heaving, but when you met his eyes, you saw understanding in them. “Are you -”

“Be quiet.” Wetting your lips, you shook your head. “Be quiet and let me take care of you now.” His eyes flashed but he didn’t speak, and when you touched him again, your grip was certain - your confidence growing with each passing second. 

He crowded you against the counter again, and without thinking, you maneuvered yourself so that you were sitting on the edge of it, legs spread so that Oberyn could step between them. It gave you better access, and when you reached up with your free hand, gripping the hair at the back of his neck and urging him to kiss you, Oberyn didn’t hesitate. 

It was a deep kiss, Oberyn’s  tongue seeking entrance to your mouth immediately, and as he kissed you, his hips began to rock forward, the tiny thrusts forcing more of him through your grip. He held you with both hands - one of them pressed to the center of your back, the other one gripping the back of your neck and holding you in place, but despite the power behind it, his grip was gentle. 

You felt his fangs again when he bit on your lower lip but he didn’t pierce the skin, and when you gasped, the sound turning into a moan moments later, Oberyn groaned too, his hips moving faster. He broke the kiss, humming out your name. “I am close. I… where do y-”

“Anywhere.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, you shook your head. “Anywhere, Oberyn.” He grunted at your words but didn’t speak again, and when Oberyn kissed you hard, mouth sealed over yours, you knew that close meant imminent. 

Your heart racing again, you swirled your thumb over his tip and squeezed, the speed of your hand increasing as Oberyn’s lips parted, though he didn’t pull back from you. Forcing your eyes open, you tilted your head down to stare between your bodies, twisting your wrist so that when he came, it would hit your belly - and that change was all he needed, the man pulsing in your hand as he followed you over the edge. 

It coated your skin, pearly streaks hitting your stomach, the volume increasing with each stroke of your hand until he was nearly shuddering in your grip, Oberyn’s muscles twitching though he didn’t seem to have any trouble staying on his feet. “Fuck.” He swore, the sound beautiful to your ears. “You just … you are …” 

“Hold that thought, Prince Oberyn.” With one more stroke - and a final squeeze - you released him, fingertips trailing up his stomach until you could press your hand over his heart. It was strange to feel nothing beneath your palm, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what it would have felt like - his chest rising and falling rapidly while he struggled to catch his breath, his lips parted as he sucked air between them. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s alive in all the ways that count. Your hand moved higher, fingers curling around the side of his throat and your thumb sliding over his jawline. “Ok, now you can finish.” 

“I just did.” He raised an eyebrow. “All over your -” You laughed, eyes closing and your chin dropping, but when Oberyn said your name, you looked back up at him. “I know you heard me earlier, heard what I called you?” Oh, he’s … Nodding, you took a deep breath and held it. “Issa ōños, it means … it means my light. And that is what you are to me, because you’ve shown me something I haven’t seen in a very long time.” 

Your heart was racing, his explanation of the words much more intimate than you’d ever expected them to be. “I have?” He nodded, both of his hands slipping down toward your waist. 

“The way forward. Hope. What it means to … care for someone again. I am beginning to see an end to the darkness I have lived with for so long.” You didn’t know what to say, and any of the things that crossed your mind seemed like too little - so you just leaned forward and kissed him gently, stroking the back of his head. When the kiss ended, neither of you said anything - but you didn’t separate, either, locked in place and holding each other, his forehead pressed to yours. We can’t stay here, though. 

“We should get cleaned up, Oberyn. I need to lay down.” Sighing, you straightened up and looked into his eyes. “And I need to … figure out how to respond to what you just said, because -”

“No. You don’t. Not yet.” He smiled, the expression understanding. “I just wanted you to know.” The man backed off, though he was reluctant to let you go. “It is important that you know.”  

He stepped away, giving you the room you needed to climb off of the counter and begin to clean up, doing the same thing beside you before pulling his pants back on. Everything he says is important. But that seems … very important. And I just … I don’t know what to think. 

Luckily for you, there was plenty of time, since you had days before the engagement party and wedding, and you weren’t involved in every aspect of the attack plan. But it can wait until I wake up. You yawned, swaying on your feet as you dried your face off with a fluffy towel, but then you felt Oberyn’s arms around you again, his mouth right next to your ear. “It’s time for bed. You can barely stand.” 

You didn’t argue, and only a few seconds later, you were horizontal on the comfortable mattress, the thick blanket covering you while Oberyn pressed against you from behind.

You were drowsy, and knew that it wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, but you forced yourself to speak one final time, clearing your throat without opening your eyes. “I know you won’t sleep, but I hope you get some rest.” He chuckled, his mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder. “I’ll see you when I wake up. I lo-” 

You stopped yourself just in time, breath catching in your throat. Oh, no. Oh, I just almost… His arm tightened around you, Oberyn pulling you as close as he could. “I will be here.” I almost just fucked everything up. I almost ruined everything. 

You were exhausted, but the racing of your heart at the near admission kept you awake for a long time. And if Oberyn noticed - which you knew that he did - he didn’t comment on it, his body still behind yours.  

“You’re serious?” You looked back and forth between them, eyes wide. “Tyene? Toban? You’re telling me that -”

“Yes. We’ve all been cooped up in here for a week, and you haven’t been anywhere for almost two aside from coming here.” The girl grinned, holding out a hand. “We’re going out tonight.” 

“But shouldn’t we -” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Shouldn’t you two be worried about preparing for the wedding instead of worrying about babysitting a human? The engagement party is tomorrow, and…” Trailing off, you looked at Toban’s face, watching as he studied you. “That’s why we’re leaving.” 

Closing your eyes, you nodded. It’s because the party is tomorrow. “After tomorrow, we lose the element of surprise.” Tyene stepped forward, glancing at Toban. “Or at least Oberyn and Ellaria do. So between then and the wedding, things will be … harder for us. Unless we go tonight, we won’t be able to until it’s all over because they might be looking.” 

“And at that point, none of us will be hiding anymore.” Toban cleared his throat, saying your name. “So tonight, the three of us are going to leave the apartment, you are going to check in with someone that you know as proof of life, and Tyene and I are going to fuel up for what is coming.” 

That was code for find someone to drink from, though he was tactful about admitting it. “That’s not the only reason we’re leaving.” You smiled at her, nodding, even though you felt a pang in your chest. “But alright. Let me get changed. I don’t think I want my first time out and around people in such a long time to be in sweatpants.” She grinned, turning and leaving the room, though Toban remained, the man eyeing you curiously. “What? What did -”

“He expects you to be upset.” Frowning, Toban shook his head. “But you aren’t… at least in the way it would make sense for you to be.” 

“Oberyn told me about your gift.” You stood, taking a deep breath. “And you’re right, I do feel … something right now, but … two thousand years of history between them? I’ve known him for fifteen seconds in comparison. And if this is what needs to happen so that he can focus on what’s coming, there’s no way I can be mad about it.” You chewed on your lip and then shook your head. “This isn’t a shock to me, Toban. I knew it was going to happen.If anything, I’m surprised it took this long.” 

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead closed his eyes, nodding. He doesn’t know what to say. “How long do you need to get ready?” Toban cleared his throat. “An hour?”

“No, not even close.” Glancing around the room, you shrugged. “Twenty minutes? A half hour?” He agreed and then followed Tyene out of the room, leaving you alone. There were plenty of clothes for you to choose from, and after checking the weather on one of the TV channels, you opted for a pair of jeans and a light colored tee, pulling a cardigan over it. 

From there, you moved to the vanity, sliding onto the bench seat and reaching for the small bag of toiletries that included makeup, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to put in the effort. Not like I’m trying to impress anyone. 

“I have warned them that if anything happens to you, they will answer to me.” 

Turning your head toward the voice, you rolled your eyes when you saw Oberyn leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t have agreed to let me leave this apartment if you thought something might happen.” He pushed off of the wall and moved toward where you sat, the man settling both hands on your shoulders. “It’ll be good to get outside, Oberyn, to be around other people again.” 

