Tumgik
#bound to absurdity
its-rat-time-babey · 1 year
Text
“The Artificer’s campaign has little impact on the overall story” bitch I cannot stress how much of an impact the Artificer had on the entire world. You just need to pay attention to some things.
By the time of the Artificer, Scavengers are basically in the middle of a massive golden age. They have a Chieftain (with a mark of communication (maybe Five Pebbles gave them the mark and citizen ID drone and tried to use them for something but they rebelled and found Metropolis)) with armour made from Red Centipede Scales, they have a permanent home in metropolis above the rain, they figured out how to harvest electrical scrap and broken down Rarefaction Cells from the ruins of Looks To The Moon and pieces of Five Pebbles to make electric spears and Singularity Bombs, they even have specially trained Elite Scavengers, which did exist before in the time of the Spearmaster but it’s still worth bringing them up.
Overall, Scavengers are at a golden age of invention and life in general.
And then they anger the Artificer, who slaughters countless Scavengers, kills their Chieftain and drives them out of Metropolis, locking the gate behind them.
After that, a new Chieftain is never made, armour like the chieftain once wore is never made again, Scavengers suffer a massive population loss, they can’t enter Metropolis without a Citizen ID Drone and Elite Scavengers slowly disappear as the methods used to teach them and the knowledge of how to scavenge and create electric spears and singularity bombs is lost, with the last Elite Scavengers being seen in the Hunter’s campaign, which happens next in the timeline. In other words, the Artificer literally sent Scavengers into a dark age.
It takes until the time of the SAINT for Scavengers to show real signs of recovery, now appearing in larger numbers than before. And even THEN Scavengers never do anything like they did during the time of the Artificer. The Artificer plunged Scavengers into a dark age for countless years, and they STILL haven’t recovered.
And that’s not all. According to the wiki, Scavengers are afraid of Slugpups, most likely because they remember how the last time they killed one they were hit by the full force of an angry explosive lobbing goddess of destruction that slaughtered countless members of their kind. They are afraid of Slugpups in all campaigns, even the Saint’s. So even by the time of the Saint Scavengers know not to mess with Slugpups, presumably because the last time they did so is a legend among Scavengers by that point in time.
Hell, the Artificer’s existence even explains something about the Hunter. The reason that the Hunter starts with a negative reputation among Scavengers is because they look like the fucking Artificer. Scavengers look at the Hunter and see the goddess of vengeance and destruction that they’ve only ever heard of from stories.
Both of them have red fur and a scar on one eye, and will the time gap between campaigns, there’s a good chance that only a few Scavengers that saw the Artificer in person are even alive by that point in time (without even taking into account how the Artificer murdered so many Scavengers that it’s probably rare that a Scavenger saw them and lived to tell the tale), meaning that the Artificer is probably told about in Scavenger stories and her appearance would therefore differ, leaving the most obvious details like the scar on one eye and red fur.
2K notes · View notes
leona-florianova · 1 year
Text
Gotta love how Bill Hader directs live action as if he was directing an animated cartoon.. Because thats exactly how some of the left field things that happen on BARRY feel like.. Actual live action cartoon.
Like what he does requires type of thinking that you dont get if you specialise just on live action. But not everybody can make it work.
40 notes · View notes
fingolfins followers probably know how to ice skate
13 notes · View notes
Quote
A man is always a prey to his truths. Once he has admitted them, he cannot free himself from them. One has to pay something. A man who has become conscious of the absurd is forever bound to it.
from The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus
15 notes · View notes
yourlostearring · 1 year
Text
not for nothing my astrology practice has really gotten soooo good following this recent saturn transit through aquarius/my natal 9th house like it’s kinda crazy lol… at the start of it around summer 2020 i was just starting to research traditional/ancient methods (albeit borderline obsessively lol) and now im like, casually casting loose predictions over a glass of wine using the most complicated timing techniques known to modern astrologers and layering that with transits rooted through the nativity itself….. like lmao…. i wont get too into it bc ill go on forever but the amount of people who have reached out to me within this last year or so to tell me something i predicted came to fruition during like the exact window of time i highlighted is so crazy to me!!! anyway lmaoooo idk the point of this post is that i kinda really wanna start an astrology blog on here just to have a concrete space to run rampant with all my silly little musings lol so like maybe that’ll be a thing in the near future even though ive been saying this for forever at this point but also!! saturn is in pisces people!! my natal house of reputation!!! so maybe changes are afoot for silly little girls such as i? we shall see lmao anywayyyy it’s not like it’ll gain a huge following (or any following) so im basically just shouting into the void at this point but yeah idk been practicing my ZR interpretation a lot lately so been feeling myself (my powers) a bit on this lovely tuesday afternoon i suppose :-) also jupiter just moved into taurus today and will subsequently trine all my earth placements which is something i have been looking forward to for MONTHS so let’s cheers to that ladies!!!!!!!
1 note · View note
vaspider · 1 year
Text
Listen, I know it's very much a thing that utopian leftists think that religions will simply stop existing once all of our material needs are met, but that is just not the case.
Human beings need ritual. If we are deprived of ritual, we make new ritual. It does not matter if you call it religion or state or whatever it is you call it, human beings will keep making up new rituals.
You cannot stop us, and saying 'this ritual which I like and doesn't hurt anyone else is fine, but that ritual which you like and doesn't hurt anyone else is bad' is just bigotry.
When I say 'you cannot stop us,' I literally mean you cannot stop human beings from making up rituals and religions. Leave a group of six year old girls alone near a mud pit for an hour and you will come back to a newly-minted faith. We make ritual. We make culture. That is what we do.
No, Judaism will not 'naturally cease to exist' when all of our material needs are met. What will happen then is that the Jews will get Jewier, because we will have all the time in the world to study Torah and write stories and make Jewish art. If you met all of my material needs tomorrow, two days from now there would be six more hamsas, a complete bound copy of all the volumes of the Talmud, and a shit-ton of giant Jewish art prints in my house.
You cannot stop people from making up culture and religion. It is, arguably, the thing which makes us human, one of the defining features of our collective humanity. We will always make up silly songs and new religions, and the idea that we'll just give all of that up for some vanilla yogurt and taupe jumpsuits utopian existence is absurd and beyond belief.
12K notes · View notes
thedensworld · 26 days
Text
I Can Fight | J.Ww
Tumblr media
Pairing: Wonwoo x reader
Genre: fluff
Summary: Wearing a revealing clothes was never uncomfortable for you. However since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear one. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.
Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰
It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.
Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.
"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.
As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.
You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?
Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.
As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.
With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.
"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.
"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.
You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.
Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."
A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.
Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."
You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."
"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.
You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."
Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."
A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.
Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.
"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.
Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.
As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.
"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.
You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."
Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."
A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"
Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."
Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.
"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.
A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.
He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.
His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.
***
You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.
His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.
As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.
"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."
Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.
As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.
"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.
A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.
You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.
"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.
You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.
Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.
769 notes · View notes
onlyswan · 5 months
Note
i’m back to give you my iw!couple brain rot 🤲, please handle with care.
but !! imagine jungkook and oc doing that “see how long we can go without kissing” challenge !! how would fold first? they’re both so competitive but smitten it makes me conflicted. 😣😣
knowing them, jungkook would be twitching his eye just from the thought of being deprived kissies so would oc give in first to let him win? or would jungkook just take what’s his?? 🤔
imagine oc being a blushing mess from staring at jungkook’s face for too long 😵‍💫 THEYRE SO CUTE I CANT THINK STRAIGHT😭🫶
Tumblr media
summary: in which jungkook is twenty-six years old and yet… you still give him butterflies.
idol!jk x reader, established relationship / word count: 0.7k
content/warnings: sexual tension, making out, it’s honestly just them fighting over who gets to be on top
> in which masterlist!
note: hehe hi anonie… sorry… i kindaaa got carried away… i had to write out the thing or else i would’ve gone insane just talking about it <3 (written with love and care) <3
“i don’t understand this challenge.”
“me neither,”
jungkook remains in a hypnotic-like trance, doe eyes trained to your lips stained with a lighter shade of mixed red and brown.
“we’re this close and we can’t kiss…? this is absurd.”
“do they actually do this in bed? with someone on top?” you chuckle as you coyly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. “i don’t think so?”
“i don’t know. i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he teasingly brushes his nose against yours, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended. “since, you know, we’ll be here a while.”
“oh wow. bringing me to bed, really? you’re that confident?”
he cockily raises an eyebrow. “hm, we both know you won’t be able to resist me here. you’re all over me all the time.”
you try not to roll your eyes in annoyance. and you also both know that you’re just as competitive, if not more.
“oh my god, you,” you mumble. the calm of your voice contrasts the aggressive push of your hand against your boyfriend’s naked chest. “and your stupid arrogance and your stupid need to flaunt your stupid hot body.”
in the blink of an eye, jungkook finds you stradding him, and himself, trapped underneath your body. he blinks in disbelief, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
“this is dirty.”
you remove his glasses, moving it aside without care. “that’s just your mind.”
okay, perhaps bringing you to bed was a bad idea.
you lean down, slowly, close and then closer— it’s quite ridiculous that he’s nervous as if he doesn’t know what is bound to happen next: he’s thoroughly convinced that you’re going to kiss him.
once he feels your lips ghost over his, mere millimeters away, his eyelids flutter shut.
terrible idea. terrible.
the kiss, much to his disappointment, never happens.
he opens his eyes and your face is suddenly tucked in the space between his neck and shoulders, giggling and shaking and positively amused.
he turns away and squeezes his eyes shut. a painful admit of defeat against your infinite allure. “ah, i’m fucked.”
