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a-world-in-grey · 2 years

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Sola/Calling for Rain III

The next part! Had this sitting in my docs for a while, but @secret-engima’s recent updates gave me the motivation to finish this part up.

“You do not wish to continue your shinobi career?”

The girl standing across from his desk gives him a pointed look of skepticism. It's odd, Hiruzen muses, to see a jounin so expressive. Shinobi who reach that rank reflexively mask their thoughts and feelings behind a façade, the consequences of so many years of rigid self-control around those they don't trust completely.

Hiruzen would think Kusa pushed young Kyoho's promotion for the prestige of having their own 'prodigy,' but no. Hawk-taicho, Ibiki, and Jiraiya's reports of Kyoho refute that idea.

Uzumaki Kyoho, it seems, is simply not a reserved person.

It seems to be a persistent Uzumaki trait.

"Does it matter?" Kyoho says after Hiruzen lets the question stand. "Your shinobi won't trust me."

Hiruzen acknowledges that point with a hum. Kyoho is right, none of the jounin or chuunin will trust her for at least a couple years. Hiruzen won't trust her for a couple years, not enough to give her access as an active Konoha jounin. "What do you plan to do then?"

The jounin is in civilian clothing. Sturdy black shorts and a high collar shirt in brilliant orange, yellow, blue. Her arms and shoulders are bare, displaying the cloud and wave patterned tattoos in stark black ink on her forearms and the wing-like tattoo peeking out on her shoulders. A black bandana with gold and blue and orange wave embroidery replaces the hitai-ate formerly keeping her hair out of her face.

It's a stark difference to the black, grey, and green of her shinobi gear. He'd wonder if Naruto had an influence on the color choice, but Kyoho has yet to meet Naruto or reunite with her sister.

Kyoho shrugs. "Get a job. Not going to make the kids support me."

That would be difficult for two genin to do. Even with three - Hiruzen has no doubt Sasuke would help - the fact of the matter is genin salaries are too small to support more than a single person. Naruto may become a chuunin in the coming weeks, but Karin won't be eligible for a promotion until her year of probation as a former foreign shinobi is over.

Karin has expressed an interest in working as a medic-nin in the interim, which will at least provide a steady pay that mission-work lacks. Her application isn't likely to be denied. The hospital is delighted at the prospect of a medic with Uzumaki-level chakra reserves and Hiruzen has no doubt his Head Medic will murder anyone who steals Karin away from them.

The Head Medic would take Kyoho in a heart beat if Hiruzen allowed it. Jounin medic-nin don't just land on their doorstep fully trained. Hiruzen will have to deny them though - at least until he's certain Kyoho isn't an infiltrator.

"Have you considered earning your Fuuinjutsu Mastery?" A fuuinjutsu apprentice, to pass her unique sealing style on to those of Konoha.

Kyoho eyes him. "I have to teach, right?" Hiruzen nods. There's also a level of skill expected, but Jiraiya's report provided ample detail of Kyoho's competence.

She frowns, fingers tapping out a restless rhythm against her thigh. "I'm teaching Karin already. Anyone else…" She shrugs. "I can try. If they don't believe it won't matter."

Ho? "Believe?" Hiruzen asks.

"I invoke my clan's gods. Without belief in their power, the seals won't work." Kyoho pauses, then fixes him with a pointed look. "Or they'll explode."

Yes, Hiruzen is aware of that particular hazard of fuuinjutsu. "Can your seals be adapted to another style?" Even if they can't get her teleportation seal, the regeneration or chakra storage or even the poison filter would be worth the gamble of stealing the Kusa jounin.

"Maybe?" Hiruzen can practically see the gears turning in Kyoho's mind as she thinks it over. "Theoretically it's possible to adapt any seal to another style. In practice you have to understand both your own and the other style well enough to understand how the seal works. Which is horrendously difficult and time-intensive even if you know the person who created it and what their thought process was, because there are a hundred different variables to take into account-" Kyoho cuts herself off. "Not by myself." She says firmly.

Hiruzen tucks away his surprise at the sudden deluge and makes a mental note to recommend Kyoho to Research and Development. Kyoho said as many words in her tangent as the entire conversation before it.

"I'll compile a list of potential students for you to meet after the Chuunin Exams conclude." And leave notes behind for his successor if the worst should come to pass. Hiruzen doesn't know what his traitorous student plans, but it will happen then. Hiruzen is sure of it. "Until then, you and Jiraiya-kun can teach each other."

Jiraiya has plenty of free time after Naruto dismissed his training in favor of Team Aoba's. Unfortunate, but Team Aoba is running Naruto through his paces so Hiruzen has no doubt Naruto will be ready for the Finals next week.

Kyoho twitches. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

"Is there a problem?" Hiruzen asks mildly. He can guess at her reticence - Jiraiya hasn't bothered to reign in his foibles in years.

Kyoho's lips purse, and for a moment Hiruzen wonders if she'll deflect, but then she scowls and mutters darkly, "If he touches my hair I'm setting him on fire."

What.

"Your hair." Hiruzen repeats slowly.

"Yes." There's a defiant glare in those blue eyes, daring Hiruzen to say something.

Hiruzen hums. "Will you heal him after?" Kyoho isn’t known as the Inferno for nothing.

"…yes." Grudgingly.

Very well then. "No maiming." He doubts Kyoho could maim or kill Jiraiya, but it’s always good for his student to be reminded that personal power doesn’t allow him to get away with everything.

Kyoho nods sharply.

Good. “Then there’s someone I believe you should meet.”

A subtle pulse of his chakra signals the ANBU masquerading as his secretary. The dark haired woman in a chuunin’s uniform - a classic beauty with ample curves, Rabbit is a Seduction specialist when not pulling guard duty and she doesn’t hesitate to use her cover to flirt with every shinobi that passes her desk - opens the door, and a blur of red slams directly into Kyoho.

Kyoho catches her sister with ease, spinning to bleed off momentum. Karin clings to Kyoho with arms and legs wrapped tight, her face buried in the side of Kyoho's neck and shoulders heaving from her sobs. Kyoho holds Karin up with one arm and cards her free hand through her hair, tears streaming freely from closed eyes.

Both girls are silent. Their expressions and body language are blatant with emotion, but no sound escapes either of them.

Not until Kyoho opens her eyes and sees the second arrival.

A blink of surprise at the blonde hair. But then Kyoho's eyes land on Naruto's face and her lips twitch into the first smile anyone in Konoha has seen from her. "Hello cousin."

“You’re really Uzumaki, dattebayo.” Naruto breathes. Wide eyes dart from the Uzumaki-red hair, to the sun-kissed skin just a few shades darker than the rest of Fire and the wider face, and Hiruzen doesn't have to be a Yamanaka to know Naruto sees the features they so clearly share. “You’re really here.”