“Are we not enough?” You thought about lying and then opted not to, setting the compact you held back down as you turned your head again to look up at him. 

“It’s not that you aren’t enough. I just … I went from interacting with dozens of people every day and using all kinds of technology whenever I wanted to the confines of an apartment, no phone, and the same four faces for the last two weeks.” Aside from Clegane and Tyrion, that is. “It was a big change.” 

“You’ll be back in that world full time soon enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’m … sorry that this is what your life has become. You should not have to hide here, with us. This is not your fight.” 

“It is, though.” Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you shrugged. “It became my fight the second you kissed me at that party, Oberyn. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you win it.” Even if that means going out to a bar so that you can fuck the lingering effects of Ellaria’s blood from your system. “Besides, spending time with Toban and Tyene will be … interesting. I’m sure they’ll have a ton of stories to tell me, and with you and Ellaria out of earshot, they won’t have to worry about censoring themselves.” 

He laughed at that but didn’t speak, his eyes on you as you applied mascara. You could see his reflection in the mirror, the man’s brow furrowed, and you wondered what it would actually take for him to speak up. I’ve never seen him like this. He twisted the ring on his thumb with two fingers, still silent when you picked up another brush - but Oberyn finally broke the silence a few seconds later, his tone full of confusion. 

“You are calm. Your heartbeat is … steady.” He frowned, glancing up at the ceiling. “Yet you know what is going to happen when -”

“Oberyn.” Capping your eyeliner, you spun on the bench to face him, hands in your lap. “Yes. I know that when the three of us are gone, you and Ellaria are going to fuck.” You knew it was more than that, but being blunt was the route you chose. “You need to be clearheaded for tomorrow, and even though having the extra stamina from her blood would probably be helpful if something happens, the focus is more important.” 

“Among other things.” He mumbled the words and then held a hand out, waiting for you to take it. “I wish it did not have to be this way.” 

“Why?” He pulled you to your feet, his free hand going to your waist. “You love her, Oberyn. You haven’t seen her in a while, and this is probably the longest the two of you have ever gone in each other’s presence without jumping into bed.” Settling your hand on his chest, you said his name again. “I will never be jealous of what the two of you have. She saved your life twice that I know about, and probably countless more times between, too.” He smiled at that - just a twitch of his lips but it was there, and so you continued. “Plus, if that night in the bathroom was any indication, my pelvis and ribs wouldn’t stand a chance with you until you get that out of your system.” Arching a brow, you stared at him for a few seconds, giving your words time to land. 

You hadn’t discussed what had happened between you - or what you’d almost said - after waking up, and the following few days had been filled with planning sessions, meaning that Oberyn’s attention was divided. You’d thought about it, of course, and figured that he had, too … but you knew that he had far more important things to worry about.

But those things didn’t keep him from you in the time before you went to bed each day, Oberyn taking breaks to lay with you until you’d fallen asleep, his hand stroking over the parts of your body that he could reach and the two of you trading deep, slow kisses until your eyes closed and he had the opportunity to extricate himself, heading back into the other room with Ellaria, Toban and Tyene. 

You only knew this was the case because you’d woken up to an empty bed one night, the fear that he was gone filling you for long moments and only abating when you heard his voice from the other room, Toban’s joining in moments later. He’d always been in bed again when you woke up, though, the comforting weight of him beside you and his face the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. 

Tyrion hadn’t come back, but packages from him had arrived throughout the week - blueprints and files, a secure phone that he’d used to call your group twice - and so you knew that he was still all in. You also knew that while the actual plan was to attack just before the wedding ceremony, there were contingencies in place in case the Lannisters acted out of character and attempted anything at the party. 

“You certainly did not complain about the way I was touching you the other night.” Narrowing his eyes playfully, he cocked his head to the side. “Or the way I used my hands.” 

“And I never would, but Oberyn, I do enjoy walking and being able to comfortably sit in chairs and breathing without pain, so … yeah. Five or six thousand years is a lot more than two, so -” Leaning in, you kissed him on the mouth, nodding. “Yes. You do what you need to do and I’m going to go and convince Toban and Tyene to let me have a couple cheap beers and the greasiest -” 

“Do you want me to stay in the other room tonight?” His hands went to your waist, all traces of humor gone from his tone. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” That threw you, and you were unable to keep your expression from changing before you got yourself under control. Oh, Oberyn. 

“I’m … not sure.” Averting your eyes, you pressed your lips together. “I don’t think I’ll be able to answer that until I get back, to be honest.”  

“Thank you. Thank you for being -”

“Oberyn, will you please stop being annoying and let her leave?” Tyene popped her head into the room, a clear look of irritation on her face. “This isn’t the inquisition, and -” He stepped backwards, pulling you with him without looking away. But Oberyn used one hand to shove the girl back into the hallway, followed by closing the door before he pressed his back to it, two quick knocks from outside immediately following. “Two minutes, Martell. Or I’m breaking this door down, and -”

“I’ll be out in one, Tyene!” Raising your voice, you cut her off before turning your full attention to Oberyn. “I’ll see you when I get back.” You contemplated telling him to have fun, but decided against it, choosing instead to lean closer, winding your arms around his neck and tucking your head in. “In one piece, too. Maybe even a little tipsy. We’ll see.” 

“We will.” He kissed the top of your head, arms snaking around your waist. “Please be careful. Stay close to them. If one of them -”

“I’ll listen to them the same way I would you.” Backing off, you nodded. “I promise. Now kiss me goodbye and let me leave, alright?” He eyed you warily, but you could see that  there was pride in his eyes, too - the man staring at you in a way no one ever had before.

His kiss took you by surprise, the press of the man’s mouth gentle, even as the tips of his fingers dug into your sides. He deepened it, Oberyn swallowing your sigh as he traced his tongue along the edges of your teeth and then let it slide past them, meeting yours. 

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, though you could have read it as one, because you were about to walk out the front door of the apartment into an uncertain world for the first time in days. Instead, it seemed to be a promise - that even though you were leaving and he’d be going to bed with another woman that he was in love with while you were gone, he was what would be waiting when you came back. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He spoke into your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “Enjoy yourself.” 

He took your hand and urged you away from the door, opening it and walking down the hallway to where the other three were waiting. Toban and Tyene were dressed to leave the apartment but Ellaria looked more casual - her long hair down and trailing over her shoulders, the dress she wore loose, too. She looks … beautiful. 

“Alright.” Tyene clapped her hands together when she saw the two of you and then pointed at the door. “I need a damn drink, let’s get the hell out of here.” She grabbed your free hand as she passed, tugging you away from Oberyn without breaking stride. “Toban’s buying.” 

Two hours later, you were ready to admit that getting out of the apartment and back into the real world was exactly what you needed. 

After a short Uber ride, the three of you found yourself in Culver City - not quite close enough to your apartment to make it obvious, but in a place you were much more comfortable with than you would have been at one of the upscale downtown bars. 

You’d been on edge until you finished your first drink, constantly looking around the somewhat crowded room, fingers curled protectively around the frosty glass - but when you’d seen how at ease Tyene and Toban were, you followed suit. 

Your second drink went down smoothly, too, while you focused on a story that Toban was telling about the years he’d spent in Australia. But before you could order a third, the man stopped you, his hand settling on your arm. “We’re going to walk down the street to another place before we do anything else.” 

“Why? Is it -”

“I believe you call this bar-hopping?” He lifted his glass, saluting with it before he finished the final sips of his beer. “And there are still enough people in costume that it’s good cover.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Plus, I think Tyene’s got her eye on someone, so we’ll have to leave once she’s done.” 

The two of you watched as the girl flirted with a man near the bar, reaching up to tousle his hair while she laughed. Good for her. “What about you?” You focused on him, taking a breath. “See anyone here that you like?” 

“I can wait.” He drummed his fingers on the table, looking around the room. “I need less and less to survive as time passes. It’ll be good to… renew myself, but my focus right now is on you.” 