“we’ll get there later,” you lift your head, tilting his chin to face you.
you smile and scoot closer. so close that your bottom lips grazes his. he fails to remember the last time the two of you touched as chastely, as softly, but it felt like accidentally touching a live wire. he gets a funny feeling in his stomach. butterflies…? he’s twenty-six years old. he must be losing his mind.
“after you lose.”
“that’s not happening, baby.”
“yes, it will.”
“i won’t give up so easily.”
you give him an innocent look. “but i really think you will.”
you stare at each other for a little while, anticipating the other’s next move.
“fuck- yeah, okay-” he grits his teeth, taking advantage of his strength to finally flip back your positions. you’ve had your fun. “you’re right.”
“babe! ru-”
your surprised gasp is cut off by jungkook’s lips crashing on yours— curved into a smirk, you can feel it. your whines are muffled and swallowed by him, wrists caught in his hands and over your head because you were hitting his shoulder and he just wanted to kiss his baby properly.
“you lost,” you remark quietly when he draws back, only inches away, to scatter kisses along your face and down to your neck.
it tickles, you squirm in pleasure when he reaches near your collarbone, but your hands are still tied.
you were supposed to have him underneath you as a hot and flustered mess, not the other way around. damn it.
“really?” he feigns interest, lips finding their way back to yours. “doesn’t feel like it.”
3K notes · View notes
ozzgin · 6 months
Text
Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)
This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.
As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.
TW: violence, monsters
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]
Tumblr media
You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.
"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.
You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.
Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.
Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?
You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.
There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.
"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.
You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.
Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.
After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.
The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.
A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.
Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.
"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!
Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."
The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.
"You're not him, are you? But then again..."
"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."
"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.
"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"
"The exit to...where? You're outside."
You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"
"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."
Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.
"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."
You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.
Something just grabbed you.
Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.
You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.
Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.
The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.
You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.
"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."
The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.
"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.
Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.
"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."
"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"
"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 
You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 
You just want to sleep.
You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 
"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 
His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.
Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 
"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.
Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.
"What do you mean?"
"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"
"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."
A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.
"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 
The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 
"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."
As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 
A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 
"Found you."
The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.
How will you get out of this?
2K notes · View notes
sleepingdead96 · 1 month
Text
Prepared for Anything
Part 2, MasterPost
Danny stared at the ceiling, bored, as the creepy clown laughed manically at a camera. Danny hadn’t been in this dimension for two minutes, (he’d portalled directly into Joker’s hideout) before he was promptly tied to a chair. He could get out of it easily.
Thing was, there were others here, restrained more thoroughly than Danny. They wore colourful, armoured suits and were obviously the vigilantes/heroes of this. . .place—Gotham? Danny’d heard the name mentioned a few times now—This Freakshow wannabe was obviously one of their villains. 
Danny had been hoping someone would show up without having to draw attention to himself. What was this dimension’s stance on halfas? Or ghosts?
But no one had come yet, it had been an hour, and he was getting stiff from sitting here so long without being able to move his limbs.
Danny heaved a loud, exasperated sigh-groan at the ceiling. The guy, face-painted like a toddler who’d gotten into their parent’s make-up, suddenly stopped monologuing. 
Good. It was getting annoying.
“Are you done yet?” Danny complained much like the impatient teenager he was. “I’ve got crap to do, wrap it up, would you?”
Danny came here to explore. He was not exploring. He should be exploring and it was all this dude’s fault.
Danny supposed he could go all ghost on him and bounce, but he came all this way. It wasn’t much of hassle, but still. Danny was stubborn. He knew this.
The warehouse was silent. The creepo wasn’t talking, anymore, he wasn’t doing anything, and Danny deigned to lift his head from where it’d been thrown back on the chair.
The costumed people were looking at him in horror.
Danny wasn’t sure why.
The walking fashion disaster began to cackle with condescending amusement.
Yeah, okay, whatever.
Danny ignored the man’s delve into something about Danny’s impending doom, or threatening him with pain, and something, something, something. Something about broken this, burning that, yada, yada yada, when Danny got an idea.
Behind the chair where his hands were bound, knowing no one was behind him, he quietly broke the ropes on his wrists. The vigilantes—a red one with bandoliers crossing over his chest and one who wore a largely grey and black suit with an R emblem on the left side of his chest—were valiantly trying to dissuade the psycho to leave Danny alone, who now realized the said psycho was coming towards him, carrying a crowbar.
How original.
The Joker, as Danny heard someone call him at some point, he’s not sure when, leaned in close. His breath stank. 
Danny made a disgusted face. “Do you not brush your teeth at all? Gross, dude.”
“You won’t be mak—“
Danny punched him in the jaw. The guy went down pretty easily. 
Danny made an annoyed noise as he bent down to untie his ankles from the chair legs. He muttered to himself. “Stupid villains, always gotta get in the way, why can’t I just have one nice vacation, huh?”
“How did you do that?” 
Danny looked up at the red one. “Do what?” He asked, standing and stretching with satisfying pops.
“Get free.”
“Oh. . .” Danny reached into his hoodie sleeve and pulled out a small hand saw. He guessed he coulda used a knife, but it was the first thing he'd thought of.
The guy spluttered. “You just keep a saw in your sleeve?”
“Yep.” Danny popped the P. No need for them to know he can make portals. As tiny as needed. “You guys want help out of those, or what?” Danny gestured to the chains keeping the two bound on the floor.
“No, Joker’s goons outside probably has the keys, we have back-up. . . .coming. . . .where did you get that?”
Danny didn’t miss a beat as he crouched to get a grip on the chain with the large pair of bolt cutters. “Ah, ya know, never leave home without a good pair of bolt cutters.” He offered. The room they were in was pretty bare, saying he found it “lying around” wouldn’t work. It’d be pretty obvious.
“That is absurd.” The younger one said. “Where did they come from?”
Danny snapped the red one free and moved onto the angry eyebrows one. How did they still emote so well through those masks? “Just had it on hand.”
“But wh—“
“Oh look! There ya go! I gotta go, nice being held hostage with y'all.” Danny ignored their calls for him, climbing out of the nearest window and disappearing.
1K notes · View notes
Note
Hello I love your non con writings. Specially your rape smuts are top of the line. I througly enjoyed your Wony and SinB smut dump. Lily one was good too. Can you make Karina the next toy for your Smut Dump? Karina getting brutally raped in all of her holes for dating someone other than her fans or something similar would be amazing.
Smut Dump 4: Karina
A/N: Hello! I have nothing to say other than thank you! I couldn't be happier and truly glad that there's someone out there who enjoys my absurd work. Also, I'm sorry for taking so long to get to this. I hope you (and the others) have fun reading.
T/W: Gang Rape, Nasty Stuff, a little blood, Anal, Mentioned Prolapse
Tumblr media
Karina's hardcore fanboys discover she's been dating someone outside of her dedicated follower group. 
Enraged at her perceived betrayal, they ambush her as she leaves a recording studio late one night. 
They knock her unconscious and drag her into a dingy back alley reeking of garbage and stale piss.
When she comes to, Karina finds herself stripped naked, her wrists bound tightly behind her back in a kneeling position.
Three of her biggest fans surround her, leering maliciously as their rock-hard cocks jut out from unzipped pants. 
"You've been a very bad girl, Yu Jimin," one of them snarls. "Time to punish that stupid body of yours for stepping out on us."
The first fan, a tall skinny guy forces her mouth open and shoves his thick shaft deep into her throat, making her gag. 
Another bulky man spreads her legs wide as he slips underneath between her legs before positioning his swollen cockhead at the entrance to her slick unprepared slit. 
He then slams into her roughly, her muffled screams vibrating along the cock violating her mouth as he starts pounding her cunt mercilessly.
As the first guy keeps savagely face-fucking Karina, she gags and drools excessively, tears streaming down her cheeks from the rough throat penetration. 
"Fuck yeah, take that cock, you stupid cow slut," he growls.
Meanwhile, the second man hammers her pussy relentlessly. "Your cunt belongs to us, bitch. We're going to use every one of your fuck holes tonight to teach you a lesson."
A third man moves behind her, rubbing the thick head of his veiny cock against her puckered asshole. 
"Get ready for this monster cock to wreck this tight little asshole," he says with a sadistic grin.
He forces the bulbous tip into her resisting sphincter, making Karina wail in pain around the dick gagging her. 
Inch by inch he works his way inside her bowels, stretching her anal ring wide. 
Soon all three men are slamming in and out of her abused holes in a brutal rhythm, grunting like feral animals.
Karina's holes are savagely used by her vengeful fans as their assault intensifies. 
The one face-fucking her throat grips her hair in a fistful and hammers his thick slab of meat back and forth between her slobbering lips. 
"Choke on that fucking cock!" His balls slap loudly against her chin with each vicious thrust.
The other two men show no mercy either. Her pussy is drenched as the second guy's rigid pole batters it at a punishing pace, his heavy nuts swinging back and forth under her bruised thighs, spreading them even wider. 
The ass penetrator has buried half his considerable size into her vice-like sphincter, feeling it desperately contract around his violating shaft. 
"That's it, whore...loosen up that ass! You're gonna take every inch whether you like it or not!"
The collective sounds of excessive wet flesh on flesh, gagging, sobbing, and fierce male grunting fill the filthy alley as Karina's perfect body is annihilated in a bone-jarring triple penetration. 
Her fans are vicious, degrading animals, releasing weeks of built-up frustration through violently using all her holes.
Karina arches her back sharply, gagging loudly as the cock slides deeper down her constricted throat. 
The man face-fucking her grasps her head firmly with both hands, using it like a human fuck toy while snarling nasty insults.
Behind her, the fan pounding her sopping pussy from below slams upward with harsh, piston-like strokes. 
Stringy ropes of her unwilling arousal cling to his lapidated length, coating his groin and upper thighs. Her knees are forced up and out.