Oh Naruto…

Kushina would be so furious with him, Hiruzen thinks. That Naruto didn't think an Uzumaki would come for a long-lost clansman? Unacceptable.

Kyoho's expression softens. Ignoring Karin still wrapped around her, she kneels to Naruto's height. “Yeah. I’m afraid you’re stuck with us now.”

Naruto launches himself at Kyoho. Unbraced, Kyoho falls backward, taking Karin and Naruto with her. It cannot be comfortable, Karin still wrapped around her like a koala and Naruto flattening them both, but Kyoho just wraps her free arm around Naruto's back and rubs circles across his back while he cries into her other shoulder.

Hiruzen turns to the window to give them some privacy, and ignores the guilt weighing him down when the soft hum of an Uzumaki lullaby fills the room.

#ffxv #Shadow of Heaven’s Light #Calling for Rain verse #fusion #naruto #Sola Lucis Caelum #Sarutobi Hiruzen #Uzumaki Karin #Uzumaki Naruto #Chuunin Exams are coming up!#need to decide if I want to squeeze in one more pov before that or not #hmm… choices choices choices #any povs y’all really want to see?

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charmingbrute · 1 year

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[ LOVE ]: the writer begins the first of a series of love letters to the recipient. : )

Knight Commander,

It is with fondest memories that I write to you today of that fateful night, when the winds howled outside of Coerthas and the fire danced within. I recall how you had so graciously tended to me, bringing forth a steaming cup of hot cocoa and placing it in my hands. The warmth of the liquid seeped into my bones, chasing away the chill that had settled within me.

I watched, entranced, as the firelight played upon your face, illuminating your features with a soft glow. And in that moment, I knew that I was truly blessed to have you by my side. That night remains etched in my memory, a symbol of all the warmth and comfort that you bring into my life. And so, as I sit here today, sipping my own cup of cocoa, I am back to that night, and I am filled with gratitude for what you have done.

I hope to drink it with you again, Warrior of Light

Ser Haurchefant,

I write to you once more. This time, with a heavy heart, having just uncovered a scene of unspeakable horror. The snow, once a blanket of pure white, now bears witness to the tragedy that has befallen this place. For beneath its cover lies the bodies of several poor souls, their fate sealed by the harsh winter. This must have been a common sight among your people and I cannot apologize enough that there was naught that we could have done.

And yet, I know that I too could have suffered the same fate, had I not been rescued by you. You have sustained me through the darkest of days, when the cold seemed to seep into my very bones. Your love acted as a beacon of hope, guiding me through the storm, and I was able to overcome the elements and emerge victorious. As I look upon the bodies lying in the snow, I am reminded of how close I came to sharing their fate. Much as it brings me sorrow, it also gives me hope. That somehow you thought I was worth your kindness.

Forever in your debt, Warrior of Light

Darling Haurchefant,

I have a confession to make. Our first intimate moment together left me filled with both anxiety and fear. The prospect of being so vulnerable, of exposing my very soul to another, was a daunting one. And yet, despite my reservations, I found myself drawn to you, unable to resist the pull of your love.

In that moment, I was overcome with fear, unsure if I was ready for such an experience. And yet, as I lay in your arms, surrounded by your warmth and affection, I realized that I had never felt safer or more at peace.

Now, as I reflect upon that moment, I find that I am filled with a sense of longing. I yearn to experience that closeness once more, to bask in the holiness of your embrace. And so, I ask of you, will you grant me the chance to repeat that moment, to lay aside my fears and revel in the love that we share? If your eyes do not lie, I believe that you love me as well.

Yours and yours alone, Warrior of Light

Beloved of mine,

I penned this letter within your family's abode, where I was graciously welcomed and invited to make myself at home. And yet, as I sit here in this room, surrounded by all the trappings of comfort and familiarity, I cannot shake the feeling that I am not truly at home as soon as you left. At first, I came to doubt the feeling. Eventually, the truth of it resounded in my head, in my heart that does not beat.

Home, my love, is where you are. Without you by my side, this room is merely a collection of objects, devoid of the warmth and presence that only you can bring. The fire may crackle in the hearth and the bed may be soft, but without you here, without you here before me, it is all meaningless.

I recall the first time I stepped into Camp Dragonhead, how I was immediately enveloped by a feelings of belonging, that I was right where I was meant to be. The walls seemed to embrace me, welcoming me into their fold, and I knew that I was truly home.

And so, my love, as I sit here in this room, I ache to be by your side instead. I mean not to sound ungrateful for your family's charity, and yet I cannot help but express my needs. For I know that true home is where you are, and without you, I am lost.

I want to go back to you, Warrior of Light

For you who are no longer here,

I sit beside your vigil, surrounded by the quiet of this hallowed ground. The winter sun beats down upon my face, warming me, but doing little to alleviate the breeze in my heart that your loss have caused.

And yet, I have come bearing news, my love. The war against the Dravanian Horde is won and Ishgard is finally healing from the Church and Thordan's hold. Their reign of terror is over, and the land is at peace once more. Your people are safe, and the skies are clear of the black smoke that once choked the air. Just like you dreamed of.

I think of all that has passed, and of the sacrifices that have been made. And yet, I know that you would have been proud, for you were ever the bravest and most selfless of us all. And so, my love, I implore you to wake. The world needs you, for your bravery and your love. The people look to you as a symbol of hope, and they need to see you, to know that you, too, are well.

Rise, my love, and take your place once more as the hero that you are. For the world is waiting, and it is time for you to emerge from this slumber and claim your place in the sun. Your place beside me. It has never been this empty before.

I cannot get used to it still, Someone who will always love you

#( verse : heavensward. )#hey curry #hey #ritterblood #inbox.#you are the smell before rain ; you are the blood in my veins. ( ritterblood )

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variantia · 2 years

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BELLUM. anyways I’m also all caught up on The Owl House and let me tell you I HAVE TAKEN EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

this is only slightly topical because they weren’t in the episode, but I have to say say that every time Lilith calls Hooty “Hootsifer” I just absolutely lose my shit

HOOTSIFER !!