“I didn’t want this.” Shifting in your seat, you shook your head. “The last thing I want is for someone else to be responsible for me because I’m just -” A human. A weak little human who wouldn’t stand a chance against the Mountain or a vampire or something as fucking simple as getting hurt. 

“I can’t speak for her,” he interrupted, gesturing to Tyene, who’d pulled the man into a kiss. “But I’m always happy to spend time with new friends.” He laid his hand atop yours, squeezing. “Especially when they’re as special as you are.” 

“I’m just -”

“You’re not just anything. Not anymore.” Toban lifted his hand and held up one finger, the man nodding - and you only realized that he was signaling Tyene when his attention was fully back on you, his expression widening into a grin. “And now I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He nodded again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. “What is -”

“Choose someone you trust. Not family, if you can help it… but someone that you can have a conversation with. Talk for a few minutes, and then invite them out. Invite them to meet us at a random place around here. Are you familiar with the area?” 

“Yeah.” You took the phone, turning it over in your hand. “Is there anywhere I should avoid?” 

“No. Tyene can hear what you say. She’ll head to wherever you suggest next once she finishes with her friend and wait to see if anyone … else shows up before we do. Enhanced everything is an asset to us. And when we know it’s safe, you and I will head there, too.” 

“Is this dangerous? I don’t want to risk it if … This was great. I don’t need to -”

“I heard what you said to Oberyn earlier. You need the interaction. You need to see a friendly human face.” He leaned closer. “You need more than any of us can give you right now.” He was right - and you knew it, so with a tiny nod of agreement, you averted your eyes and dialed a number you knew by heart. 

It rang twice before someone picked up, and at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line, you closed your eyes, grinning. “Nora? It’s me. I’m so sorry I haven’t called you back. Want to meet for a drink?” 

Tag list reblogs coming soon! 

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x female reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #oberyn x female reader #the red viper #the prince of dorne #game of thrones fic #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell vampire au #game of thrones au #modern oberyn au #cowritten with rachael #something tofightfor #aphelion #aphelion masterlist #oberyn martell masterlist

[heartnosekid]

well, friends. i’m sure a good lot of you have seen this post. i was denied today. i have to contact a lawyer and i don't even know how to begin advocating for myself outside of simply contacting the firm an ex-friend of mine used to obtain disability.

if you would rather not read the whole vent, i completely understand. but if you would still like to provide answers or support to me, here are my main issues.

i need advice from others who have been denied disability and have gone through a lawyer to obtain it. i need advice on what to do about getting started with victim advocacy. that's about it, i reckon. i love you all. my dm's are open. you will be blocked if you clown.

and yes, i realize my stim blog is not the place to talk about this. i understand, but this is my largest audience and i feel i would be a fool to not post this somewhere it may be actually received.

tw for mental health talk / long vent under the cut, particularly of the despairing kind, and also mentions of CSA / CSAM, psychosis, and my general disabilities. if this post needs more trigger tags, please let me know and i'll add them.

my whole life i have been treated as if i am not struggling because i can do the bare minimum to keep myself alive. i can survive, but never thrive, and even surviving now has become difficult. i can't feed myself regularly, my guardians do that for me. i can't stand for longer than a few minutes at a time without extreme duress and pain, which makes cleaning, showering, and going out super difficult and beyond draining. i can understand abstract concepts and certain ideas and am emotionally intelligent, but i struggle heavily with understanding money or how government works, particularly when it comes to laws and loopholes. i don't know when i'm "being had", as it were, and others have pointed this out to me throughout my adulthood. it feels as though this entire disability journey has been me "being had". they gave me something to cling on to, the possibility i may be able to receive real help, and it seems as though they basically knew the whole time they were going to deny me again. for the fourth time. i know that is unrealistic but, it does feel that way.

i wrote several full length books when i was a child / young teenager, and had two published. i won't share the titles because i have outgrown what i wrote and find them childish and frankly embarrassing, but everyone upon learning that i have written and had novels published, immediately jumps to the conclusion that i am some kind of self-sufficient, incredibly intelligent and capable person. i have never once been able to effectively take care of myself. without my guardians, i wouldn't be able to manage money, insurance, bills, cars, groceries, among other things. i don't even halfway understand how insurance on anything even works despite having been shown how it works.

i can see something, be "taught" to the best of someone's ability, and i will still not be able to learn. this has been a constant issue throughout my life, and the american public school system has continually helped these issues perpetuate. all schooling has done is teach me how to parrot back concepts and ideas, remember them for a limited amount of time before losing them to the void, and not how to fundamentally understand and learn them or utilize them in daily life. even higher education was like this, and i was not able to thrive throughout my experience with college despite making mostly okay grades (i cheated and lied a lot, okay. i'm not proud of it but i felt i had to get through or i would be severely punished). i had to a sign an agreement that i personally still do not fully understand to "obtain" my associate's degree, and i do not know why despite the fact it was explained to me, in detail. the information has not registered, and i now no longer have anyone that was involved in said agreement to explain it to me. everyone i say this to is like, "what? that doesn't make any sense." and i'm like. yeah. it doesn't, and i have zero ability to explain it to them in a way that makes sense.

i mention my associate's degree because i am sure in some form or fashion it was used against me in the disability process, since i was "able to complete higher education". also it should be noted i did an early college program. also probably has been used against me. also cheated through most of it.

people have always considered my kind of autism to be hyper competent, since it appeared that way when i was a child, despite showing several signs that i was struggling with a math-centric learning disability, called dyscalculia. i have since deteriorated to the point of barely having the knowledge a young adult should have, about how life works financially and honestly in general.

i have extreme fear about what may happen to me without proper assistance. my guardians will be able to take care of me for some time, but after that? that feels like a black hole to me. it doesn't exist nor will it while i am under-assisted, and this black hole fills me with utter despair. i try not to let it permeate my daily life, so as to not dwell in a future that doesn't exist yet and has the possibility for change. but god. it fills me with literal existential dread, and it is becoming so much more difficult to ignore the older i get.

a lot of factors have been used against me my entire life to deny me assistance, and these reasons being yet another factor has really dredged up a lot of shit from my past.

this is besides the point, but i also learned recently that CSAM was made and distributed of me when i was a child and wow. that has hit me in ways i cannot even describe. part of me is like, why was i not allowed to know after the fact, even when i became an adult? i was directly involved. why did no one tell me my abuser was convicted for counts of spreading CSAM, and that they lied directly to the court system about their inappropriate actions with me? i was disenfranchised in more ways than one by more than one person on allowance of my abuser, and i am just now hearing about it. i don't know how to deal and i don't know how to get started with victim advocacy in my area.

but at the same time, whilst being treated as severely more competent than i am, i have also been infantilized relentlessly, by nearly everyone around me. how does this make any sense. i feel incredibly stupid and uninformed and at the same time privy to things about my disabilities others are not, while not being able to effectively communicate it. i feel i am screaming and begging for help, nearly at my wits end with a lot of things, and all of it is reading as "owie booboo" to anyone who could do anything to help. i feel i am falling through the cracks, and i fear having to crawl back up through them. i fear i won't make the trek. i fear i will lose motivation and let myself rot. it feels like no one in a position of power has taken a true effort to really help me and i cannot help or advocate for myself. i am very scared.

on top of all of that stuff, i am withdrawing pretty heavily from cymbalta, experiencing heightened panic attacks every day, PNES (psychogenic non-epileptic seizures), more episodes of psychosis and hallucinating than i'm used to, all of my mental and physical issues are out of control, and now this disability stuff. i also won't be able to see a psychiatrist for...maybe a week or so more, so no bridge meds till then.

these last couple weeks have just really kicked me down. thank you for reading if you got this far. i appreciate you more than you know and i have no idea where i would be without y'all and this blog. i love you all so very much.