The third savage penetrating her asshole laughs loudly as Karina squeals around the mouth-invader. 
His hands grip her fleshy asscheeks like a steering wheel, spreading them apart to grant deeper access to her clenched rectum. 
Already over half his thick cock has been forced into her bowels.
Her big, saggy breasts sway and jiggle furiously from the intense triple-pronged onslaught. 
One man lashes out, taking turns slapping them viciously with his open palm, leaving reddening handprints on her pale, sweat-slicked flesh.
"Look at these fucking udders flop around! Bet your new boyfriend doesn't get to abuse these titties like we do, you ungrateful bitch!"
The vicious pummeling and demeaning words rip more muffled wails from the human fucking doll.
"Oh fuck, here it comes, slut!" the fan throttling Karina's face grunts out a warning.
His cock swells thicker in her crammed mouth as potent seed explodes down her convulsing gullet. 
She's forced to swallow spurt after molten spurt, choking and gagging around the still-thrusting meat pole. 
When he finally pulls free, his shrinking prick leaving a sloppy trail of saliva and jism across her cheek, the furious man winds up and slaps her hard across the face. 
“Swallow it all, you worthless whore!!
Karina coughs and splutters, wailing in despair, "P...please, I'm so-sorry!” Another smack on her face. “Argh!! No more, PLEASE!"
But the other two ravaging her lower holes are far from satisfied. The one jackhammering her cunt grunts through clenched teeth.
"You hear that, bitch? We're NOWHERE near done with you yet!" Just then his swollen tip swells further as his own pent-up explosion hits. 
A high-pitched squeal rips from Karina as her insides are bloated with thick ropes of scalding seed, painting her womb white.
"OH FUCK OH GOD PLEASE!" she babbles, tears and mascara streaking black down her reddened cheeks. 
Her pleas fall on deaf ears as the anal ravager continues rearranging her guts savagely.
A deep, satisfied groan escapes the man who just pumped Karina's formerly pristine womb full of his thick seed. 
Instead of withdrawing, he stays hilted inside her aching, puffy pussy, savoring the hot velvet sensation as her violated channel quivers around his still-rigid cock.
"C'mere, you traitor slut," yanking her upper body down to lay atop his heaving chest. 
Large calloused hands grasp and squeeze both doughy tit-udders, mashing them against his grinning face.
Karina's sobs renew as his mouth latches harshly onto one dark nipple. He sucks obscenely while biting down, clamping the tender nub between his teeth. 
A high-pitched shriek rings out as he draws blood, crimson spotting his lips and chin.  
"ARGH! P-PLEASE, NOOOO!" she bawls piteously. But none show mercy. 
The burly man double-stuffed in her tight asshole stiffens, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he erupts. 
Karina's scream mingles with his guttural roar as his nasty cum floods her ruined anal hole, splattering up into her guts.
When he finally wrenches free, her abused sphincter is left gaping. She can't control it as her bowels unleash a wet gurgle.
A thick, sticky thread of cum and yellowish fluid oozes from the prolapsing rosebud, drooling down her thighs.
With sinister grins, the depraved gang haul Karina's floppy form over to the nearby dumpster. They bend her over it roughly, not caring about the foul stench of rotting garbage surrounding them. 
One grabs her by the throat, forcing her upper body down against the filthy metal lid as another moves in behind.
"Make sure this fucking bitch screams for us," he barks, lining his puffed cockhead up with her gaping, slimy asshole. 
Gripping her hips in a vice, he slams forward, impaling her ravaged rectum on his entire length in one deep thrust.
"AAAAAAGGGHHHH!!!" Karina screams, mouth gaping in a rictus of utter agony. 
Jagged shards of pain lash up her spine as the thick cock stretches her destroyed sphincter wide yet again.
The other two men take turns using her flayed arms as leashes, pulling her battered body back onto their friend’s awaiting cock. 
Sobs and pleas tumble from her drooling lips as they take turns piercing her creampied cunt with no respite.
"P-Please... Slow down— M-Mercy!! " she garbles out amidst hysterical bawling. "I...I c-can't... AAAAGGGHHH!!" 
But her tormentors are deaf to her abject begging.  All they care about is achieving twisted pleasure through demolishing her idealized form into a broken wreaking of bodily fluids and humiliation.
The merciless assault intensifies, if such a thing is possible. 
Karina is yanked off the dumpster lid entirely by the two deviants raping her cunt and asshole in rapid succession. 
Her shapely legs are lifted high, calves draped over shoulders as the two maniac fans impale her holes with frenzied, upward slam.
"AAAAHHHH!!! P...PUH-LEEEEZE!!" she wails, voice already growing HOARSE from the relentless screaming. 
Spits and smeared mascara streak her blank face as Karina is rag-dolled between two punishing cocks. 
Each time her raw pussy is vacated, it gapes horrifyingly, exposing her insides before the next thick cock buries itself to the root.
One impatient fan shoves forward, mauling her pendulous, sweat-soaked breasts as he waits his turn. 
Fingers claw and squeeze the supple flesh without mercy, leaving crimson weals from his vicious grip. The metallic taste of her torn fills his tongue.
"Look at these fucking udders!" he bellows with sadistic glee. "These fat tits are MINE next, you hear?!" 
He spits a thick loogie directly onto one upturned tit-curve before burying his face into the bountiful sweaty valley, rutting like a bull.
Karina's once pristine, porcelain features are now a puffy, streaked, ruined mess. A lifetime's worth of hardcore porn couldn't prepare her for this level of violation.
The onslaught continues until every last one of the vengeful fans has emptied their swollen balls into Karina's formerly tight holes. 
Over and over they take turns demolishing her gaping cunt and prolapsed asshole with ruthless poundings, leaving her continuously oozing thick ropes of cum.
By the end, the starlet is barely conscious, her naked, ruined body covered in dried and fresh streaks of cum, sweat, and tears. 
Mascara-stained eyes are half-lidded, vacant expressions of utter shock upon her once radiant face. Throaty cries and whimpers occasionally escape her purpled lips. 
"That'll teach this slut to start respecting her real fans again," one of the men says, zipping up his soiled jeans. 
The others snicker and spit on Karina's quivering form in disdain.
With a hard kick to her side that forces out a wet belch of their combined expenditures, the guys slink off into the night. 
The disgraced idol is left a cum-drenched and nearly-unrecognizable heap amid the reeking alleyway filth.
663 notes · View notes
ghostofhyuck · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
NCT Dream when they accidentally kissed their best friend.
CW: smoking in Jaemin's part.
Mark Lee
It was a very intimate moment between you and your best friend Mark. You were learning how to play a guitar, struggling to find the right chords while Mark just watch you in awe. You were always oblivious with your best friend's feelings for you even though he's very very obvious about it. Mark's stare trailed down to your lips, an absurd feeling of wanting to taste it. And as if he lets his intrusive thoughts win, he leans onto you but straightly towards the cheek. The love-struck Mark was surprised with his actions --- both of you actually. He apologizes immediately, telling you that he has no excuse to his actions while you just sat there looking like a blushing mess.
Huang Renjun
You were bored when you suggested that you and Renjun do a peppero game for the last stick. Thinking that it's just nothing, Renjun agreed. The game starts and slowly, the stick becomes short. You're getting closer to Renjun and as he bites, he can feel your lips brushed to his, making him lean back --- falling from the sofa that you two were sitting. You were surprised by the event but as soon as Renjun stands up, he apologizes quickly for kissing you! You assured him that it's nothing at all, but somehow was flustered by the thought that you two kissed. 
Lee Jeno
You and Jeno were late. So both of you are in a rush, running towards the bus station. Jeno reaches the bus station first, trying to catch his breathe when unknowingly you collided with him. He managed to catch you in his arms before you two fall on the ground. You immediately stood up, realizing that it was your fault that you tripped because your shoelaces are untied. You began apologizing, checking your dazed best friend if he had any scratches with him. But Jeno could only remember the cherry taste of your lips, wondering why you didn't noticed that you two kissed. He wonders whether he'll bring it up to you or not. 
Lee Donghyuck
You and Haechan were close. Way too close. But you two are in the club and the proximity is bound to be close. You're facing him, dancing like there's no tomorrow when someone bumped onto you, making you stumble upon your best friend. You both laugh as you stare at Haechan, and then the next thing you knew, his lips crashed onto yours. You remember how vivid the kiss was that when you brought it up to Haechan, he was clueless, too drunk to remember about it. Seeing how disappointed your expression was, your bestfriend tried his best to recall the events, especially when you two kissed. 
Na Jaemin
You and Jaemin are sitting outside the club. The dirty pavement of the street were comfortable enough for you and his drunk self, both giggling idiots trying to sober up by smoking. You leaned against him, letting the cold air freshen you up when you felt Jaemin's arms wrapping around you. The next thing you knew, his lips landed on the top of your head before leaning against it too. You broke out from his hold, seeing that both of you had a surprise on the look on their face. Jaemin began apologizing for kissing you if it bothered you and told you that he did because the moment was too intimate for him. That's when you knew that you have a lot to clarify with Jaemin once both of you are sober. 
Zhong Chenle
Chenle was yapping with something about basketball while you were just sitting there, nodding as he continues to talk. You were scrolling through your phone when you saw a funny meme that you know Chenle will laugh, so you turned your head towards him --- at the same time Chenle leans. His lips directly went to yours and to your surprise, you scrambled out of the sofa while Chenle laughs at the incident. You were blushing red due to embarrassment while Chenle's red from laughing too much, but as soon as he calms down, your best friend apologizes for the kiss even though both of you knew that it was an accident. 