#is that a fucking gremlin ?? ( OOC. )#(( I still wanna add Eda and the Collector HHHHH #but I want to see what the Collector does to see exactly how I'd want to play them #I already have a tag for Eda ic things and Eda x Raine tho so she's probably happening I just have to make icons before I add her #BUT ANYWAY I'M STILL DEBATING ON THE COLLECTOR #but I might do it bc Lo needs her little bigender star-brother and Khonshu needs a thousand-year-old child to rein in #and also I should give Venti a TOH verse too cuz HOO BOY R E B E L L I O N !!!!!#JUST KNOW ! THAT THESE ARE ALL THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD !! ))

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sharknark · 3 months

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i'm the worst kind of bts elitist, i insist dark & wild is their best album, i brag about liking the prologue mix of butterfly better, i'm the bitch crying about how shit butter is and how "i miss when they were hip hop"

#dark & wild is so good #... man #what am i to you-- rm's vocal delivery in the latter half of the song is so goooood #danger-- she's a classic. the mv is so funny watching a bunch of teenagers in egregious eyeliner jump around but she has banger qualities #war of hormone-- this track is a crime against humanity and she's a banger while she's at it. jhope's part 😍#hip hop phile-- trust a bts song to start with an appalling beat 😭😭 i confess however i love this track #let me know-- kinda nasally i know the fandom really likes this one but eehhh . rapline is good as always tho #rain-- the spiritual successor to 13430 but more groovy. she bangs so hard. suga always whispering 'suga' before his verse 😭#cypher 3-- i like the other cypher's better this one suffers from having supreme boi on it. this has the suga bisexual line tho so W's ther #what are you doing now-- 40 seconds of groovy sounds what more do you want #could you turn off your cellphone-- A BANGER what can i say??#embarrassed/blanket kick-- this song gave us chaotic fake making out choreography #24/7=heaven-- jungkook gets a bad rep these days but boy can sing #look here-- this song is STRANGE it does not sound like a bts song at all but i still really like it #2nd grade/sophomore-- underrateedddd ass banger. the year after debut was so frustrating for them and you can really feel it in this album #do you think that makes sense?-- explain it guurrlll man i love this album #i remember when the persona album dropped i got hopeful it'd be a return to form with the intros/outros/interludes #uhmm kinda was but it was immediately followed up with butter. BUTTER. dude. BUTTER. i can't #i just have to accept at some point 2014 bts is long gone and they'll never make music like that again cry

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sheyearns · 10 months

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Tag dump.

#♔ ▌.OOC┆⟨ felicia is enough ⟩#♔ ▌.IN CHARACTER┆⟨ there’s a void in her soul and it leaves her feeling cold ⟩#♔ ▌.BROKEN TOY ┆⟨ ❝ Just as I thought you are strange...Very strange... ❞ ⟩#♔ ▌.REFLECTION ┆⟨ ❝ I...never considered myself unfortunate.❞ ⟩#♔ ▌.MUSINGS┆⟨ a locked mind like stars; baring all the secrets of the universe ⟩#♔ ▌.HEADCANONS┆⟨ a broken melody born from her tainted nightmares ⟩#♔ ▌.AESTHETICS┆⟨ shining rubies instead of eyes with a voice of a siren ⟩#♔ ▌.DEVIANT JOKER┆⟨ ❝ His inner madness lies behind his twisted comical nature.❞ ⟩#♔ ▌.VERSE┆⟨ kaleidoscope of memories ( childhood ) ⟩#♔ ▌.VERSE┆⟨ this disaster binds us absolute ( before tragedy ) ⟩#♔ ▌.VERSE┆⟨ the rhythm of the rain keeps time ( after tragedy ) ⟩#♔ ▌.VERSE┆⟨ the illiusion starts to tear ( modern verse ) ⟩#♔ ▌.SAVED┆⟨ treasured lullabies ⟩#♔ ▌.DEAREST BROTHER┆⟨ ❝ Please brother...don’t blame yourself. ❞ ⟩#♔ ▌.PROMO ┆⟨ might be a sinner; might be a saint ⟩#♔ ▌.ASKS┆⟨ peculiar inquiries providing her with entertainment ⟩#♔ ▌.PSA┆⟨ details of importance ⟩#♔ ▌.ANONYMOUS┆⟨ masked figures of oddity whose true identities are unknown ⟩#♔ ▌.RAMBLINGS ┆⟨ she’s drowning in an ocean of thoughts ⟩#♔ ▌.POSITIVITY┆⟨ when you dream ; do you dream of the stars? ⟩#♔ ▌.LACIE&JACK┆⟨ it inspires a keen nostalgia in her for the simpler times before ⟩#♔ ▌WARDROBE┆⟨ wearing wildness like a second skin ⟩#♔ ▌.OZ&LACIE ┆⟨ the impractically rebellious & the impractically kind ⟩#♔ ▌.ANSWERED┆⟨ drawing the death card on every try ⟩#♔ ▌.OPEN STARTER┆⟨ to weave the shattered pieces of the universe back together ⟩#♔ ▌.CLOSED STARTER┆⟨ her whole being calls for an act of violence ⟩#♔ ▌.HER FAVORITE PLACES┆⟨ you are met with an empty house and deafening silence ⟩#♔ ▌.LACIE&OSWALD┆⟨ the poignant looks she gives him when she sees how he’s tearing himself apart is too much ⟩#♔ ▌.LACIE&ALYSS┆⟨ a figure in the distance a movie reel of old pictures ⟩#♔ ▌.LACIE&ALICE┆⟨ she taught me so many things about herself she didn’t know ⟩

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withachanceoflaxus · 10 months

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tag drop iii.

#⚡: calm before the storm / childhood verse #⚡: don’t fix it if it hasn’t broken yet / training arc #⚡: secret collecting fust but never forget / teenager #⚡: fuck you i don’t do what you tell me / fantasia #⚡: i found out what it takes to be a man / post fantasia #⚡: 24 hours ago i wanna be sedated / gmg #⚡: heroes get remembered but legends never die / tartaros arc #⚡: should i stay or should i go? / blue pegasus #⚡: i won’t make the same mistakes / war #⚡: looking for the answers in the pouring rain / post war main i #⚡: make my way back home to learn to fly / post war main ii

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wordswhisperinthedark · 11 months

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youtube

Way back when I first watched Good Omens S1 I connected this to the bookshop scene (you know the one), but now with THAT scene???

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #go2 spoilers #go spoilers #before I was connecting it more to the first verse and chorus but now the whole song is a bit more fitting?#to crowley aziraphale IS leaving him in the rain IS betraying them and their relationship through the years #idk this song is kinda like crowley's internal conflict over their last interaction??#Youtube

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kckflips · 1 year

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　　　sam freezes in the break room doorway, headphones caught mid-air between his hands. he's never seen craig like this before: doubled over in a flimsy foldout chair, head buried in his knees. it's usually shane who comes into work looking like he's on the brink of a serious breakdown. "craig ? " he comes closer, dropping the headphones around his neck. "hey, man...you okay ? "　/　@frestoniia

#( one comforting starter coming right up #lmk if anything needs to be changed~ )#frestoniia #✧ . * interaction.#✧ . * verse: before the rain.