-ish

#ish talks #disability #vent #mental health #CSA mention #CSAM mention #physical disability mention #mental disability mention #psychosis mention #hallucination mention #dyscalculia #neurodivergent #autism #victim advocacy #PNES #ableism

[gimmethatagustd]

venor (epilogue) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 5,502

○ Warnings: Heat sex, what the gworlies call self-lubrication aka slick, Taehyung’s got a big dick (in every universe imo), size difference, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, handjob, unprotected anal sex, scenting, marking, pet names

○ Notes: This is honestly just porn 🫣 If there are errors, no there aren't jshdfks I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains. ANYWAY. THIS IS THE END OF AN ERA. I can't believe I wrote a 79k fic. Who tf am I??

○ Post Date: May 4, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

"You're gonna be fine, dude. I swear, it's not as scary as everyone makes it out to be. When Suyun first—"

Taehyung's phone slips out of his hand and clatters onto the tile floor. He accidentally kicks it halfway across the aisle when he bends down to pick it up. Poor Jackson is still talking on the other line, doling out advice that Taehyung should be listening to.

"Son of a bitch," Taehyung hisses, finally snatching his phone.

"What the fuck, hyung?"

"Sorry, not you. I'm just freaking out, okay? I'm at the grocery store, and I don't know what kind of snacks he wants because he hasn't texted me back in an hour. An hour."

"Hyung, I'm gonna be so real with you right now. He's probably fuck—"

"Nope. Shut the fuck up, Jackson, goodbye."

"Hyung, I just meant that he's probably fine!" 

Jackson is probably right. Jungkook is probably fine. Taehyung is the one who can't pull himself together.

"I'm gonna go…"

Taehyung doesn't wait for Jackson's reply. Grabbing whatever food he thinks Jungkook would like, Taehyung tries to pay for his groceries and leave the store without terrifying the prey hybrids around him with his tunneled focus. Predator hybrids tend to have a certain air of dominance, something natural and usually out of their control. Taehyung does his best to be neutral, to keep himself in check and glide through life as inoffensively as possible. Ironically, he's been told the intentional suppression of his instincts only makes him come off as even more intimidating.

Not to Jungkook, though, who trusts Taehyung more than Taehyung trusts himself.

On Taehyung's way home, he may have run more than one red light. Tickets in the mail will tell him; he can't be fucked to know now. The trip home is a black hole, like whatever floats beyond the dark outer walls of the tunnel he barrels through. Getting from the parking garage to his apartment is no different, just with plastic grocery bag handles digging painful creases into the skin of his forearms as they swing when he shoves his shoulder against the front door. He hates the way it sticks and reminds himself that he needs to buy oil and fix it himself since his good-for-nothing dog of a landlord won't ever do shit.

Living on his own has taught Taehyung a lot about himself, like how he never wants Jungkook to ever have to bruise his shoulder against a door to force it open, even if Jungkook's shoulders are more muscular than his. It has taught him that he gets anxious over choosing the wrong Turtle Chips flavor. That he cares about not leaving the lights on in the apartment — not because he's stingy with the electricity bill as his parents had been, but because it makes it easier to find Jungkook when the apartment is dark and the only lights on are in Taehyung's bedroom. That he hates putting away groceries and would rather drop the bags in the doorway – they're just snacks – and crawl into his bed where a sleeping Jungkook is curled around his pillow.

Living on his own has taught Taehyung that he would rather live with Jungkook.

"Bun," Taehyung murmurs into the crook of Jungkook's neck.

Jungkook is lying on his side, so it's awkward when Taehyung straddles his legs and drapes his body over him, though Taehyung does his best not to crush him. He's sweaty from wearing the baggiest hoodie he could find in Taehyung's closet and wrapping himself in every blanket Taehyung owns despite it being the middle of the summer. His ears are flopped back so he avoids lying on the left-side one, and his face is flushed pink.

This is new for both of them, though in different ways. Jungkook has never had someone to help him through his heat, and Taehyung has never helped someone through their heat. Taehyung has had rut partners — which he knew better than to talk to Jungkook about — but he knows that experience is entirely different. For the past week leading up to the heat, when Jungkook was particularly moody, Taehyung felt dread sit like a rock in his stomach. It weighed him down and churned his insides. He could do nothing to stop the sinking feeling or the fluttering of his heart when he realized there was nothing he could do. Typically, the experienced one of the two, Taehyung, feels like he has been fumbling behind Jungkook as he tries to learn the right way to do… this.

"Why are you on me?" Jungkook asks. Sleep has made him groggy, easily heard in the thick grumble of his voice.

"'Cause I love you."

"Tae."

With a grin, Taehyung nuzzles his face against Jungkook's neck. He knows he's being annoying, but Jungkook smells sweet, and his body is warmer than usual. Taehyung likes it. He likes how rich Jungkook's scent is right here, in the dip of his collarbone, then just a bit north to that invisible spot on his neck that makes Taehyung's mouth water just from thinking about it.

"Tickles," Jungkook mutters and limply swats at Taehyung with closed eyes. His palm is sweaty, too. It sticks to Taehyung's cheek when he tries forcing his face away, but Taehyung presses further, purring.

"Hmm, you smell good."

Taehyung's tail wraps around Jungkook's wrist and pulls his hand away. Accepting defeat, Jungkook lets his arm flop back onto the bed.

"I'm trying to sleep, Tae."

Jungkook is so cute, with one side of his face smushed into his pillow, squishing his cheek and forcing him to talk through a pout that accentuates his bunny teeth. Taehyung wants to eat him. He can feel the wild, feral thing that crawls inside his chest and turns his brain fuzzy whenever Jungkook gets like this, all soft and pliant. It's worse now because of Jungkook's heat. All Taehyung has to do is gently flick his tongue against Jungkook's scent gland, and he immediately smells the sweet spike of Jungkook's slick. There's nothing that makes Taehyung feel more powerful than the smell of Jungkook's arousal.

Jungkook gives up on pushing Taehyung away and tries to shimmy deeper into the blankets to hide his sensitive neck from Taehyung's teasing.

"Taehyung, leave me alone," Jungkook whines.

The logical, human part of Taehyung's brain understands that Jungkook is irritable because Taehyung has just woken him up from a heavy nap when his body is weak. The emotional, animal part of Taehyung's brain cowers from the blatant rejection.

Slowly, he climbs off of Jungkook and scoots until he's sitting at the foot of the bed. His heart thumps in his throat as fiercely as his tail thumps against the bed.

"Okay…" Taehyung says softly, but Jungkook is already asleep again.

Ears flattened in his messy copper hair and his tail dragging behind him, Taehyung gathers the grocery bags he left in the bedroom doorway and takes them into the kitchen. If Jungkook doesn't want him around, he supposes he'll just do all the chores he has neglected since Jungkook began staying over. It has been a little over a week; Jungkook didn't want to bother Yoongi with his pre-heat symptoms in their dorm, considering they have to share a bedroom. The plan was to let Jungkook take Taehyung's apartment for himself, and Taehyung would stay with his appa until Jungkook's heat passed. Deciding to spend Jungkook's heat together came later. 

It's one of the many benefits of graduating early and living independently; Taehyung doesn't have to worry about silly university rules that ban predator and prey hybrids from cohabitating.

Taehyung tidies up the kitchen, vaguely aware that he hasn't eaten since the morning. It's evening now, and the sun is slipping low into the sky, painting the sky in golds and pinks as pretty as Jungkook's flushed skin. Earlier, Jungkook admitted that he thought his heat would finally hit by the end of the day.

On the stove, Taehyung reheats miyeokguk and thinks about his eomma as he stirs the soup, savoring the garlic aroma that fills the kitchen. He remembers his appa making it for her after she had Jiae and during the week every few months when he and Jiae stayed at their aunt's house so their parents could have appa and eomma time. It's been years since Taehyung stayed with his aunt for appa and eomma time. Now, he's old enough to have his own version of such a week. He just hopes Jungkook likes miyeokguk, too.