Park Jisung
Jisung was staying over your place that he woke up late. So he was rushing over packing his things and putting on some clothes. It made you panic too that's why you helped him pack some of his things. And when all things are perfect, Jisung bids you goodbye but you were caught off-guard when his lips crashed onto yours. You are used to the kiss on the cheeks since it's a platonic thing for both of you. Before you could say anything, Jisung already left. You stood there frozen, but what you didn't know that the moment Jisung was just outside, he realized what he just did. He doesn't know what to do, whether to go back or catch his class. In the end, he knocks once more, telling you that he's sorry and then dashes away. 
583 notes · View notes
Text
Infernal Shadows 04.
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it, last part was a cliffhanger but here we are surviving :) Some background on Madame and I pray you guys get the reference with the name of the exorcist
A/N: I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!! I finally got this out and I added to it so this is a longer chapter than anticipated. I’m so horribly sorry for taking forever to get this out, I had like so many reports to do for my job and this was just calling to me. I hope you guys didn’t forget this and if you did I totally don’t blame you. Not to fret though, I have big plans coming soon, and I’m pushing for longer chapters to keep you people fed. I love you all so so so much! Happy reading and thank you for being so patient and for all the kind messages I got! As for the taglist, I’m afraid it’s closed as of right now, just because I physically cannot tag anymore people on these posts, so I’ll try to figure something out with that!
Tags: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @sillysillyxinnabun @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @only-cherry-blossom @sockgoblin @nxrdamp @1-800-no-users-left @l0ca1ax010t1 @inutheangel @reader-of-worlds @writing-fanics @random-person07 @ghostdoodlen @elaemae @fantasy-angelo @tanjirosworld @patchesofdreams @sunnyslug @reineurynome @scoliobean @arrozyfrijoles23 @kimmikreates @lqmons @amarokofficial @mangobango69
Word count: 5694
Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity writes (event)!! // Part three //
Tumblr media
Charlie had almost jumped out of her seat upon seeing the excorsist by your side. The water spout collapsing quickly, water violently splashing all around. A crowd of ‘ooh’s and ah’s could be heard from the crowd as you finally revealed the exorcist to everyone, allowing the sinners around to get a better look at the pet with you. The exorcist next to you was a woman, who looked fairly young. Her wings were large, white feathers with a sheer hint of gold. Her skin was ghostly white, and her eyes were equally as pale, almost a ghost. she looked around quickly, turning in her spot on the ground next to you, where she was kneeling. Her wrists were bound by chains and she stood quickly, wings flaring out. Yet, amid the spectacle, Charlotte couldn't help but notice a flicker of sorrow in the exorcist's pale eyes.
You stood next to her calmly, playing the violin as she stood, flying off the ground and up the middle of the coliseum, flying as quickly as she good. Her long hair, white with golden streaks, flowing as she flew up. Before she could get out however, a long black chain appeared around her neck, pulling her backward quickly, choking her. Her eyes went wide, hand reaching out to the sky above, a silent reach for heaven, before her angelic body was pulled back into the floor of the coliseum, body hitting the hard ground with a loud thud, the floor cracking beneath her upon the impact. Black chains began to hold onto her legs, her chest and neck as she fought against it, the chains lifting her high enough in the air for the crowd to see, making a mockery out of her, out of the exorcists above.
Charlotte's eyes widened, mirroring the shock and disbelief etched across her face as she witnessed the angelic exorcist's dramatic entrance. Alastor, usually composed, betrayed a subtle flicker of concern, his stoic demeanor momentarily shaken.
As the exorcist's wings unfurled, the sheer beauty of her appearance contrasted sharply with the ominous chains that bound her. The crowd's collective gasp echoed, drowning out the earlier applause.
Alastor's grip on his opera glasses tightened, a silent acknowledgment of the unforeseen depth this performance had taken. The music continued, but now there was an undertone of tension, each note echoing the internal struggle of the exorcist. Just the way you had intended.
The audience's gasps turned into uneasy whispers. Charlotte glanced at Alastor, finding a mix of fascination and unease in his expression. His smile looked almost painful, like a touch to him would have him shatter on the spot. She was not used to seeing him this way. Something was oddly unsettling about having him next to her in this way.
“Should we be watching this?” Velvet leans over to ask Vox, sketch book long discarded. He says nothing, eyes blown wide as he takes in the sight before him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever seen an exorcist, but this sight was different in itself. You were basically manhandling an exorcist right in front of everyone. This was holy power you were messing with. Tauntingly, making a fool out of this poor innocent girl. Vox wasn’t sure if he was supposed to run away, tail between his legs, or sit and watch the way you had wanted. To obey or disobey, like a dog.
The song was finally at its peak, the angels wings spread to its full length as she fought to get away, thrashing about as she fought again the chains. Charlotte feels her own throat tighten, her heart feeling heavy.
“I can’t watch.” Charlotte said, standing and moving to take her leave, but a large shadow blocked her path.
“Madame requests that you stay here.” The shadow spoke. Charlotte was silent and though she wanted to argue, decided against it.
Amidst the tension, the atmosphere in the coliseum grew heavier, the ethereal music now echoing a dissonant melody. As the angelic exorcist continued her struggle, a figure emerged from the shadows – a mysterious character, their presence felt more than seen.
This enigmatic figure, shrouded in darkness, approached Charlotte with a whispered urgency. "You hold the key to her liberation," the voice murmured, barely audible over the haunting notes of the violin. "Will you break the chains or become a spectator to her demise?"
Charlotte, conflicted and sensing a greater responsibility, looked at the shadowy figure, determination flickering in her eyes. With a newfound resolve, she turned towards the restrained exorcist, seeking a way to intervene and unravel the unsettling performance that had taken a dark turn. The coliseum, once a mere stage for entertainment, now stood witness to a moral crossroads where choices weighed heavily on the hearts of those present, and it was definitely making Charlotte contemplate her whole reason for being here.
Alastor's sharp warning reverberates through the air, his stern tone emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "Interruption during Madame's performance is ill-advised, my dear. It is best not to meddle in affairs beyond your understanding." he cautions, a hint of a threat underlying his words.
Rosie, with a more nurturing but firm approach, guides Charlotte back to her seat. "It's not the time, hon. Madame's got her ways, and we don't want trouble. Just watch and let it play out," Rosie advises, her gaze mirroring a subtle concern for Charlotte's safety.
As Charlotte reluctantly takes her seat, the tension in the coliseum persists, the haunting music and the struggling exorcist creating an eerie symphony that held everyone in a state of suspense. The shadowy figure lingers, observing the unfolding drama with a watchful gaze, leaving an air of mystery and uncertainty in its wake.
The resounding crash echoes through the coliseum as the angelic exorcist succumbs to the relentless chains, her divine form colliding with the unforgiving ground. The spectators, now silent witnesses to the spectacle's unsettling conclusion, feel the vibrations of the impact reverberate through the arena.
The once-beautiful performance has transformed into a scene of somber defeat, the ethereal music now hauntingly melancholic. The shadows that enshrouded the coliseum seem to deepen, casting an eerie gloom over the aftermath.
The mysterious figure in the shadows maintains a watchful presence, its intentions still unclear as the audience processes the unsettling turn of events. The coliseum, leaving an indelible mark on the collective psyche of those who bore witness. As the ethereal music slowly fades to silence, the chains metamorphose into spectral figures, gracefully carrying the defeated angel away. The abrupt stillness in the coliseum feels eerie, the aftermath of the performance leaving the guests, including Charlotte, in a state of uneasy reflection.
The band, once vivid and lively, dissipates like wisps of smoke, leaving an empty stage behind. Madame, now standing alone in the center of the coliseum, is joined by the largest shadow, a looming presence beside her. The shadowy figure addresses the hushed audience, explaining that they will be escorted back to Madame's home for dinner. "Ladies and gentlemen, the next act awaits within the walls of Madame's mansion. Your journey through her realm has only just begun.”
The guests, still processing the unsettling performance, are ushered towards their tables with a sense of quiet trepidation. The coliseum, now devoid of the vibrant spectacle, transforms into a place of anticipation as the guests prepare for the next act in Madame's enigmatic domain. Charlotte, visibly shaken, moves among the disquieted crowd. Zestial stands out, his calm demeanor contrasting with the collective unease. His eyes reveal a depth of understanding, leaving Charlotte to wonder what he really thought of the performance. As they return to Madame's home, the charged atmosphere persists, leaving everyone to ponder what awaits them in the next act of this mysterious and haunting night.
The shadows lead those seated privately with Madame through a mysterious portal, transporting them to a large, black room. The windows, tinted black from floor to ceiling, create an otherworldly aura. Bowls of floating fire cast dancing shadows around the room, adding an element of mystique. In the center stands an impressive dining table, crafted from black wood with matching black chairs adorned with white cushions.
White plates with a gold lining are meticulously arranged, each bearing a name card. The order mirrors the sequence in which the guests were initially invited: Alastor, Vox, Charlie, Velvet, Zestial, Carmilla, and Rosie. Three empty seats capture attention, the most prominent being the grand and ornate chair at the head of the table – undoubtedly Madame's seat.
However, two other unoccupied chairs add a layer of intrigue. One is positioned across from Madame, and the other is to her right. Vox, leaning casually against the black dining table, raises an eyebrow as he scans the unoccupied chairs. "So, did Madame forget to send out a couple more invites, or did she just not bother finding anyone else worth inviting?" His tone, dripping with casual disdain, prompts an involuntary eye twitch from Alastor and a scoff from Carmilla. The room is momentarily tense as the guests settle into their seats, the air thick with unspoken tension and the promise of an unconventional dining.
The large shadow materializes behind Madame's chair the moment everyone takes their seats. It speaks with a commanding presence,
"Madame will be joining you shortly, ensuring the guests are properly situated in the main dining hall. For now, you may all start with the drink of your choice."