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sylviareviar · 1 year

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" come on. you'll catch your death, and my umbrella's big enough for two. " - goro to slyvia maybe? :3

"H-huh...? O-oh... Um-- T-thank you, A-Akechi-senpai..." Whereas she would normally turn down such a generous offer, feeling unworthy, she couldn't find it in herself to do so. Not today.

In truth, she didn't know how it came to be this way. At first, it was just some mundane curiosity on his part: asking a fellow student about the various fads and rumors, exchanging gossip about the Phantom Thieves... Yet somehow, she must've caught his interest, because they often ran into one another and he seemed happy to engage in small talk. He seemed rather intrigued that she lived in a little bubble of her own, unaware of most fads unless they were physically impossible to escape from, such as the Phantom Thieves. Or maybe it was because she was genuinely interested and engaged whenever Akechi spoke of philosophy and corruption. Such things did fascinate her, after all, especially because she struggled to make her own opinions on things.

Or perhaps what drew him to her the most was the indeniable signs of trauma, perhaps hinting to the existence of a Shadow or, at worst, a Palace (though of course, she was unaware of the existence of such herself). There were a great many reasons Sylvia could not herself fathom as to why she had managed to capture the attention of someone as pristine and perfect as him. Of course, she could never hope to ascertain the truth for herself. She would make a horrible detective, after all.

Today, Akechi had caught her as she was leaving school, and he'd offered her his umbrella when he found she didn't bring hers, having forgotten it was going to rain. Rainy days were especially awful for her. For someone who requires electronic headphones to survive the day, rain was a bane more than a boon. That, coupled with the constant threat of thunder-- which she was deathly afraid of even indoors-- and it made her anxiety spike immensely.

Perhaps Akechi noticed it in the tenseness of her shoulders as she stared up at the sky just before he approached. How she wrung her fingers and fretted with wide eyes over having to go to the station without putting her headphones on.

She was grateful he'd saved her today. He truly was a kind person.

"Really... thank you very much, Akechi-senpai. I... probably would've hidden in the school if you hadn't come. I should really just put my umbrella in my bag from now on, so that I won't forget it..." She flinched and slapped her hands over her ears as a soft light flashed in the sky, and soft, quiet rippling of thunder followed long seconds after. She sighed at herself, hesitantly lowering her hands when the noise faded. "Pathetic, huh... A teenage girl, soon to be an adult, is scared of thunder of all things. How immature..."

#🌸 ~ persona 5 verse ~ 🌸#🌸 ~ in character ~ 🌸#🌸 ~ Goro Akechi (etherbonded) ~ 🌸#i was gonna make this soft and cute but #then i realized how bad anxiety gets when there's rain outside bc usually it means thunder's right around the corner #and sylvia gets startled by all thunder bc she's constantly bracing for the big jumpscare ones #so she hypes up her own anxiety making her fear ten times worse than it already is ^^;#so oops #since sylvia and goro have never interacted before i thought you might like it if i established the relationship just a little #if you want me to change anything lmk

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scngbard · 1 year

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@g00-daddy asked for a soft bard

tick-tock-tick-tock

Somewhere within the hideout, a clock seemed to taunt the very nerves of the bard. A distant sound that seemed to be at the very edge of their senses, yet still ever present, ever looming in the background. Whispering that little reminder that every second passing was pushing them all closer and closer to the Day of Unity, to the very hour where everything would be on the line.

tick-tock-tick-tock

A quiet growl of frustration rumbled in their throat as Raine curled further into Darius' side. There never seemed to be enough time. Not enough time to plan things out. Not enough time to prepare.

tick-tock-tick

Nowhere near enough time to spend with the witch that held them in his arms now. Their brow furrowed as the thought crossed their mind. It made their heart twist beneath their ribs. The bard wasn't sure if Darius was awake still, and they hadn't the heart to wake him if he wasn't. Besides, there was too much to say now with very little time to speak them. Perhaps if they hadn't wasted so much of that time... An ear twitched as the sound of the clock continued its monotonous melody, but Raine tried to focus on what was there with them now. Carefully shifting, hoping they didn't stir the witch beside them, they gently nuzzled themself against his neck, attempting to listen instead to the beat of his heart and the soft sound of his breath.

#g00daddy #♫ ╯ the agreed upon script || ic ╰#♫ ╯ verse 1 || main ╰#♫ ╯ raine x darius || g00daddy ╰#{(...okay it got a bit long but akjsdfnksda)}#{(a mix of fluff and lil bit of angst)}#{(let them have heckin cuddles before all hell breaks loose tho!)}#{(they deserve it!!!)}#az dont

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glyphcaster · 1 year

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@scngbard | x | starter for raine

Despite the fact that it was empty, The Owl House once again felt like a little home away from home. Camila was chatting with Eda, Amity was chatting with the collector, and King was chatting explosively with Willow and the others.

Luz took her seat beside Raine, claws tapping nervously on her knees. They made a weird, bone clashy sound that made her hesitate drumming more. The titan form was taking a bit to wear off.

She glanced over to Raine, to the scars on their cheeks. "Do they hurt? The scars." She held up a hand, the beginnings of a spell sparking at her fingertips. "I can heal them a bit, make the pain stop?"

Nevermind the fact that she hadn't slept in a while and her magic was starting to weaken again. Azura shuffled in her spot on Luz's shoulder, making a worried bat noise.

#Witch Luz Noceda: In Character #A New Adaptation: Immediately Post Watching and Dreaming Verse #The Way Home: S3 Verse #just a witch luz: main verse #wad spoilers #scngbard raine tag #( in my head raine was luz's little bard mentor once before they moved up in the coven )#( but you can determine if that stays for your raine or not! )

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ace-no-isha · 1 year

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i use the word god very often for someone who doesn’t believe in a merciful god lmao

#religion preaching wrath before mercy was not a fun time #the message of “i will rain the most excruciating death upon you and your people before “but i’ll forgive #did not work for my paranoid ass as a child #only made me freak out that i was messing up somehow and that would mean eternal damnation #i used to have nightmares and extreme paranoia. the nightmares mostly stopped when i was 12 after happening almost every night at least.#and as i got older and read about all the horrible things going on in this world all i could think was. how is this the doing of a kind god #things you go through being the tests that will determine whether or not you get into heaven pisses me off #like poverty? test. mental health? test. literally any bad thing? a test #also things that can give you pleasure in this life are also tests of restraint LMFAOOO #fuck ALL the way off #God does not burden any soul with more than it can bear: each gains whatever good it has done and suffers its bad-#this verse makes me SO ANGRY. before the semicolon it can be seen as a good thing.#after the semicolon it can be a moral lesson.#pre semicolon i like her. she’s comforting once in a blue moon #but the second half is the worse half cus #riddle me this: why are children born into war zones? why are people born with physical deformities that affect their quality of life?#what did they do to be born like that?#what moral failing did a child do to be born into horrible conditions?#and the first half. i have my beef with her. if i tried to kill myself does that mean i just failed to meet god’s expectations of me lmfao #that i SHOULDVE been able to tolerate it and i failed?#gigantic tmi but i’ll never not be bitter about how exactly my parents put islam onto me in my childhood #i think i could’ve been comfortable with the religion if it wasn’t shoved down my throat as a child #when i tell you my parents would have us doing quran study every day for at least two hours for fucking years #gee what a great way to instill something into your child

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murdockparker · 2 months

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Of the Same Mind

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: A mutual distaste in a certain author—should he even have the grace to be called that—leads to an unexpected meeting.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: mentions of drinking/alcohol, pregnancy, fluff, time skip

A/N: a cute lil request! made me actually read a little Byron myself to get the gist! and it wasn't that terrible I'm so sorry to disappoint

Dull.