Taehyung stands at the kitchen counter as he eats his bowl of miyeokguk and contemplates if he should shower. He was at work for the greater part of the day, organizing plans for an art restoration exhibit at the Seoul Museum of Art. Or he could call Jackson. He could ask Jackson if Suyun has ever rejected him during her heat. He could ask if the hollow feeling in his chest will ever go away or if this means he and Jungkook aren't compatible. Will Jungkook want him at all? Should Taehyung leave? 

With trembling hands, Taehyung sets his bowl down and grabs the edge of the counter, forcing himself to take a deep breath because, with his chest growing tighter, he can feel himself starting to panic. If Jungkook asks him to leave, he will, but he thinks he might throw up first.

Closing his eyes, Taehyung counts backward from ten, then from twenty, then considers starting at one hundred because his tail is wrapped so tightly around his calf that he's cutting off his own circulation, and the miyeokguk is slithering up his throat.

Taehyung inhales sharply when a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and a rounded chin presses into his shoulder. Jungkook's scent envelops him like a weighted blanket, pressing down on his discomfort until he feels warm and secure. He gives into the sensation, leaning against Jungkook's chest, still careful not to overwhelm him or knock him over with his weight.

"What's wrong, Tae?"

With his eyes still closed, Taehyung turns his head to the side so his lips brush against the curve of Jungkook's plump cheek.

"You don't want me." Taehyung knows he sounds petulant, but he can't clear the panic in his head to make room for complex, meaningful sentences. "I made miyeokguk."

Jungkook giggles, and Taehyung feels like collapsing under the pressure of getting this right.

"I just didn't want to get up. Of course, I want you."

Rising on his tiptoes, Jungkook kisses the little beauty mark on Taehyung's nose. He steps out of reach when Taehyung tries to grab for him, his socks slipping on the tile floor.

"Are you sure?" Taehyung can't help but ask, fully aware of how eager and pathetic he sounds. Jungkook's cheeks are pretty pink, and he's wearing nothing but Taehyung's hoodie. His muscular legs are on display, so squeezable and biteable.

Taehyung wants to eat him.

Jungkook must notice Taehyung's interest — which is always held in Taehyung's wild, dark eyes no matter how hard he tries to be calm — because his response is merely a coy smile. 

Where did Jungkook learn how to act like this? Certainly not from Taehyung. 

The look Jungkook gives Taehyung is one he's never seen on him before. He grabs Taehyung's wrist to pull himself close and looks up at Taehyung with sparkly doe eyes damp at the corners like Jungkook may start crying. The tip of Jungkook's tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, and Taehyung feels like he's going to pass out when Jungkook brings Taehyung's hand to cup his hard cock over his oversized hoodie. 

"I don't feel good, Tae," Jungkook whispers into Taehyung's shoulder, where he nuzzles his face to breathe in Taehyung's scent. 

Taking another deep breath, Taehyung tries not to let his voice tremble when he asks, "Why? What doesn't feel good?" 

Jungkook gently pushes his hips forward to rub himself against Taehyung's hand. Taehyung's t-shirt muffles the quiet little whimper he makes when Taehyung doesn't do anything. It isn't his fault; Taehyung can barely breathe. Jackson didn't tell him that Jungkook would feel discomfort like this. 

"Bun, what did you say? I can't hear you with your face like that," Taehyung asks weakly. 

Jungkook lifts his head to stare at Taehyung with glossy eyes. His cheeks are nearly red now, deepening from the light pink he was before. Taehyung can't tell if he's going to start crying, but panic swells in his chest from the thought of it. He's supposed to be taking care of Jungkook, not making him cry. 

"Need you, Tae, please."

"Shit," Taehyung curses, removing his hand from Jungkook to instead run it through his own hair. He looks around the kitchen as if the fucking dishwasher is going to tell him what to do. Of course, Taehyung knows what to do. He's just scared. Big, confident Kim Taehyung is scared. 

"Taehyung," Jungkook whines as he tugs on the hem of Taehyung's t-shirt, "Hyung, please." 

Eyes growing wide, Taehyung stares at Jungkook, who seems desperately annoyed by how long he's taking to act on his demands. Jungkook has never called Taehyung hyung before. Prey hybrids rarely use such friendly honorifics with predator hybrids. There is too much generational hurt between the two groups, especially in rural areas like Jungkook's hometown, where prey hybrids are still treated as less than. Many of Taehyung's friends, like Hoseok, encourage the terms across the groups to normalize friendships between them. Taehyung never thought much of it until he started courting Jungkook and realized it felt strange to never hear it — not because he wanted to assert his age onto Jungkook, but to feel the sense of closeness he gets to have with his younger predator hybrid friends. 

Taehyung wipes his clammy hands on his jeans and grabs Jungkook's face, tilting his head back to slot their lips together. They haven't kissed since this morning. It hasn't been long, but Taehyung feels like it's been centuries. He pulls Jungkook's bottom lip into his mouth and nibbles on it like he needs his kisses to survive. He acts like breathing beyond just panting into each other's mouths doesn't matter like the only thing he needs to survive is the sound of Jungkook moaning when he sucks on Taehyung's tongue. They keep kissing as Taehyung steps forward, following Jungkook until he has Jungkook trapped against the counter. 

"Hyung will fix it, okay?" Taehyung says softly once they pull away, his heart swelling when Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fist and nods. 

Jungkook is so sweet, with pretty doe eyes and such kissable lips. Taehyung can't imagine what he has done to be blessed with such a boy in his life. More often than not, he doesn't feel he deserves Jungkook.  

Taehyung pushes up the hem of Jungkook's hoodie, bunching it in his hand and holding it against his stomach near his belly button. With it out of the way, he realizes Jungkook isn't wearing anything underneath. Jungkook's cock glistens in the kitchen's fluorescent lighting, shiny at the tip from so much precum that Taehyung's hand easily glides down the length when he grabs it. 

"Is this better, bun?" Taehyung is sure it is, but he wants to ask just in case.

“Mhmm,” Jungkook nods. He has an iron grip on Taehyung's biceps to keep him close, even though they both know Taehyung isn't going anywhere. His breath tickles as he presses his lips against Taehyung's throat.

Jackson told Taehyung that talking Jungkook through his heat would help him know what Jungkook likes so he can better take care of Jungkook as they spend more together. The dirty, arrogant side of Taehyung thinks it's kind of hot, too. He tries to channel that part of himself as he fists Jungkook's cock. It only takes a few twists of his wrist when he reaches the head as he slides up his cock for Jungkook to cum. To Taehyung's surprise, Jungkook bites him when he does, sinking his blunt teeth into the base of Taehyung's neck and digging his nails into his biceps. 

"Fuck," Taehyung hisses, stumbling forward to close the distance between them and ease the pain of Jungkook's grip on him. "Baby, relax." 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Jungkook's chapped lips leave kisses where his teeth will likely leave a bruise. 

Taehyung wipes the cum off his hand onto Jungkook's hoodie. It's gross, but they will be even more disgusting by the end of the week, so Taehyung can't find it in himself to care. He's more worried about how Jungkook biting him made his cock jump in his jeans. 

"Baby, come on. Let's go to my room, okay?" 

Taehyung tries to coax Jungkook out of the kitchen, but it's difficult when Jungkook won't let go of him. Jungkook noses at his neck, scenting him despite having done so thoroughly that morning before Taehyung went to work. Taehyung supposes he smells different now after being around so many people throughout the day. It's sweet and triggers a smattering of goosebumps across his skin, subtle physical indications of Jungkook's love painted around his throat. 

It takes too long to get to Taehyung's bedroom, but once they do, Jungkook behaves just as Taehyung expected him to after listening to Jackson's advice. He doesn't even bother removing his hoodie; he just climbs into bed on his forearms and knees, and Taehyung feels like he's going to die. Embarrassment floods Taehyung as he fumbles with his clothing, nearly tripping when his foot gets caught in the leg of his jeans. Jungkook doesn't even care how much of a mess Taehyung is. His head hangs low as his limbs tremble, likely with anticipation, though it could be discomfort. Taehyung doesn't feel good about keeping him waiting, even if he's still nervous as hell. 