As the shadow's words linger, the room is filled with the appearance of various drinks, each guest's preference seemingly anticipated. The other shadows swiftly deliver the beverages before seamlessly vanishing from view. In their place, a small orchestra emerges from the darkest corners of the room, ready to weave a musical tapestry that will accompany the unfolding feast.
The atmosphere in the black room remains charged with a sense of anticipation, the guests left to wonder about the mysteries that await in Madame's unconventional and enigmatic domain.
The anticipation peaks as the celestial display unfolds outside the tinted windows. Stars twinkle in the vast darkness, and constellations take shape, transforming the black room into a cosmic spectacle. The guests, mesmerized by the celestial scene, exchange awed glances.
”Oh this is so beautiful.” Charlotte says, glancing around at the stars.
In the midst of this ethereal backdrop, Madame makes her grand entrance. A sweeping gust of shadow accompanies her, like a cloak billowing in an unseen breeze. She moves gracefully, her silhouette weaving through the darkness, and steps into the room with an air of an almost royal confidence.
Madame wears an elaborate gown that seems to absorb and reflect the celestial light. Its deep, dark hues shimmer with a glow, adorned with intricate patterns that evoke the mysteries of the night sky, certainly fitting her specticle. Her presence commands attention, and a hushed silence falls over the room as the guests turn their gaze towards her.
A soft, melodic hum emanates from Madame, resonating with the orchestral tunes. The shadows, now at her command, align to form a fleeting silhouette of wings that unfurl and then disappear into the darkness. She takes her seat at the grand table, her eyes gleaming with a haunting form of excitement.
As Madame takes her seat, the celestial display beyond the windows intensifies, casting a glow over the dining room. The shadows, now intricately woven into ethereal patterns, dance along the walls, adding to the surreal atmosphere. With a graceful gesture, Madame signals the waitstaff shadows to present the first course. Exquisite dishes are unveiled, each a culinary masterpiece designed to tantalize the senses. Alastor’s eyes light up as his favorite dish is revealed — Jambalaya. Rich and spicy, it perfectly captures his love for bold and vibrant flavors.
Vox, always one for extravagance, is presented with Sushi. Delicate sushi rolls arranged like musical notes create a visual and auditory delight, harmonizing with each flavorful bite. Meanwhile, Velvet savors the spicy noodles on her plate, a cosmic array of ingredients adorning handmade noodles, reflecting her love for adventurous flavors.
Charlotte’s palate is delighted with the Harmony of Garden Greens, a vibrant salad showcasing fresh and wholesome ingredients. Zestial’s preference for refined flavors is indulged with a nice tender steak. Carmilla indulges in an enchanting dark Chocolate Fondue, a decadent dessert that mirrors her taste for the luxurious. Rosie, captivated by sweetness and charm, enjoys a stellar Strawberry Shortcake, a heavenly creation adorned with edible flowers. Rosie was grateful Madame hadn’t served her limbs this evening, though the craving was very much there.
As the guests savor their feast, Vox, unable to resist his penchant for stirring conversation, attempts to broach the topic of the enigmatic exorcist from Madame's previous performance. "Madame, that exorcist bit was quite the show, don't you think? Who was she, and why the dramatics?" Vox inquires with his signature flair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Though Alastor would never admit it, he was silently appreciative Vox was the one to voice the question. He knew Madame would have his head if he dared to ask. A large grin is displayed as he awaits Madame’s response. Knowing she is intolerant of being questioned on her decisions.
Madame, however, responds with a stern and unwavering gaze. "Vox, some matters are not for idle chatter. Rest assured, when the time is right, I will provide the explanation that is due." Her tone, though firm, carries a sense of ancient wisdom that tempers Vox's usual audacity. Alastor just grins to himself, happy she did not disappoint.
Carmilla, sensitive to the undercurrents of unease, feels a shiver down her spine. The cryptic response leaves her uneasy, but she keeps her feelings to herself. Madame's words hang in the air, a subtle reminder that there are depths to this realm that remain veiled. She is in control.
The aura intensifies as the orchestra weaves a haunting melody, adding an ethereal backdrop to the exchange. The guests, now caught in the delicate dance of shadows, flavors, and unspoken mysteries, await the unfolding of Madame's narrative. However, to their dismay, she leaves them empty handed.
The small orchestra adapts it’s tunes, complementing the dining room with melodies that resonate with the mysteries of Madame. The music sways between haunting and enchanting, guiding the guests through an experience that transcends the ordinary.
"I hope the food is to everyone's enjoyment," Madame remarks, her plate being set in front of her last. The guests, captivated by the transcendent feast, eagerly dig into their respective dishes. As the flavors unfold on their palates, a chorus of satisfaction fills the room.
“These are quite excellent.” Carmilla comments as she enjoys her meal. Madame only nods in response. Compliments flow freely from the guests to Madame and the shadows, expressions of delight escaping between bites. Alastor, savoring his Jambalaya, commends the bold and vibrant flavors.
The room resonates with the sounds of enjoyment, and Rosie, with the Strawberry Shortcake, receives nods of approval for the delightful sweetness. Madame, her strong composure unwavering, listens to the compliments with a hint of satisfaction. Everyone enjoys being praised.
As the melodies of the cosmos continue to weave through the air, the dining room becomes a mix of flavor and enchantment. The guests, immersed in the extraordinary experience, savor each moment, aware that this transcendent feast is not just a meal but the start to something haunting.
Things could not be peaceful forever though. Madame pushed back a bit and stood, immediately drawing everyone’s attention.
“I would like to thank you all for being such pleasant guests tonight. I do believe a lot has happened since the last extermination. I am aware you overlords, or the ones that had the decency to show up, are aware that we must do something to protect our souls. Which begs the question.” Madame stops, taking her time to look at everyone. “What do you plan to do when the exorcists come down here to kill you all?” She asks bluntly. Carmilla inhales sharply not saying much, which Zestial just sips a cup of tea, his usual. Alastor and Rosie exchange a glance, but before anyone can say anything, Vox interjects.
“Well Madame I think you’ll be pleased to know Vox-tech has been working on protection for the people and-“
“Do you really think a piece of technology will stop this?” Madame asks. Her eyes narrow at him, and Vox silently sinks into his seat. Madame sighs, her shadow pulling her chair farther back so she can walk around the table, to the empty seat across from her. “Since you all clearly have no clue what to do, I presume I’ll share my idea.” Madame says, before she snaps her fingers. In an instant, a large shadow, almost in the shape of a sphere, forms next to her. It’s whispy and hyperactive, almost alive, before it sinks to the ground. Slowly it’s fades away. The guests stand, wanting to get a closer look, before the shadow turns to fog, and falls away. There in it’s place is the exorcist from the coliseum.
“Madame-!” Carmilla says, but is met with a stern look from Madame.
“Something wrong?” She asked. A chain formed around the exorcists neck, one that wrapped around Madame’s hand. She holds it tight, like she’s holding a wild animal back. Velvet wonders if this is because she’s afraid, or excited.
“Go on. Speak.” Madame says to the girl next to her. She looks down at the ground, a bit bruised but shining brightly nevertheless.
“I do not wish-to fight.” The girl says, and Madame just smiles.
“Let her go.” Charlotte says. The overlords look at Charlotte with a surprised expression. Madame says nothing, and instead tilts her head to look at Charlotte.
“Let her go?” Madame repeats, and Charlotte nods.
“Yes. Let her go.” Charlotte says, suddenly feeling nervous. Madame doesn’t appear to be upset, which only confuses and makes Charlotte even more anxious.
“Very well then. Have it your way.” Madame says, dropping the chained leash. Suddenly, the exorcist flies up and lunges at Zestial, attacking him. The overlords all disperse, watching as he throws her off of him.
“No! Wait stop!” Charlotte says, trying to get the situation under control. Alastor’s eyes widen, and he grins, tentacles appearing from the ground quickly, attempting to scare her by attacking her wings. The moment his tentacle touches the feathers on her back, it burns, and Alastor pulls back immediately, seemingly confused. The room erupts in screams and chaos, Rosie attempting to get the exorcist away from her as she tries to kill her.
“My dear, you do realize the mess you’ve made, yes?” Alastor asks as he summons himself next to Madame. She stands by the windows, the starts casting an almost colorful display over her, making her seem ethereal. Madame nods.
“Well then maybe you should get Lilith’s pet under control.” Madame inquires. Alastor just grins, nodding before lifting her hand to kiss the back of it.
“Of course Madame.” He says, before fading into his shadow. Carmilla stands next to a tired Zestial, while Velvet and Vox stand on the dining table, holding onto each other for dear life, while Rosie takes to poking fun at the exorcist, who seems to only want to harm Charlotte at this point.
“You filthy girl-!” The exorcist cries, before she chokes, a black chain wrapping around her neck quickly, and pulling her back.
“Enough Evangeline.” Madame says sharply. At this, the exorcist grows quiet almost immediately. Charlotte is in tears and on the floor, Alastor picking her up by her underarms, setting her straight.
“This is why you be quiet.” Alastor whispered to Charlotte.
“Oh~ that was fun! Let’s do this again.” Rosie says delightfully. Madame just nods to her, an unreadable expression adorning her features.
“Yes, let’s.” Madame says, tugging Evangeline’s chain sharply. Evangeline stands, now looking a bit shorter than Madame, while Madame’s shadows remove Vox and Velvet from the dining table. Quickly, everything is back in order, as Madame ushers the guests to take their seats. Now, Evangeline sits at the head of the table, across from Madame.
“Everyone, this is Evangeline, my sister.”
“Sister?” Vox asks, shying away from the exorcist.
“Didn’t you hear her?” Velvet asks, nudging him with her elbow. He just nods, but says nothing.