Everything was dull. What was supposed to be the social event of the season was shortened due to poor weather—an outdoors event of sorts, it seemed, Benedict really didn’t pay his mother much attention when she explained the whole ordeal. Thus, half of the ton was crammed into Lord Whitehill’s home instead of his luscious grounds, all due to the pouring rain. Most conversation was boring, most of the ladies were whining about the rain, the men whining about their whining wives and daughters.

At least the drinks were good.

“…seriously think that fodder is worth your breath?”

Benedict’s ears perked up, focusing on a conversation that was decidedly not about the current weather. A breath of fresh air.

“I-I did not mean to insult you, miss,” a young gentleman sputtered, his face rosy red. “I only meant to indulge you in poetry of the highest regard—”

“If that was your intention, you would have chosen from a finer list of poets. Byron?” The lady nearly laughed out loud. “Byron is the bottom of the barrel, as it were, so your intention was ill-placed.”

“Byron is a well-regarded poet—”

“By who? Chamber pots?”

Benedict nearly spat out his drink. The action alone brought the attention of the arguing couple to him—both sets of eyes trained on the tall Bridgerton at once. “Oh,” he fake coughed, “it seems the drink went down the wrong way, please, forgive me.”

The man—who Benedict now recognized as Lord Whitehill’s son—scoffed. “Bridgerton. You are well versed in the arts, are you not?”

Benedict nodded. “I dabble.”

“Would you please explain to Miss (Y/L/N) that Byron is a novel poet,” Mr. Whitehill asked, “and that she should be flattered I recited poetry for her, regardless of the poet?”

Miss (Y/L/N). So that was the lady’s name.

“But that would be lying, Whitehill,” Benedict gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “And I am ever a gentleman, raised to never lie, especially to a fine lady such as Miss (Y/L/N).”

She smiled at that.

“You do not agree?”

“Oh I certainly agree with Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict said quickly, setting his glass down. “Byron is a mockery to the art—meaningless words and jaunty titles, why, I tried to read his latest and it put me right to sleep.”

“I fear I had the same reaction,” Miss (Y/L/N) said, turning to Benedict in earnest. “Right before I decided to throw it to the flames.”

They both laughed.

“Imbeciles, the both of you,” Mr. Whitehill said, pushing past the newly acquainted pair. “Keep insulting me like that and I’ll have my father throw the both of you out into the storm.”

“Mr. Whitehill,” Miss (Y/L/N) said softly, her eyes melting into puddles of apology. “I fear we were not insulting you, but rather your taste in poets. I also fear there is a stark difference in that, for if I were to insult you, I’d make a more fitting jab, more educated in that regard.”

The shorter gentleman stormed off, steam nearly pouring from his ears. Benedict laughed.

“I must say, Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict leaned down. “You have quite the sharp tongue.”

“I am known to be rather well spoken,” she beamed, standing a little straighter. “Perhaps it is my taste in literature?”

“For that, I believe we are in agreement,” Benedict said, grabbing a fresh glass from the table beside him. “May I offer the lady a beverage?”

“Only if you decide to share whatever’s in that pocket of yours,” she pointed to his chest. Benedict’s ears went pink. “Do not think I did not see you pour an added flavoring into the lemonade—it seems impolite that you would neglect to share.”

“It would be impolite,” Benedict said, carefully pulling his flask out of his coat. “I am surprised you saw that, though, given the crowded room.”

“You are a tall man, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said, taking the glass from his hand. Benedict poured a healthy amount of clear liquor into her cup before adding the rest to his own. “I would have found it hard to ignore you.”

“Your first season? I presume?”

“Technically,” she said, looking up into his blue eyes. “My family, we just moved to Mayfair. My father came into some money and relocated us here this year, my brother is set to study at Eton in the fall.”

“And you?”

“I am now expected to marry a rich and eligible bachelor,” she laughed into her glass. “Which I really have no problem doing, save for the fact that gentleman is nothing like Mr. Whitehill.”

“Mr. Whitehill is rather rich,” Benedict smirked. “Would that not placate you?”

“And listen to him dribble about Byron? Perish that thought,” she said. “When I do marry, I expect my husband to be of the same mind, a similar taste in the arts.”

“You know,” Benedict nearly whispered, “that is an admirable thought. But how will you find this man?”

She looked him up and down, quickly and all at once, returning to drink from her glass.

“I suppose I will know when I find him,” she smirked.

Benedict smiled back. “Well, please let me know when you do, I feel rather invested in your prospects.”

“You will be the first to know, I assure you,” Miss (Y/L/N) said, nodding her head. “But, if I may be so bold, if you are not currently preoccupied, would you care to further our discussion on Byron? It is hard to find someone who agrees with such a… contrasting opinion of the poet.”

“Why, Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict finished his glass, offering his arm, “I was afraid you’d never ask.”

—

The gardens on the property were lovely, so lush and full of life. She made good on her promise to keep them well maintained, only keeping the finest blooms and plants in their care. It was always the perfect place to spend time on days like today, sunny, a gentle breeze.

They had given the governess a day off, her mother had fallen ill, it was the least the Bridgertons could do for her.

“Mother!”

The lady looked up from her book, eyes meeting with her eldest daughter. Blue eyes, just like her father.

“Yes, darling?”

“Might I go inside to grab other books? Aunt Eloise recently sent some to Father and I want to read them.”

The lady gave her daughter a trying look. “Do you not think they may be above your comprehension level, my love? They were intended for your father, after all.”

“No need,” a looming voice bellowed. “I have them right here.”

She didn’t need to look up to know who it belonged to. “Benedict, I thought you were spending time in the studio this afternoon.”

“And miss spending time with my darling wife and children?” Benedict grinned, the crooked way she fell in love with. “That seems foolish on my part.”

“Father!” Their eldest exclaimed, running over to the tallest Bridgerton. “You brought the books?”