Once he's fully naked, Taehyung kneels on the bed behind Jungkook and positions his legs where he needs them to be. They rarely have sex like this; they're too romantic, preferring to look at each other. Still, Taehyung has enough experience in this position to know Jungkook's arms might give out, so he places a pillow under his hips, just in case. 

"Are you sure you want to do it like this, bun? Or would you rather turn around so you can—" 

"Taehyung, fuck me right now," Jungkook snaps, though it doesn't come off as aggressive as it could because he sounds like he's on the verge of tears again. 

"Okay, baby, I will, I promise. It's okay," Taehyung rushes to reassure him. 

He rubs his hands up Jungkook's back to push his hoodie away so he can get a better view of his tiny waist and the cute little fluffy tail at the base of his spine. He drags his hands around Jungkook's sides to run his fingers over his nipples, swirling them until they turn hard, and Jungkook moans with his mouth pressed against his forearm. 

Such a weak, debauched sound causes Taehyung to be immediately overtaken by the sudden urge to pin Jungkook into the bed. It's like his veins turn to fire, burning him from the inside with a hot need that pulses through him. It makes him want to have his way with Jungkook, as hard and as fast as he wants to, with bared teeth and fingers digging into his warm, soft flesh. Sometimes, Taehyung scares himself with how visceral his feelings are toward Jungkook, like some kind of extreme cute aggression. He loves Jungkook so much he wants to smother him, to squeeze him and kiss him and fuck him until he's ruined. 

Then Jungkook turns his head to look back at Taehyung with kaleidoscope eyes, and the wild animal inside of Taehyung melts into a puddle, and all that's left is this goopy, disgusting need to drown himself in Jungkook's gentleness.

Taehyung latches onto that gentle feeling when he grinds the length of his cock between Jungkook's cheeks, slicking himself up before he slowly presses the tip against Jungkook's rim. It pops in easily with how wet and pliable Jungkook is from his heat, but Taehyung won't let that wild side overcome him. This is about Jungkook. Taehyung isn't here to pleasure himself; he's here to take care of the love of his life, his future mate. His little bun trembles as Taehyung lightly presses his fingers against the soft spots where his thighs crease at his hip bones, coaxing him backward. 

"Feel good?" Taehyung asks softly as Jungkook rocks his hips back to ease more of Taehyung's cock inside him. 

"So good," Jungkook moans, much quieter than usual, like he barely has the energy to say anything. He keeps his eyes closed and breathes heavily through his mouth, each exhale growing shakier the closer he gets to taking Taehyung's cock completely. 

"You're so pretty, bun. How are you this fucking perfect? You're incredible." 

Jungkook isn't facing Taehyung, so he can't see Jungkook's expression, but he hears him grumble as he shakes his head.

"I'm not," Jungkook whispers, and Taehyung knows him well enough to guess how hard he's blushing. 

"Don't argue with me, Jeon Jungkook," Taehyung challenges with a light smack of Jungkook's ass, soft enough that it doesn't leave a mark but hard enough for Jungkook's body to jolt.  

Taehyung is quiet, too, though his subdued behavior is his way of trying to keep calm. Jungkook is even wetter and tighter than usual. When Jungkook leans forward and then falls back on his cock again, Taehyung has to squeeze his hips to stop him from moving. 

"Taehyung, please," Jungkook whines and tries to wiggle out of Taehyung's grasp, which only further stimulates his cock. "You're teasing me. It's not nice."

"Baby, stop, stop," Taehyung says, wrapping his arm around Jungkook's waist. "Just give me a second, okay?" 

They're both panting even though they've hardly done anything yet. Taehyung rests his forehead against the middle of Jungkook's back and focuses on regulating his breathing. He feels like a teenager losing his virginity, but he can't let himself cum first. If he does, he'll fuck everything up. There's no way for Taehyung to know how many times Jungkook will cum during his heat. On an average day, Taehyung has gotten him up to three. Although there are many other ways for Taehyung to satisfy Jungkook without penetrative sex, he knows from Jackson that those alternatives won't be as fulfilling for Jungkook. 

Straightening up, Taehyung wraps his hands around Jungkook's slim waist and admires how big he feels when he holds Jungkook. It's not about dominating him, though Taehyung would be a liar if he said he doesn't like how submissive Jungkook is in bed. He really just likes to feel big because it makes him feel useful like he can take care of Jungkook by putting in work so Jungkook doesn't have to. This is especially true now when it's clear that Jungkook's heat is making him sluggish and horny. He barely holds himself up as Taehyung pulls him onto his cock, this time with more force than before. Taehyung lifts Jungkook's hips slightly to angle him in a way that he knows will ensure he's hitting Jungkook's prostate with each thrust. Taehyung has spent plenty of time learning Jungkook's body; he knows how to position Jungkook to make him feel good. Confirmation is nice, though, and he gets it in the form of Jungkook finally wailing. 

"Oh my god," Jungkook sobs, digging his fingers into the bed sheet to hold himself in place as Taehyung's hips snap against his ass. “Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung.” 

"I know." 

"Oh, fuck." 

"I know, baby," Taehyung groans, adjusting his grip on Jungkook's waist.

He tries not to think too hard about how good Jungkook feels, especially when Jungkook cums for the second time, and his muscles flutter and constrict around Taehyung's cock. He lets the throbbing subside and focuses instead on how beautiful Jungkook is, all splayed out. His shoulders are strong, with muscles rippling every time he shifts his position. Sweat has made his bangs stick to his forehead, and the rest of his hair fluff up, even turning his bunny ears fuzzy. How Jungkook can be so fucking hot while also cute is beyond Taehyung's comprehension. All Taehyung knows is that, when Jungkook's arms eventually give out and he lies with one side of his face pressed into the mattress so Taehyung can admire how sexy Jungkook is with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth hanging open as he moans loudly, he would give anything to stay with Jungkook for the rest of his life. Anything at all. 

Jungkook cums two more times before Taehyung can't hold off any longer. His body screams at him to stop, not just because his cock throbs but because his muscles are sore and he's dehydrated from all the sweating he's doing. Taehyung eases Jungkook fully onto his stomach, hiking up one of Jungkook's knees to spread him open so he can fuck him deeper. He presses his hands into the mattress at Jungkook's sides and drops his head so he can kiss him. It's bumpy and sloppy, hardly a kiss at all, but neither of them cares.

"One more for me, bun," Taehyung's lips brush along the apple of Jungkook's cheek. Pulling away, he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and tastes the salt of Jungkook's tears. "You gotta give me one more." 

"I can't," Jungkook complains through a broken moan as Taehyung quickens the pace of his thrusts. 

"I think my baby can, for me. My sweet, precious baby."

Jungkook ducks his face into the crook of his arm, and Taehyung laughs. 

"Aw, don't hide from me, baby," Taehyung presses down on Jungkook's waist, holding him in place. He's tighter like this, and Taehyung feels his orgasm starting to make him spiral. "You're so fucking sexy, you know that? God, I love fucking you. You're so tight and wet, and you sound so pretty when you scream my name."

Jungkook is a moaning, trembling mess that only spurs Taehyung on. Taehyung's going to cum; there's no way he can stop himself any longer. He's been edging himself the whole time, forcing them to stop moving every time he gets that pulse that shoots up his cock. His rhythm gets thrown off, even as he tries to hold it together a little longer. 

"Jungkook-ah," he calls out through gritted teeth. 

They meet each other's gaze, both exhausted and disgusting, but Jungkook's beauty is so raw that it hurts Taehyung's heart. 

"I love you," Jungkook's bottom lip pops when he releases it from his teeth to speak. Taehyung wants to bite him so badly. 

"I love you too, bun." 

There's a trick Taehyung has learned, a little button he knows to push when he needs a surefire way to get Jungkook off. He times it right this time so that Taehyung cums as he runs his fingers through Jungkook's fluffy little tail and tugs on it hard. 