“Yes. Sister. I’ve obtained her for one reason and that reason only.” Madame said, before Zestial interjected.
“What reason doth that be?” Zestial asks. Madame just smiles, with a snap of her fingers, Evangeline is turned around, wings sprawled out.
“To send a message of course.” Madame says. Before a paper is presented to all the guests.
“During the extermination I had the pleasure of speaking to Adam.”
”Wait Adam like, first man Adam?” Velvet asked, and Madame nods.
“Yes, him. He believes he can wipe us out fairly quickly. He said he’d be back for me specifically.” Madame said, looking out to the windows, before continuing. “So, I decided it would be best if we sent him a lovely letter. Charlotte,” Madame said, “I know you spoke to him recently. If he wants to come to your hotel, I believe it’s only right we make other areas just as much of a target.” Madame said, before Carmilla frowned.
”Why should we? Won’t that make us all targets?” Carmilla asked. Madame nodded.
“Yes, but with too many locations they’ll spread themselves thin.” Madame said.
“Why are we talking about this in front of her?” Rosie asked, pointing to Evangeline. “Won’t she just tell them what we’re planning?” Rosie asked. Madame shrugged.
”Possibly. I never said she was going back alive.” Madame said. “But this topic can wait. I’m ready for dessert.” She said, and suddenly shadows were back with all kinds of desserts in the middle of the table. Evangeline was now facing the rest of the guests, all who stared at her with a predatory gaze.
Y/n L/n was born in the year 1885, with her sister, Evangeline, arriving in 1887, just two years apart. Y/n was the eldest among her siblings, having two younger sisters and a younger brother. Sadly, the youngest sister passed away at the tender age of twelve, a victim to scarlet fever. Despite this tragedy, Evangeline remained the darling of the town, known for her innocence and beloved by all. Meanwhile, their brother Arthur matured at a quicker pace than Evangeline.
The family's prosperity stemmed from being victims of the Salem witch trials back in the 1600s. This dark history actually served as a catalyst, enabling their ancestors to establish a business that had been passed down through generations, making Y/n the rightful heir. Initially, the business catered to workers and provided scrubs, but Y/n had grander visions.
Under Y/n's leadership, the business transformed from producing simple workwear to crafting exquisite dresses, corsets, feathered hats, and other fashionable garments. These creations were designed to empower young women and elevate their sense of self-esteem, departing from the mundane work attire of the past.
As word spread of the boutique's exceptional offerings, affluent families began flocking to Y/n's establishment, seeking custom dresses and elegant accessories. Evangeline, always cheerful and accommodating, played a pivotal role in welcoming and attending to the guests while Y/n conducted business.
Despite the initial success and harmony, ominous clouds loomed on the horizon, signaling that peace and tranquility might not last forever.
Evangeline's heart fluttered whenever she was around Alexander, a charming and charismatic gentleman who frequented the boutique who was also from a wealthy family. Their budding romance seemed like a fairy tale at first, but little did Evangeline know, Alexander harbored hidden agendas. But Y/n could see it from a mile away. But alas, she let her younger sister be. She did not feel threatened by Alexander. To her, he was simply another walking wallet right into her arms.
As their relationship deepened, Alexander subtly planted seeds of doubt about Y/n in Evangeline's mind. He would gently question Y/n's decisions, pointing out areas where he believed Evangeline could excel if given more freedom.
"My darling Evangeline," Alexander would whisper, his voice dripping with honeyed words, "you're a diamond in the rough, waiting to shine. But Y/n's cautious approach is holding you back. Imagine what you could achieve with your own vision."
Evangeline, enamored and impressionable, began to see Y/n's protective actions as barriers to her dreams rather than safeguards for their family's legacy. Alexander's persuasive arguments fueled Evangeline's desire for independence and recognition.
"You deserve more than being just Y/n's shadow," Alexander would say, his eyes filled with feigned concern. "Don't let fear of failure hold you back. Take risks, Evangeline. Follow your heart."
Unaware of Alexander's ulterior motives, Evangeline started to view Y/n's guidance and decisions with skepticism. She began to prioritize her relationship with Alexander over the family's business, inadvertently straining her bond with Y/n.
As Alexander's influence grew, Evangeline's perception of Y/n shifted, painting Y/n as overly controlling and unsupportive of her aspirations. The once-close sisters found themselves on opposite ends, with Alexander's manipulative tactics driving a wedge between them.
Behind the facade of love and affection, Alexander manipulated Evangeline's emotions and perceptions, using her vulnerability to further his own agenda. The tangled web of romance and manipulation threatened to unravel the familial harmony Y/n had worked so hard to maintain.
One evening, as Evangeline sat in her room at the family estate, Alexander approached her with a concerned expression. "Evangeline, my love," he began, "I've noticed something troubling about Y/n's management of the business. It seems she's keeping you in the dark about important decisions."
Evangeline furrowed her brow, surprised by Alexander's revelation. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Alexander leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "I've heard whispers among the staff," he confided, "about Y/n making decisions behind your back, as if she doesn't trust you with the business's future. You deserve to have a voice, Evangeline. You shouldn't be kept in the dark."
Doubt crept into Evangeline's mind as she pondered Alexander's words. She had always trusted Y/n implicitly, but Alexander's claims sowed seeds of suspicion and resentment. "But Y/n has always had our family's best interests at heart," Evangeline countered weakly.
"Of course, my dear," Alexander reassured her, his tone soothing. "But perhaps Y/n fears that your ideas and vision might outshine hers. You're more than capable, Evangeline. Don't let anyone keep you from realizing your full potential."
In the following days, Alexander's subtle manipulation and peer pressure intensified. He highlighted instances where Y/n had made decisions without consulting Evangeline, portraying Y/n as controlling and domineering. "You're the future of this business, Evangeline," he would say, planting seeds of ambition and discord.
Fueled by Alexander's influence, Evangeline confronted Y/n during a heated family meeting about the business's direction. "Why are you keeping me in the dark, Y/n?" Evangeline demanded, her voice trembling with emotion. "I deserve to be involved in every decision!"
Y/n, taken aback by Evangeline's sudden hostility, tried to explain. "Evangeline, I've always valued your input, but some decisions require swift action. I never intended to keep you in the dark." Y/n would say sternly, trying to keep her composure.
But Alexander's words echoed in Evangeline's mind, clouding her judgment and fueling her resolve to assert herself in the business. The once-unbreakable bond between the sisters fractured under the weight of manipulation and misunderstandings, orchestrated by Alexander's cunning tactics.
Evangline’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she and Alexander stood before Y/n, their announcement hanging in the air like a storm about to break.
“We’re engaged, Y/n,” Evangeline exclaimed, her voice filled with joy. “And we believe it’s time for me to take over the business. After all, I’ll be married soon and would want to pass it down to our children someday.”
Y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief as Evangeline and Alexander stood before her, their engagement bombshell hanging heavily in the air. The room fell silent as Y/n processed the news, her shock palpable.
“You’re getting engaged without even discussing it with me first?” Y/n’s voice cracked with incredulity, her tone carrying a mix of surprise and hurt.
Evangeline, caught off guard by Y/n’s reaction, tried to explain. “Y/n, we thought you would be happy for us,” she said, her voice tinged with disappointment.
But Y/n’s shock quickly turned into frustration and anger. “Happy for you?” Y/n’s tone sharpened, her words laced with bitterness. “How can I be happy when you’re making decisions that affect our entire family without even consulting me?”
Evangeline’s expression faltered, her eyes filling with tears. “But Y/n, I love Alexander, and we want to build a future together,” she pleaded.
Y/n’s emotions boiled over, her hurt turning into harsh words aimed at Evangeline. “Love blinds you, Evangeline,” Y/n snapped, her voice rising. “You’re being manipulated, and you don’t even see it!”
Evangeline’s tears spilled over as Y/n’s words hit home. “I’m not being manipulated, Y/n,” she protested, her voice trembling.
But Y/n’s frustration didn’t stop there. Her gaze turned to Alexander, her tone dripping with disdain. “And you,” Y/n directed her anger at him, “using Evangeline to get to our family fortune, shamelessly preying on her innocence and trust.”
Alexander’s facade of charm faltered for a moment, his expression betraying a hint of unease. “I assure you, Y/n, my intentions are genuine,” he tried to placate her.
But Y/n wasn’t buying it. “Genuine? You’re nothing but a leech, Alexander,” Y/n’s words cut through the tension, her anger simmering beneath the surface. “I won’t let you manipulate our family for your selfish gain.”
As the tension escalates during the argument, Evangeline turns to Y/n, her eyes filled with confusion and hurt. “What do you mean, Y/n?” she asks, her voice trembling with emotion.
Y/n’s expression hardens, her resolve firm as she faces Evangeline. “The whole family can see it, Evangeline,” Y/n’s tone is resolute, her words cutting through the air. “Alexander is just after our money, and he’s using you to get to it.”
Evangeline’s eyes widen in shock, disbelief evident on her face. “No, that’s not true,” she protests, her voice tinged with desperation.
But Y/n doesn’t back down. “Open your eyes, Evangeline,” Y/n urges, her voice filled with urgency. “He drove Arthur away from you, manipulated him to keep you to himself. He’s tearing our family apart for his own selfish motives.”
The weight of Y/n’s words hangs heavily in the air, the truth of the situation sinking in for Evangeline amidst the chaos of emotions and accusations.
In response to Y/n’s accusations, Alexander turns to Evangeline with a dismissive smirk, his tone dripping with condescension. “Evangeline, Y/n is lying,” he asserts confidently. “She’s never been in love, so she wouldn’t even know what she’s talking about.”