“Indeed,” Benedict nodded, handing the parcel off to his daughter. “Aunt Eloise thought we may have better use of these than her and Phillip do.”

Their daughter lit up with excitement—ever the reader, she was. It took a village to keep their library stocked with appropriate books for her age, but she was quickly out-reading her entire family’s collection. “Thank you, Father!”

“Well,” Benedict said modestly, “you must write to your Aunt Eloise and thank her, I had little to do with such a gift.”

“What about me, papa?”

Their son, only a few years younger than their daughter came bounding up past his escaping sister, clearly having been playing in the mud. “Do I have any gifts from auntie?”

(Y/N) opened her arms. “Not this time, sweetheart, but come here, let mama wipe that dirt off of your nose—”

“No!” He exclaimed, turning from his mother. “Dirt makes me ruggable—like Uncle Colin!”

“Rugged,” Benedict corrected gently. “And, no, dirt makes you dirty. You need to stop spending so much time with Colin…”

“Once baby brother is here I will,” their son nodded, putting both hands on his hips, looking down at his sitting mother.

“Oh darling,” (Y/N) said, trying to raise to her feet. Benedict quickly offered his hands, pulling her up. “Baby will not be here for a few more months.”

“Then more time with Uncle Colin!”

Benedict and (Y/N) sighed, watching their adventurous son run back to the mud. “We must write Colin, tell him of the monster he has created.”

“Our eldest is such an easygoing flower,” Benedict said, noting how she was carefully skimming through the various books on her lap. “Our son tests our patience.”

“And how do you think this one will be?” (Y/N) asked, placing his hand on her swelling stomach. She only had two or so more months until the delivery, if she had been correct on the conception. The latest Bridgerton wedding seemed to be the culprit, stolen kisses and a romantic rendezvous to the greenhouse away from the party—it was a perfect recipe for baby number three. “Calm and collected? Devilish and adventurous?”

“I pray they are just like their mother,” Benedict rubbed her belly affectionately. “And perhaps a bit more behaved than their brother… I suppose I should also write my mother an apology.”

“Whatever for?”

“I reckon my brothers and I acted much like our son,” Benedict said sheepishly. “Acting like Bridgerton boys, I am afraid.”

“As if that is the only explanation,” she giggled, leaning into his side. “But I am sure your mother would appreciate such a gesture. Perhaps you should send her a bouquet from our garden, too?”

“An excellent idea, my love,” Benedict said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “What a brilliant mind you have.”

“Father, Mother!” Their daughter called out, waving them towards her. “Aunt Eloise sent a book by an author I have never heard of before.”

“Oh?” Benedict quirked his brow, walking with his wife over to her. “And what author may that be?”

“A Lord Byron,” she said, showing the book with a deep brown cover to her parents. Benedict scooped the tome quickly from his daughter’s grasp, holding it close to his chest.

“And you shall never read such filth,” Benedict said seriously.

“Oh Benedict,” (Y/N) laughed. “Perhaps we should allow our daughter to expand her mind—come to her own conclusions on the matter? Surely Aunt Eloise meant the gift in kind.”

“Aunt Eloise clearly meant to send it as a cruel prank,” Benedict corrected.

“What is so wrong with that author, Father?”

“A shorter conversation would be what is not wrong with this author,” Benedict said, turning to call his son. The little boy ran over to his father’s side, ever eager. “Take this and bury it, preferably far away from here.” His wife could not stop her laughter, watching their son hurriedly run over to the new rose bushes, making good work at digging a deep enough hole for the book. “You,” Benedict pointed at the girl, “are forbidden to read anything written by that lowly man.”

“Oh Benedict,” (Y/N) admonished, trying hard to stop her laughter, “forbidding her from reading seems silly—”

“Are we not of the same mind on Byron?” Benedict asked. “I rather think that is how we met, is it not, dearest wife?”

She pursed her lips, fighting a smile. “We are.”

“Besides,” Benedict stood a little straighter, “the roses could use a bit more sustenance.”

She could only roll her eyes.

#Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton x Reader #Benedict Bridgerton #Bridgerton x Reader #bridgerton imagines #if this title has been used before i apologize!#still not sure if I'm digging the whole... photo thing with the post #but it's cute no?

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anantaru · 10 months

Text

THE PRICE IN MYSTERIES CONCEALED

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — who was the man you fell in love with? why did it seem like he was hiding his true self away from you, and why, at last, was he hesitant to deepen the connection in your new relationship?

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 3.4k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, first time intimate, playing with your tits (tit lover neuvillette), unprotected, he has marks on his chest, loads of cum lmao, virgin! neuvillette but skilled, quick learner, established relationship, size kink (dragon cock giggles), sweet sweet neuvillette he's the sweetest man

there are no two ways to go on about it, but you can clearly hear the words neuvillette doesn’t say to you, you can see it in the light of his eyes. hidden verses evaporating in slow heaves, how rain puddles disappear on a hot day, when he ultimately decides against reciting his longings out loud to you.

instead, he imagined it in his hankering memories, how you'd feel under him, topless, bare and exposed, how it would feel when he was luxuriating in your velvet walls of your entrance and the vivid heat that would envelope him every time he sinks his cock all the way inside.

nonetheless, it's futile, he couldn't do it, he won't make the first step, but he knows, he could swear on it, that there was nothing warmer nor more welcoming then being inside of you.

in such predicament, neuvillette doesn’t know what to do nor on how to get rid of those improper fantasies circulating in his psyche, because, as it happened, he felt disgusted in himself to even daydream in such manners, about his significant other— someone he regarded as infinitely perfect beyond the limits of his own imagination.

besides, he's never done this before, again, he’s fucked his hand while thinking about you, feverish pants and hot breathes exposing him behind closed doors, most of the times it's uncoordinated and without knowing how to bring himself to a nice, proper climax.

neuvillette could never stop his digits from traveling down south before rutting into his hand so fucking desperate, with a heartfelt heat plummeting on top of his body, shudders when he drags over the slit of his cockhead, brows furrowed, pale skin battered in champagne rose, wishing it was your soft, warm cunt he'd be fucking into instead.

and it's not like you denied yourself to him, because there certainly were enough moments in the past where he was presented with the opportunity of advancing it forward, magnifying your new, fresh relationship— souls nurturing in the most sacred, wonderful way, while right before it could be turning into that direction, his eyes would suddenly be unable to hold yours any longer and his worry kicks in right afterwards.

then, as it happens so often, he could feel his embarrassment bottle up when he pushes himself away from you, leaving you behind, yet— remember, he doesn't lie upfront to you, he'd never defy your trust nor succumb to altering the truth, which made it even more awkward to begin with.

to be transparent, gone were the days where he wouldn't have to deal with the enriched pressure and heaviness in his groin, new, unlocked desires that if he were to ignore them, or at least try, only would bounce back with a more intense power, until he was painfully hard all day, not knowing on how to get rid of it once and for all.