Jungkook's moan is mixed with a surprised yelp, and his body reacts exactly how Taehyung wants it to. He cums for the fourth time quivering underneath Taehyung, who has slowed to a gentle grind of his hips that he rides out until he's too sensitive to handle the grip Jungkook has on him. 

"Shit," Taehyung huffs across Jungkook's face as he hangs his head. His arms tremble, but he keeps himself upright so he doesn't crush Jungkook with his weight.

They're sweaty and covered in slick and cum, but neither care. Taehyung can only focus on how content Jungkook looks when he rolls onto his back and opens his arms so Taehyung can lower himself until he's snuggled against Jungkook's chest. He feels their heartbeats slow down together, matching each other like their breathing does until they're in harmony in more ways than one. 

When Taehyung was younger, and his eomma gave him her bracelet, he never understood what she meant about saving it for someone special. He worried he wouldn't know how to tell if someone was special enough for his eomma. How could anyone compare to the woman who gave him life? Who raised and cherished him, and showed him what a truly special person could be? 

Jungkook sifts through Taehyung's curls to scratch at his tiger ears, making Taehyung involuntarily purr and the tip of his tail flick as it always does when he's happy. 

"Was it okay for you? Was I too much?" Jungkook asks, his lips brushing Taehyung's forehead. He's so gentle. As a predator hybrid, no one has ever been gentle with Taehyung. No one but Jungkook. 

"You could never be too much," Taehyung insists, tilting his head to look at Jungkook. "I had fun, actually. We could make this a game. See how many times I can make you cum before I do. We could keep a tally on the refrigerator whiteboard every day and count the total at the end of your heat." 

Jungkook scrunches his nose, and Taehyung can't stop himself from grinning boxy, the way Jungkook likes it. 

"Why are you always so gross? Everything you say is nasty all the time."

"You can't tell me that wouldn't be fun." 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he smiles that cute little bunny smile that makes Taehyung want to give it all up for him.

“I love you, Jungkook. I love you in kind of an insane way,” Taehyung admits as he crawls off the bed slowly because his body hurts and he can’t feel his legs. 

He’s unsure if Jungkook is blushing from his heat or his confession, probably a little bit of both, but it doesn’t matter. It’s cute, Jungkook is cute, everything is perfect and wonderful. Taehyung keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something bad to happen. Love doesn’t last forever — not in a corporeal sense. Life has taught him that. But he also knows he can’t let the grief of death haunt him, or else he’ll miss out on having Jungkook in the present. 

“An insane way?” Jungkook asks, a little bit cocky because he has learned that from Taehyung over the past year, and he lets Taehyung pull him out of bed. 

“Mhm.”

“Should I be worried about that?” 

With a grunt, Taehyung grabs Jungkook by his thighs, wrapping his arms just under his butt, and hoists him over his shoulder.

“Maybe,” Taehyung smirks even if Jungkook can’t see it and slaps Jungkook’s ass when he grumbles about him being a problem child.

Taehyung sets Jungkook down on the bathroom counter, leaving him with his legs swinging while he starts a warm bath. Taehyung even grabs the Epsom salt from the cabinet to add to the bath and feels very adult about it for some reason. Taking care of Jungkook like this gives Taehyung a strong sense of responsibility.

“Oh fuck,” Taehyung whips his head around to stare at Jungkook from where he stands bent over the bath to check the temperature. He points at Jungkook. “You!” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “Me what?”

“You didn’t eat anything, bun! We’ve been fucking for hours, and you didn’t eat anything!”

Covering his face with his hands, Jungkook lets out a sound like a squeak that Taehyung doesn’t know how to interpret. 

“Can you not say that? It’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung frowns. “That you didn’t eat?”

Jungkook peeks from behind his fingers and shows enough of his face that Taehyung can tell he’s glaring at him with his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Tae, no. Don’t talk about us… having sex for hours.”

“Fucking,” Taehyung repeats with a grin when Jungkook squeaks again. “I was fucking you, Jungkook, for hours. Fucking you within an inch of your life, actually.” 

Blatantly avoiding Taehyung, Jungkook hops down from the counter and steps into the bath. He tries to close the shower curtain before Taehyung can get in. 

“You are out of control.” 

It’s no use, though. Taehyung is quick and lacks most preservation instincts, so he nearly busts his ass as he slips into the bathtub with Jungkook, splashing water all over the walls and onto the floor. It doesn’t matter; his antics make Jungkook giggle, and Taehyung only cares about that. 

Taehyung sits in the bathtub with his legs spread so Jungkook can sit between them and lean his back on Taehyung’s chest. They probably don’t have a ton of time before Jungkook’s heat starts making him a horny devil again, but for now, Taehyung will bathe and feed him and cuddle him until he sleeps or needs more. Whatever it is, Taehyung is ready to give Jungkook his best. 

So, yeah, Taehyung is whipped. He lets Jungkook tilt his head back to kiss the beauty mark on the tip of his nose, and then he kisses the little mole on the side of Jungkook's neck, and yeah, Taehyung is so fucking whipped. He wouldn't have it any other way. 

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

#taehyung x jungkook #taekook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #taekook fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic #gimmethatagustd #venor #jai writes

[wadebae]

[copy pasta post because OP needed to turn off reblogs due to harassment. Another person asked them about doing this and they said it's fine, they just can't personally handle the harassment right now. These are not my words. Not giving credit solely to protect OP's inbox. Reblog or don't, but I wanted this on my blog.]

I have been noodling over posting this for several days but I think it's important for some people to hear.

At a March on Saturday, at a pro Palestine march, my group and I were targeted by by nazis. Not targeted for violence, but targeted for recruitment. They weren't wearing swastikas, they weren't spewing blatant antisemitic hate speech. They seemed like two normal dudes. They marched with us, talked about how awful everything in Palestine was, how we wished world leaders would grow a pair and hold Israel responsible for fucking war crimes, how existing in the world right now was hard. They were empathetic, they were kind, they seemed like genuine good dudes.

Until we passed a synagogue where people were handing our water to marchers. They had signs defending Palestine on their table. But the tone of the conversation changed. These two seemingly normal dudes started talking about how "performative" the gesture felt, that Jewish people should be doing more. That they needed to PROVE it. They started talking about "Zionist" propaganda in the US, about how it was deeply entrenched in capitalism. Things that, on the surface, seemed reasonable but it set off alarm bells in my head.

When I was a kid, I remember getting the speech of "don't repeat anything your uncle or cousin so and so says and don't argue with them. Try to avoid them but if you can't be polite." Because those uncles and cousins said a lot of hateful things about anyone who wasn't like them, but their favorite targets were black people and Jewish people. I would find out as an adult it was because many of those uncles and cousins were in the Klan. When I studied hate symbols for a class in college, I found my self looking at images I'd seen on arms and necks and hands my whole life, because I live in an area of the US where the KKK is still around. And standing in that crowd, listening to these guys talk, i had the most horrible realization I've had in a long time.

We were being fished by Nazis. We were a group of able body, white American leftists. At a march in support of stopping the murder and genocide of Palestinians, these motherfuckers were out here, trying to find people they could get to hate Jewish folks. I wasn't the only one in my group who clocked it, and when we called them on it, the masks came off. They called us a bunch of "Jew loving bitches" before they moved on.

But we're marched with these guys for a couple hours, talked with them, laughed with them, brought them into our circle. For a moment we forgot we also weren't immune to propaganda, we weren't immune to people who make hate sound reasonable and that people like that never start out saying the quiet part out loud, they lean on your anger and your sense of helplessness to move you where they want you. If the last eight years has taught us anything, it's that fascists know how to adjust to the times, to work with what they got, to recruit. They know how to radicalize people, how to weaponize anger and helplessness. And I'm sitting here, every day, seeing posts that sound exactly like these guys did and it worries me.

I know I'm talking to the No Reading Comprehension Website, but I'm begging you guys to develop some now.