Evangeline, torn between her trust in Alexander and the unsettling doubts planted by Y/n’s words, looks to him for reassurance. “But Alexander, I love you,” she insists, her voice wavering with uncertainty.
Alexander’s charm kicks into full gear as he takes Evangeline’s hand, his gaze filled with faux affection. “And I love you, my dear,” he replies smoothly. “Don’t let Y/n’s jealousy and lies cloud your judgment. We have a future together, away from all this drama.”
As the tension reaches its peak, Y/n’s resolve remains unyielding as she delivers a stark ultimatum to Evangeline. “If you choose to marry him, Evangeline, I will never speak to you again,” Y/n’s voice is firm, her words carrying the weight of finality. “You will be disowned from the family and removed from the business entirely.”
Evangeline’s eyes widen in shock and hurt, her voice barely above a whisper as she asks, “Why are you doing this to me, Y/n?”
Y/n’s expression softens for a moment, but her determination doesn’t waver. “I’m thinking of the family business, Evangeline,” Y/n’s tone is unwavering, her words laced with a mix of sadness and pragmatism. “I’m thinking of what will benefit us, not silly emotions like love that can be manipulated and used against us.”
The gravity of Y/n’s decision hangs heavily in the air, the rift between the sisters widening as Evangeline grapples with the harsh reality of Y/n’s ultimatum.
Evangeline's voice trembles with a mix of defiance and sorrow as she tells Y/n, "I'm going to marry Alexander anyway, Y/n." Her eyes reflect a sense of resignation, knowing the rift her decision will create between her and her sister.
Y/n receives the wedding invitation in the mail, her heart heavy as she reads Evangeline's words inviting them to the wedding. Despite the hurt in Evangeline's voice, Y/n remains steadfast in her decision not to attend, unwilling to condone a union she strongly opposes. This choice further deepens the rift between the sisters, leaving Evangeline feeling the pain of their absence on her special day.
“You don’t need her anyway.” Alexander says to Evangeline when she tells him how hurt she was her sibling did not show up.
In 1901, tragedy strikes as Evangeline dies during childbirth. The funeral is held, and Y/n, Arthur, and Evangeline’s only child, a son, attend. However, Alexander chooses not to attend and sends his son with the nanny instead. Y/n isn’t surprised, but she did debate going to their estate to tell Alexander how much of a horrible husband he was.
In 1915, Y/n tragically dies from poisoning due to alcohol. The family faces yet another loss, marking the end of an era filled with turmoil and strained relationships. Arthur is the last sibling left, the head of the business, and serves out his life fulfilling Y/n’s visions, making her the face of the family name forever.
“You always did only worry about yourself.” Evangeline thought to herself as she began her dessert.
660 notes · View notes
magiclostinfantasy · 5 months
Text
Blind Date || Theodore Nott x Reader
Warnings: swearing, Draco trying to play matchmaker Summary: Y/N and Theo's friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they've secretly been dating. <><><><><><><><><> The dim glow of Madam Pudifoot's teashop enveloped the small, intricately decorated table where Theodore Nott and Y/N L/N found themselves seated. The atmosphere was filled with the scent of freshly baked pastries and the soft murmur of whispered conversations. It was a setup, a blind date orchestrated by their well-meaning, yet slightly misguided friends.
Unbeknownst to them, the couple in question had been keeping a secret for the past year. A secret that bound them together in a well concealed relationship, away from the prying eyes of their fellow students. As Theo sipped his tea, his eyes met Y/N's, and a burst of laughter escaped them both. The absurdity of the situation hit them like a spell gone awry, and the tension that typically accompanied blind dates dissipated into the air.
The teashop patrons looked over at the unexpected outburst, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Theo and Y/N, however, couldn't contain their laughter. Theo wiped away a tear that had formed in the corner of his eye, and Y/N's smile widened, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.
"Fucking hell, this is not what I expected," Y/N shook her head in amusement.
"Neither did I, love." Theo agreed, his laughter subsiding into a warm smile.
"Clearly, those idiots don't know us as well as they think they do," Y/N replied, chuckling. "But it's kind of sweet, in a mischievous sort of way."
Theo nodded, his eyes gleaming. "How about we head somewhere more… comfortable?"
Y/N smirked, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I know just the place."
Leaving Madam Pudifoot's behind, the two Slytherins strolled through the dimly lit streets of Hogsmeade, the cool night air turning their cheeks a deeper red. As they approached the warm glow of the Three Broomsticks, Theo couldn't help but press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. He recalled stolen moments and shared laughter that had been kept a secret from their friends.
Finding a cozy corner booth in the Three Broomsticks, Theo and Y/N settled in. The atmosphere was lively, with the sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful banter filling the air. They ordered butterbeer and raised their glasses in a silent toast to the peculiar turn of events that had brought them to the popular wizarding pub.
Meanwhile, their friends back at Madam Puddifoot's had realized the unintended consequences of their matchmaking adventures. Draco Malfoy, the mastermind behind the blind date scheme, furrowed his brow in confusion as he watched Theo and Y/N leave the teashop together.
"Shit, did we miss something?" Pansy asked, glancing around at the other friends who were equally perplexed.
Blaise shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Seems like our Slytherin lovebirds have their own plans."
Back at the Three Broomsticks, as Theo and Y/N continued to enjoy each other's company, a group of familiar faces burst through the door. The Slytherins looked around, spotting the couple in the corner booth. The surprise on their faces quickly morphed into amusement.
"Well, well, well, look who we have here," Mattheo teased, a sly grin playing on his face. "Our little Slytherin lovebirds on a secret rendezvous."
Theo and Y/N exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter once again. It seemed their friends had unwittingly orchestrated a reunion rather than a blind date.
"We've been dating for a year you fucking idiots." Theo exclaimed, wrapping his arm around a giggling Y/N.
Draco raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. "Well, we might need to brush up on our matchmaking skills."
Pansy raised a brow at him. “Bitch, you mean you need to brush up on your matchmaking skills.”
The group rolled their eyes as Draco and Pansy continued bickering. Squeezing in, they all joined the couple in their booth and The Three Broomsticks became a backdrop for the Slytherins.
Amidst the shared laughter and clinking of glasses, Enzo raised his butterbeer in a toast. "To unexpected surprises and these two lovey-dovey pieces of shit!" He winked at them.
The sentiment was met with cheers and smiles from the group. Theo and Y/N exchanged a glance, their hearts swelling up.
As the night drew to a close, the group left the Three Broomsticks. Theo and Y/N walked side by side, their fingers entwined, grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought their hidden relationship into the open.
The moon hung high in the sky as they made their way back to Hogwarts, the castle standing tall against the night. Theo squeezed Y/N's hand, and they exchanged a silent understanding that their secret was now a shared treasure among their friends.
1K notes · View notes
icyminghao · 10 months
Text
let me take care of you
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: husband!seungcheol x pregnant!fem!reader genre: fluff, drabble warning(s): mentions of food word count: 0.7k
summary: seungcheol has been acting uncharacteristically nice to you, and you’re not sure why.
a/n: for seungcheol’s day <3
Tumblr media
“Cheol?”
You hear faint but chaotic sounds of rustling coming from your shared bedroom as Seungcheol bursts out of the aforementioned room shortly after, practically bounding to your side by the couch like it was an emergency. “Yes, darling?”
You giggle in pleasant surprise at his antics. “What do you want to have for dinner?”
“Anything you want, honey, I’ll order it,” Seungcheol takes a seat beside you and grabs your hands in his, rubbing small circles on the back of your palms.
“I was thinking of cooking tonight,” you purse your lips in thought, “What do you think of pasta?”
“No!” Seungcheol raises his voice a little, flinching at the volume before flashing you an apologetic smile. “I mean, no, you shouldn’t cook tonight. If you want pasta, I can cook it for you.”
You laugh at Seungcheol’s adamant tone. “Cheol, you’ll burn down the kitchen. Let me do it.”
“Nooo,” Seungcheol whines, shaking your hands as he lets out the cutest pout. “If I can’t do it, then let’s order.”
Your lips stretch into an amused smile at Seungcheol’s absurd behaviour.
“Okay,” you reply, admitting defeat to Seungcheol’s sheer stubbornness. You move to get up, and Seungcheol immediately sets you down.
“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes widening in alarm.
“I’m… thirsty?” you reply with a question, utterly confused at Seungcheol’s behaviour.
Seungcheol’s mouth forms an ‘o’ at the realisation, before he removes his hands from yours to practically sprint into the kitchen. You’re dumbfounded in equal parts confusion and amusement at this point, turning around to see Seungcheol frantically grabbing a mug and pouring water out of a jug before quickly but carefully making his way back to you.
You take the mug from his hands with an eyebrow raised, but Seungcheol doesn’t seem to notice. “Thank you, Cheol.”
Seungcheol hums in acknowledgement, simply watching you with endearment as you drink from the mug he took for you.
“Oh!” you exclaim, moving to get up again, “I left the book I wanted to read on my table.”
“Wait!” Seungcheol sets you down immediately again, moving to get up himself, “I’ll get it for you.”
You’re left absolutely stunned as Seungcheol paces to your shared bedroom immediately, before returning with the book you wanted to get, slightly panting but looking as cute as ever as he stands in front of you, holding out your book with two hands and a goofy grin plastered on his face.
“Thank you…?” you’re more than uttterly confused at this point as you take the book from his hands. Seungcheol grins even wider, moving to take a seat beside you gleefully. You look on the situation with a perplexed expression, unsure of how to explain Seungcheol’s weird behaviour.
“Cheol, what’s gotten into you?”
Seungcheol’s eyes widen, and he simply smiles sheepishly in response. “Nothing…?”
You raise an eyebrow in skepticism, your lips stretching into a small smile at his horrible attempt at lying. “You’re unusually nice to me today.”