to counterbalance, you eagerly note and remember the words he did speak out to you, and despite the veiled meanings behind it all, sheltered below a smokescreen of mysteries, it's there.

furthermore, it was perceivable in the doubled seemings, and despite that, the mysterious man seldomly exchanged words of affirmations, protecting the hidden truth that had been stored in his heart for decades on end.

the man rather spoke in the elusiveness of his delicate glances, and in his imperceptible touch, because there was a primordial light inside the action of his trails. from first principles, he never sought out any of this, because the way he saw it was that unclouded emotions for another individual are best left unrevealed in life. all that mattered, in the end, was what the brain spoke out to yourself, because strict rules must be followed.

but if any moment in time anchored his very soul, created a strong tether to this plane of reality he found himself bound by, it was the moment he fell in love with you.

neuvillette never let you touch him more, currently, he only kisses you smoothly, plants wet, open mouthed pecks along your collarbones before lapping his tongue up, sharp teeth slowly grazing over the soaked skin. it's as if he was scared of unspoken consequences if he were to move this forward, or of the sudden possibility to hurt you.

humans were fragile, he said, like a vase falling on the ground, broken into a million pieces and unable to be fixed again.

presently, your hands find his hair, and the bed dips as you shuffle your frame into him, smothering the small distance of your bodies, laying your warm hand against his clothed chest, just above the little jeweled medallion he always seems to wear. he gulps out strongly when you lock your digits into his form-fitting garments, just to pull him closer to your body as you open his mouth with your tongue, lapping over his wet muscle before pulling away with a pop.

"feel me." you say intimately, guiding his trembling hand over your chest, and awaiting his reactions, testing the waters, while his luminous eyes watch you contently as you pause, his touch reaching your covered breasts, and neuvillette draws his fingers into the concealed mounds, his lips parting for a low grumble, eyes opening wide as it got hard.

"feel how my body reacts when you touch me," you speak in a hitching voice, whining when he pulls at the erected nipple, whilst the fabric of your shirt turned his traces all the more roughened, intense with the garment rubbing against your sensitive tits, "feel how i love you."

neuvillette sucks in a breath, crossing his tongue over his bottom lip, "i do not want to hurt you." he whispers, his cock growing hard and heavy squished against your core when he unintentionally grinds down a little, both moaning against each other, his breath hot, his noises hanging across the walls of the room. it's without a doubt that this time it's different from prior instances where he was, although with enough discipline, able to remove himself from you, faster and without making a complete idiot of himself.

now, neuvillette was unable to keep his own hips to a complete stand still, he moves them, softly grinds against your clothed cunt before fisting the pillow right next to your head, knuckles turning white at the sheer intensity and power he was graced with, chasing more of the incomparable relief that you are so preciously giving him.

you whine, a noise all winded and hot when you wrap your legs around his hips, "you won't hurt me." you murmur, catching his face with your palms so he could rest in them, "because i trust you."

he believes that maybe you miss it too, desire it, the pleasure that was unlike others, perhaps it had been lacking in every aspect of your relationship which neither of you expected to have in the first place.

and you're ravishing, he can't say if often enough, believing that you were made for living once, because you were one of a kind, made of mesmerizing lights and clear, pure water and a soothing birdsong, sprouting flowers and the finest silk in teyvat.

... unlike him.

neuvillette groans into your lips when you lick across his mouth, leaving his infectious tunes stretch the need in his rough voice, stretching it out long and slow enough until it sounds like a clear beg to fuck you, or at least continue with this.

but besides that, you cannot look into his mind, blinking up at his reddened face that was towering on top of you, "do you want me to stop?" you breathe out, smoothly circling your thumb over his bristling cheek, stilling your hips and attempting to close your legs when he wishes you would just kiss him again.

"no.." he replies almost a little too fast, as if he was ready to beg for it, and his cheeks catch on the color of scarlet red rather quickly, his hands scattering down to your hips to keep you from concealing your movements away from him, fuck, it just feels so fucking good he cannot believe himself.

"i apologize.." his face crumbles with the vulnerability in it, exhaling from his parted lips, "i've never—"

"that's okay." you mouth a spot on his neck, reaching his earlobe, "but i want to hear you." you tip your head forward and give a twist of tongue into his lips, skillfully arching your hips to rub over his erected groin yourself— teeth colliding against each other bound by a crushing sensation that was growing each second.

with a muffled, breathless laugh giving way to a soft whine when he adds more strength to his thrust, you longed to let him know how you felt— yes, right there, you say when he at last, slips his fingers into your shirt to touch your bare breasts, just like that, do it more.

you aid neuvillette in unclothing you as his body flexes under your hands, shivering when your eyes lift to meet his glowing ones, and there’s a moment— you can never forget it, crystalline and trembling on the edge of a leaf, that you could tell that he has been buried inside of his own mind but instead of going back to suppressing his desires, as he did countless of instances before, he answers now, without words— and oh, he gets bolder, the faint, needy whines that crawled into your ears made you rock into him, his digits slipping over your skin and circling on top of your nipples.

the prickles and vibrations in your veins and in your bones multiply and the temperature in your room changes into humidity— your craving body lightening up and threatening to float away by his ever so subtle, sweet traces and rounds on your tits, getting himself to work while you're anchored here only, all eyes on him, under him, by the rhythm of his fingers.

"take your clothes off for me." you say, pinching the hem of one leg and giving it a gentle tug. neuvillette hums in agreement, nodding right after, tongueing at the roof of his mouth in nervousness, because everyone could clearly see that he was tense, yet his cock was turning harder under your attention, he feels like it's going to explode if he doesn't do anything about it now.

he drops all the way back, body lifting off the bed as he slides his high-priced pants down yet not before opening his belt one handed, the "click" of the metal making you tremble, followed by the rest of his clothes which you aided him on, reaching down to drag down your soaked panties as well.

his cock bounces as he kicks the fabric away, and by the time he’s back up on both elbows towering above you, the fullness of it rests long and heavy against the crease of your thigh. His long, slender fingers giving it a slow tug as you watch, entranced by its size and shape— he was way above average, not even that would do it justice, coated with a bunch of small yet thick veins that reached all the way up, hard and aching, right under his cock head that had been desperately glistening with his pre cum.

time slows, stops, holds entirely; he dares to glance down, looking at your drenched pussy and how your hole fluttered around air, shimmering with your slick.

and you wrap yourself around him, arms out so he could lean into you. you know he's sharpening his senses to catch your reactions, adjusting his rubs on your tits when he notes a particular place being a little more sensitive and how you moan out when he touches it.

everything hits all at once, and he cannot get enough, both of you cannot.