You are not immune to propaganda. We are all angry, as we fucking should be. We are watching an entire culture, thousands of lives, whole bloodlines, being wiped out in real time, and for many of us our nations are at best, wringing their hands, and at worst, shipping them weapons, all to protect capitalist greed. It's monstrous, it's disgusting. But look, REALLY LOOK, at the things you are tweeting, sharing, look at the language and how it's used. Take the time to educate yourself about how hate groups use social justice causes and civil unrest to recruit, research the posts your spreading, check your sources. If you are out protesting, be situationally aware, and do not be afraid to clock and call out Nazis. Listen to Jewish people, listen to their concerns, educate yourself on what Zionism and antisemitism actually are and how they can be weaponized. It doesn't feel as good as rage, it doesn't feel as good as having a group you can functionally rail against in a way we can't against a nation a world away, but it's a skill that's going to help you and a lot of other people in the long run.

#palestine #israel #antisemitism #neonazis #if you see someone who cannot support palestine #without hating jewish people #run don't walk

[silksongeveryday]

I’ll start with, I love your art style, it’s really great, but we’re you ever taught or did you just kinda start?

Thanks!! :D

And I was kind of taught a bit??? Not much. I took a three month college art course in high school but they only really covered the basics.

Besides that I just kind of started. Though to be fair, “start” was more like 9 years ago now. Most of what I know is self taught or learned through tutorial videos and all that.

The daily doodles I post here are a poor representation of my art style anyway. I actually draw human/humanoid characters with long in-depth stories the most, though since this blog isn’t dedicated to that, I haven’t really talked about that art much.

#ssed asks

[goddess-mixmi]

Tokyo Revengers Oc’s (repost)

Misa Takahashi

She’s half black (Jamaican) on her mother’s side and Asian on her father’s, her father left when she’s was about 2-3 and her mother remarried but she and her brother never liked him. She use to get bullied for her need like tendencies and the fact she looked different which lead her to be a crybaby, until she met Rina. And soon the rest of the Toman guys, she watched them fight and Gou and her older cousin Trevor taught her to fight. She soon snapped when the boys that bullied her targeted her again and beat the shit outta if the main one, from then on she was told never to cry again by Baji and Kazutora. She is apart of Toman and is considered a founding member alongside her best friend but she wasnt able to join at the time but was considered the “little sister” of the group by Draken. She is in a specialized division made up of only two people called “The Toman Divas” the only female centered devision in Toman, and their fight styles are not to be underestimated. She is quite smart for her age thus she got bumped up a grade in school but that never mattered to her step dad who praised her brother more for being a prodigy.

Misa is the vice captain in the two woman devision and in a romantic relationship with Keisuke Baji. Her fighting style is inspired by “Black Widow” her favorite marvel comic character.She is the twin sister of Tetta Kisaki (or Kisaki Tetta). Whether or not she’s the older or younger twin is a mystery to many. Not many people believed that Kisaki is her twin brother since they look nothing alike and because she has a different last name than him. “Takahashi” is her mother’s maiden name upon moving to japan but when it’s revealed by Kisaki that Misa is his sister many Toman members were fairly shocked. She also has a very complicated dating life (based on recent posts)

But is she on Kisaki’s side since she’s his sister?

Rina (Rinnah) Matsuoka

She’s 15 and born on November 18th and stands about 5’5 1/2, her family moved to japan when her mom remarried. But don’t let her girly girl looks fool you, she’s one kick ass tomboy founding member of Toman and Misa’s best friend. She is the “Toman Divas” devision captain and she has a knack for putting other members in their places when they act insubordinate. She’s taken self defense classes since she was a child and she then was able to pair it with Misa as the fight together.

In her first appearance she looks rather masc than feminine since she doesn’t wear makeup to meetings. Her and Misa are the only two women devision in Toman and they are unstoppable together. Rina knows when and where to keep it classy and when to fight, other than that she’s an absolute tease (especially to Misa) and is always thinking about cute boys. One of which is Chifuyu who so happens to have a crush on her.

Gouske Matsuoka (Gou)

He’s about 28 in the year 2005 when the events take place, he’s Rina’s older brother and worked at S.S Motors with his best friend Shinichiro Sano. He was almost recruited to join Black Dragon under Shinichiro and was supposed to be third commander with Takeomi but placed as a leader of an other special attack unit since his fighting skills were more so unbeatable but declined his offer and rather focus on easier tasks while he was still attending school, besides he promised his late father to only protect his family with his strength. Eventually he caved and joined for a short while and he was the best fighter there was according to Shinichiro. He is very well educated on all the gangs in Japan and often informs newbies on them. After Shinichiro passed he decided to continue college and joined a swim team. He looks out for the Sano’s here and there and looks out for Misa.

When the Tenjiku battle comes he returns to Tokyo just to find out his sister and best friend have went missing and went to hell and back just to save them. He was called the “Black Panther” of Black Dragon because his fighting style was almost animalistic.

Ericka Mashima-Bryant

Born February 19th 1978, standing about 5’6 and considered to be the eldest member of Tenjiku but her title is the “Fiery Tactician” due to her wisdom on fighting styles and techniques. She‘a mainly known as “Roppongi’s Siren” because her looks and beautiful yet hypnotic voice lured men in before she beats them up. She is American born but her mother is Japanese and her father a former very popular rapper back in the day. But when he had Ericka after her triplet older brothers (Maeda, Zion and Ezra) the dad had to put a halt on his already growing career for a while. They moved to japan so the mom can be closer to family, as her older brothers they taught her how to fight. She had trouble fitting in because she was a foreigner but also because she has self confidence issues due to her birthmarks, little did she know each birthmark conveyed a reason to why she was so knowledgeable and compassionate. Young Kakucho has a bit of a crush on her because she was so incredibly kind to him. She is best friends with Izana’s girlfriend Ashanti.

But nonetheless she knows how to fight and one fateful day she caught the eye of Ran Haitani and his younger brother Rindou Haitani when she was beating up a guy who inappropriately touched her. Ran called out causing her to stop and crouched downward to her level and forced her to look at him with one hand and called her “beautiful yet vicious” and decided he wanted her to be his. From then on she joined them in their rule over Roppongi and followed them where ever they went, even moved in with them. She’s not really a blonde but she had her hair dyed before meeting Ran, though his charismatic personality cause a bit of hiccups in their relationship but Ran always reminded her when ever they argued that she “belongs to him” hence why she wears the other earring he wears. Though he had a change of heart after his arrest making sure he’d show her just how important she is to him.

{With and Without Coat}

Ashanti Adekunle

Born June 20th 1987, 18, stands at 5’2 is the daughter of Ghanaian woman and Nigerian father, her mom passed from an illness. Her dad was a very successful businessman who often donated to charities like hospitals, foster care and more, he even took Ashanti to a foster care center. That’s when she met Izana and Kakucho, Izana seemed to like her a lot that he asked her to hang out with him so she begged her dad to drop her off often. Her dad was still suffering over his wife’s death and started becoming distant, it pained Ashanti to see this and often stayed out more. Izana was surprisingly supportive of her situation and said she can be his Queen in his new empire he was building, that was his confession to her and they started dating. She’s besties with Ericka and helps her out with her relationship with Ran. She adores fashion and is studying to be a fashion designer, when she was given the opportunity to study abroad Izana told her to go for it. And like that she left promising to call every day and said she will be back soon. Little did she know her boyfriend would be dead when she returned. On top of that she was pregnant with his child.

Tianna Williams

She’s is Misa’s cousin and the younger sister of Trevor. She’s set to be Kazutora’s girlfriend. She met him when she was visiting one summer when they were young and hadn’t seen each other for a while. And kinda lost contact when he got locked up, in the future the two of them are dating. After Kisaki’s death she comes to live with Misa and her mother alongside Trevor. In one timeline she joins Toman’s 2nd generation to take down the kanto manji gang and in the final timeline apart of Toman.

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