“Can’t I be nice to my wife?” Seungcheol reasons, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. You stifle a giggle.
“Cheol…”
Seungcheol simply pouts even more, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he turns his head downwards to avoid eye contact. He murmurs something barely audible, and you furrow your brows in confusion. “Huh?”
“Jeonghan scolded me and told me to treat you better since we have a baby on the way,” Seungcheol mumbles, still not looking into your eyes. You smile even wider at the mention of your mutual best friend.
“Cheol…” you place your mug and book on the coffee table and reach up to cup his cheeks, squishing them a little. “You’ve always been treating me well. There’s no need to treat me any better just because I’m pregnant, okay?”
Seungcheol lets out a whine, protruding his bottom lip in an adorable pout that makes you just want to coddle him.
“But I want to take care of you…” Seungcheol leans into your touch and sulks, eliciting a huge, amused smile on your face.
“Well, there is a way you can take care of me,” you beam at Seungcheol, and his eyes widen in anticipation.
“Cuddles?”
Seungcheol grins. How could he ever say no to you?
Tumblr media
a/n 2: this was kinda bad i’m so sorry 💀
taglist: @slytherinshua @xomingyu @belladaises @pepperonidk @tastymintchocolate @smilehui @dahliatopia
masterlist
2K notes · View notes
kisses4kaia · 5 months
Note
MORE BROTHERS BEST FRIEND BILLY THE KID I BEG OF YOU
GIBSON GIRL .ᐟ
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing— brothersbestfriend!william h. bonney x fem!reader
warnings— smut, forbidden relationship, p in v, oral (m and f receiving) EVERYONE IS LEGAL!!
a/n— this took an absurd amount of time sorry! she’s here now tho so plz reblog if u enjoyed! (also not a part two to the first one 🤍)
Tumblr media
“billy, make sure she’s safe while i’m gone, will you?” jesse asks his best friend in reference to you, his innocent, sweet, little sister. and naturally, without any hesitation, billy nods. “of course, always,”
there’s something about his tone when he says it, something that hints that his opinion of you isn’t entirely fraternal, but perhaps something more profound. jesse doesn’t catch onto that, though; never having been the brightest tool in the shed.
almost ignorantly, he just nods at billy in respectful acknowledgment, kisses you on the cheek, all before leaving the house, heading into town for whatever errands needed running, leaving you and billy alone for many unsupervised hours.
god, the tension between the pair of you was palpable���thicker than molasses and sweeter than it, too. to make matters worse for the outlaw, recently, you took up a new hobby—making billy squirm. making innuendos just barely passable as innocent banter, being on your best behavior and letting him know you were like this just for him, then going and turning it around completely, becoming a complete and total brat, not heeding to mind a single word he speaks.
and fuck, it was driving him insane. he felt so ashamed of himself on nights when all his mind could conjure up before bed was images of you—images the lord would frown upon sincerely—and end up with a cum-splotched torso and a still unsatiated cock. he hated you for it.
you, with your too-tight denim shorts in july, and with your ribbons in your pigtail plaits, and your sweet, soft, wickedly tantalizing, eyes and even more venomous voice. everything about you drove him mad, and it was the very nature of your relationship that irked him the most—because, he knew, as desperately as he wanted, he could not have you. you were his best friends little sister, for christ’s sake! it was never bound to end well for him. honestly, he felt like the fates had fucked him.
so now, when you are in your bed, reading a romance novel you’ve already read twice, something outside of your window catches your eye. billy is currently out on the farm with the horses, tending to them. not an uncommon sight, however since it’s august, and this is the midwest, and it is hot—almost naturally—billy has abandoned his linen, button-up, shirt and is wearing nothing but a dirt-stained wifebeater, his trousers, and gun holster—and of course, his cowboy hat. you bite your lip at the display, sure this must be a product of one of your many erotic dreams about your brothers best friend, but all of that is debunked when he looks up at you, his catching the way your bottom lip is folded behind your teeth and your lingering gaze is burning onto his toned arms—probably a result of workin so hard as a farmhand and cowboy his whole life, you reckon—and meeting your piercing gaze.
you decide to push yourself off of your pretty, bowed, sheets and make your way downstairs to the trouble that lies within the man you grew up right next to.
“you know, it’s rude to stare,” billy chimes while you sit on an old, rackety, rocking chair residing on the back porch of your house, watching billy on the ranch. “and you think i’m above being rude?” you cock your head slightly, almost challenging him but not quite. he rolls his eyes, obviously wanting to snap back but can’t find it in him, not when you’re looking at him like that.
soon, he’s done with the work needed to have been done (admittedly, he did make haste so as to keep you waiting on him), and he’s grabbing his shirt off the pole of the wooden fence that is caging the horses in, tying the sleeves around his waist. he doesn’t spare you a single glance as he walks into the home, but you know he’s silently beckoning you to trail after him—after all, you were only out here to ogle at him, weren’t you?
when you enter the threshold of your home, your eyes land upon billy, who is pouring himself a glass of cheap whiskey and plopping down onto your couch.
“c’mon, sit down,” billy offers, sweat on his brow as the brown liquor swirls around the crystal glass, his legs spread wide and his demeanor exuding assertiveness. “well, now don’t be silly, there’s no other seat,” you acknowledge the lack of another sofa in the cozy living room, and the one billy did sit on, was only big enough to seat one. “oh, that’s no problem, doll, just sit on my lap, hm?” he cocks his head at you, daring eyes telling you all you needed to know. your raise your eyebrows and smile. “are you sure that’s what you want me to do?” your voice is a single warning, and billy is clearly throwing all caution to the wind, because he laughs. “c’mon, baby, i’m a big boy, i know what i want,” you knew what his underlying message was and the implication urged you to begin walking towards the couch.
blue eyes bore into yours as you throw a leg on either side of his thighs, skirt splaying over the tops of your thighs. he downs all the liquor in the glass before placing it onto the small coffee table next to him, eyes never leaving yours. carefully, but not fearfully, he drags a finger from your calf all the way to your waist, before both of his large hands take a rest at your love handles. “careful, billy,” you say in a singsong voice, allowing your hips to slowly, very slowly, begin moving downwards unto billy’s crotch. your arms lazily wrap around his neck, forearms resting on his strong, broad, shoulders. he kisses his teeth, bringing his face closer to yours ever so slightly, whiskey breath fanning over your face, chest, décolletage. when his lips finally encase yours, there’s so much built-up tension flowing in the passionate manner in which he kisses you, his palms grip onto your hips possessively before pressing all over your back, grappling desperately to get his calloused hands everywhere on your body all at once. he felt like he was drowning in you, but he would never call for help, for he needed you this instant and there was nothing stopping him from having you right here, right now.
“get on your knees,” he grits through his teeth, lust seething through the low growl that is his voice. you hardly think twice before moving back onto the plywood floor, knees already taking splinters, but you didn’t care, not when billy was unbuckling his denim trousers and letting his cock spring free from the confines of his boxers.
billy revels in the wide-eyed expression on your face as you take in his size. his cock was beautiful—angry, red, and proud, tip leaking with precum, pretty veins running vertically along the length. you swallow your surprise and slowly, you wrap a soft hand around the base of his length, bringing your lips down to his tip and pressing teasing kisses on it. the man above you lets out a soft groan, relaxing his muscles and allowing a strong hand to run through your hair, not quite gathering it yet, but maintaining it out of your face.
after peppering gentle kisses all over his hard cock, you finally flatten your tongue against the underside of him, licking up to the tip. you wrap your lips around his achy head and take as much as you can of him into your mouth, warm throat tightening around him. it takes everything inside billy to not immediately start fucking your fragile face, and when your tear-pricked eyes met his darkened blue ones, he roughly pulls you off of him. he throws you onto your back on the couch, like you weigh no more than a feather, hikes up your skirt and pulls your pale, pink, cotton, panties to the side. as he begins sliding his cock between your puffy folds, his tip brushes against your sensitive bud, and you whine, needing him to quit dangling the carrot and fuck you already. at the pathetic sound, billy just coos, pressing a gentle, loving, kiss to your pouted lips, before slamming his cock into your unprepared, sopping, cunt. you cry out against his lips and as he begins rutting his hips against yours, he’s trying to find restraint. he knows you probably won’t be able to walk properly for a week if he keeps fucking you like this, but the pent up tension finally being released urges him to keep fucking you primally—and plus, you wanted this, didn’t you? with your teasing, and your fucking miniskirts, everything you did was a beg for billy to fuck you into your place, right?
even in his sex-crazed state, billy’s still a gentleman who’s concerned with your pleasure just as much as his, and uses one of the hands he had rested beside your head to draw fast circles on your clit, pulling the most melodic sounds from you. they pushed him closer and closer to the edge and before you both knew it, billy was pulling out of your cunt, making you whine at the empty feeling, stroking himself a few times before painting your abdomen in his seed.
when he came down from his high, billy dropped down to his knees before you, skipping all the teasing he wanted to do (he would, next time) and licked a fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit and sucking momentarily. the muscle continued to work at you, dipping and fucking into your achy hole, and within minutes, your orgasm had crashed into you like a powerful ocean tide, struck by poseidon himself. you cried out his name, explicit weaved between your moans. billy just rides you through it, strong hands holding your wildly bucking hips down as you spasmed through your release.
“good girl, such a good girl,” billy cooed, the praise making your face go warm, even after he saw the most intimate parts of you. you brush off the compliment, afraid your own voice would betray you and instead reply “i take it this won’t be the last time we do… this?” and billy just chuckles darkly, picking you up off the couch and sitting himself back down, placing you prettily on his lap. “no, sugar. after this, you’re mine. understand?”
Tumblr media
674 notes · View notes