for the first time, he experienced actually being free from his shackles and neuvillette needed your affirmations that it was in fact okay, you wanted to continue, because he never kept his eyes off you, always watching you closely through hungry eyes— for all that could happen, despite him continuing to be content with you.

the man was intoxicating, he was handsome from the depth of his ocean eyes to the gentle, sweet expressions of his voice when he whispers sweet nothing into your ears. neuvillette was beautiful, as if carved by literal gods, his chest defined, blue'ish traces, reminding you of tattoos, outlining the sides of his torso— but they weren't tattoos, they appeared to be a part of him since birth, how beauty marks are visible on some bodies, his were larger and resembling the kindest, most soothing waves.

neuvillette kisses down on your collarbone and you gasp out when he suddenly moves a little lower to take a nipple into his warm mouth, shudder when he crosses his tongue over it for the first time, it feels warm and wonderful with his complete weight on top of you.

and you can feel his hand, the rhythm of it on your other breast as it’s wrapped around the solid heat of your bud, continuing to palm your tits when his warm breath fans across your skin.

in this room, the man experienced so many different emotions now, but he feels more alive, within seconds, more awake, more present, and he doesn’t try to talk nor voice too much in the beginning, he just wanted to listen to the pace of your breathing, your whines and what your moans did to him.

he was waiting for your heaves to even out, align in soft decrease whilst he certainly doesn't realize that if he were to continue to hump your bare, thudding pussy the way he did, in accessory to playing with your tits and lapping his tongue across as if famished, there was no way for your heart rate to ever go back in an even pace.

regardless, neuvillette alters his breathing to match your own, his heaves on your wet skin, breathless, hot, when you begin to move your hips up a little, his cock nudging on your hole but never sliding in, his tip alone seemed to be big in it's own right and you wondered if you could even fit him in you.

of course, you were plenty wet, he made sure of that, always so kind and gifting.

your entire face buzzes with pins and needles when he draws himself back from your tits and your hand travels down to catch his girth in your warm palms, fisting him a little and spreading his pre over his drumming girth, grinning when he hooks his hands to your hips, pulling you straight down so his cock would be perfectly situated and ready to feel you, for real this time.

"tell me.." he mutters, "if you want to stop." and you kiss his lips featherlight, "of course, don’t worry about it." and nodding when you drag him across your folds to collect enough slick before slowly, agonizingly slow, push his tip inside.

your eyes flare wide and you arch your back instantly, no thoughts, no judgements, only your breathing getting cut short by the sudden piercing thrust burying inside your tight hole with a stretch that's more shock than anything else, and you hide yourself in his chest when you whimper into his ears, "slower, please". he understands and the restraints in his chest loosen as he wraps his arms across your body, as if protecting you in a sense.

neuvillette shuffles his knees wide and splits your legs further apart, holding you how he wants you, how he thinks will hurt less and even out the burning split on your cunt— he proceeds and fucks into you slowly, inch by inch, waiting a little, before adding another.

you ease up into him eventually, your walls getting used to his girth, the slap of his body against you quiet yet precise, his hips pumping in a slow, rhythmic roll that grinds the low of his stomach against your clit, spotting the prickling point on your cunt. you're turning hazy at the fullness, dipping your fingers into his long hair before pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, lapping across him in slow twists, pinching your hips up to meet his blows.

now, all you could do was to relish in his warmth, curve your back like a bow and let the most desirable, filthiest moans spill from your pretty, pursed lips. neuvillette was quick to catch and watch you, swallowing down every gritty moan and whine that you offered him, because of him, he couldn't fathom that he was the reason you felt that good, passing his cock back into you, in, out, in, out, humming in appreciation between sucking kisses that leave a pinching trail from your neck to your tits that he ever so graciously played with.

neuvillette got a pretty good first impression of it now, and he doesn’t slow, while, his thrusts become faster and more, greedy, not until he unthreads an arm from the mounds of your breasts and caresses the length of your body— slowed and appreciative, sliding his hand over your stomach and up, reaching to your shoulder before hooking his fingers on it— thrusts now faster as he drags you into him, harder, and your tits bounce back and forth with each jolt of his large cock splashing into your hole.

of course he blushes when you tighten your muscles, clenching down on his girth and milking him preciously, it was a dead give-away that he wouldn't last long when he releases a long, lagged moan of your name. like his warm, wet kisses, the drags and fondles of his traces left a wake rippling along your entire skin, a sensory memory, never overridden by anything else.

the coil in your stomach builds up quickly, nerves lighting up when his tongue flicks out to tease the sensitive point of your neck and jawline, body sizzling as if electro infused as pleasure jolts down your flesh until reaching your cunt.

"make me cum," you cry, "i need you!"

"—you have me."

throat tight, body tighter, your hands quick to push him from your neck to your mouth, lips pressing together as you arch and jolt off the bed, up and down, his cock faster than before as the wet, filthy smacking sounds almost overrode your noises. you squeeze around him, hungrily, strongly, suckling in his cock with your thudding hole as his hand on your shoulder clasps behind your neck, pushing you so far up against his glossy lips that you exchanged breathes and whines, throaty groan and cries.

you turn your arms around his chest to strengthen the touch, throat bobbing, mouth dry. there’s no space for anything left and when he pushes himself in you completely, cock disappearing in your used hole, your eyes roll into the back of your head and you shake viciously, climaxing around him, making a mess of yourself, when the bubble in his stomach popped instantly whilst seeing you become free, your liquids drawing a white ring around his girth— neuvillette couldn't go on about it any longer, not when you gnaw down on him so fucking desperate, so loved and fulfilled.

he cums hard, and a lot, and he tenses up, a thrill running over his flesh as his brows furrow, releasing his warm whites with shallow thrusts into your pussy before tucking your body tight to his front and pulls you even more tightly against him, messing you up with his seed. he has been so touch-starved that he can feel drizzling tears form and connect under his lashes in tune with his own orgasm taking him hostage.

his expression softens afterwards, looking like a heavy burden has been lifted off his shoulders, and he dips his head forward, foreheads resting. it's quiet for a while, well, if it weren't for your loud breathes and the clear exhaustion quelling on your facial expressions. the both of you are puffing and blowing out air, finding comfort in the silence when a torrid heat of swirls casts on your bodies, the atmosphere in the room on-fire and fiery.

you decide to kiss his lips, when you finally smirk up at him, eyes aglow, and his own lips are pulled up into an ethereal, handsome smile, his demeanor cascading with an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness and love.

real love.

"i craved you." he whispers, "and i desire you." and kisses your lips one more time.

alas, neuvillette came to terms with himself, knowing that there would never be anything, nothing, that could ever beat the feeling of this.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fan fiction #genshin impact neuvillette smut

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