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ash-rigby · 6 months

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Who Knows, Who Cares? (Tentacle Monster) [F/?]

Featured Characters: Female human and a tentacle monster of indeterminate gender. Both are adults.

Description: Agatha has figured out how to conjure an inter-dimensional glory hole and enjoys the variety of monster dicks that come through. On one particular night, she is visited by a tentacle which treats her to an unexpected ending. Contains: Magical Glory Holes, Tentacles, Ovipositor, Egg-Laying, Stomach Bulge, Aphrodisiacs, Masturbation, Sex Toys.

Completion Date: November 7th, 2023

Word Count: 1609

There really should have been a warning provided about how addictive the spell would be. It was rare that an evening went by where Agatha didn’t activate the portal in all its brightly glowing, pink glory. The position of the other side was random among countless dimensions, its runes designed to be translated for whatever horny beast it appeared before. A hole with unmistakable purpose.

Agatha had made herself comfortable, propped up against her multitude of pillows as she lay in bed pumping a thick toy deep into her cunt. She had learned to loosen herself up a bit before summoning; there was no telling the size of what came through.

The towel Agatha had laid out beneath her was already slightly messy with lube. Wet, filthy noises mingled with her moans, her pussy squeezing around the toy. It was far from enough; she needed the feeling of some faceless creature’s cock throbbing inside her. The heat. The cum. The knowledge that whoever was on the other side only cared about getting themself off. A kind lover was great, but sometimes she craved to just be fucking used.

Needy and whimpering, Agatha used her free hand to trace the spell’s sigil in the air. Her room was bathed in magenta light, flaring as the circle came into existence on the mattress between her spread thighs. She waited a few moments as she continued to fuck herself and bite her lower lip with impatience.

“Please…please…anyone,” she begged, sweat glistening in the garish glow.

There was movement at the center of the circle. Agatha watched as a light blue, shimmering, translucent tentacle slowly began to emerge. It was long, lined with shallow ridges starting at the tip which faded to smoothness about eight inches down. She could see thin, faintly glowing purple veins just beneath the fleshy surface, pulsating rhythmically with the creature’s heartbeat.

Agatha softly gasped, removing the toy from herself and tossing it aside.

“Hello, gorgeous,” she said.

The tentacle felt out her foot, traced her ankle, and began caressing its way up her calf. She trembled as it slid over her thigh and trailed slime. It explored boldly, working inward until it found her pussy. The tip ran up and down the wet, twitching line of it, teasing her folds and making her achingly empty hole quiver.

“There it is,” she encouraged, though she knew she went unheard. “Mmm, there you go.”

Agatha expected to be swiftly filled as was typical of tentacles. She was used to such roughly-pumping appendages. For one to finish only for another to come through circle. Sometimes leading to being stretched around a deeply writhing mass of multiple; always leading to ending up leaking cum.

Instead, she watched as the end of the tentacle opened up into a sort of small, toothless, slick-dripping mouth. It latched onto her clit seconds later. Her head tossed back in time with a sharply sucked-in breath that released alongside a moan. A tight, warm, sucking sensation had the whole of her lower body shaking.

“Ngh—what are…fuck!”

The tentacle was relentless, ravaging Agatha’s clit. A tingling sensation spread out where it was attached. She felt the pleasure growing as it traveled down her legs and up her torso. It was a near numbness to all but where it mattered; she was hyperaware of her cunt. Leaking, twitching ceaselessly, on fire. She moaned louder and distantly wondered—but hardly cared—what the hell was in the tentacle’s fluids.

With her weak fingers gripping the sheets, Agatha lost herself to the intensity. Her hips squirmed and bucked. She cried out mindlessly, without words. Getting her clit sucked had never felt this good before. The constant action and whatever influence she was under had her head swimming and floating.

Agatha convulsed as she came, clit pounding in its confines. The tentacle continued to suck. A delirious giggling started to break up her wild moans. Waves of a prolonged orgasm crashed into her until she arrived at a second, near-blinding peak. She wailed, feeling fluid gushing from her, soaking the towel beneath her. It was only then that the tentacle released.

Panting and whimpering, Agatha tried to right herself in her own mind while her body screamed for more. Her clit felt more swollen than it ever had been, hot and throbbing madly. Her pussy was in much the same state as the last of her release dribbled out of her. The break didn’t last long. Seconds later, the tentacle was teasing aside her sensitive folds to find her hole.

“Ohhhh…oh, my—GOD!”

The word was punched out of her as the tentacle slammed in. Her pussy took it easily. Almost greedily; sucking it in and squeezing enough to practically conform to its shape. Her legs snapped open wider despite not needing to accommodate a body between them. It was a reflex. Instinct. Silent begging for a deep fucking. The tentacle quivered before beginning to thrust.

Agatha moaned as she felt the tentacle swell slightly inside her and increase its girth. The ridges ground into her as her insides pressed against it. Her heart hammered in her chest, echoed in the pulsing of her stretched walls. A mix of her fluids and the creature’s made a mess of her hole, audibly spurting from her with every plunge.

The pace became crazed. A rough, quick pounding. Agatha whined, breaths gasping from her open mouth. The frantic undulation of the tentacle was mesmerizing. She watched it reel back and slam forward, oozing along its entire length with some natural lubrication. Her pussy clenched, milking it; she needed that cum. The creature began to throb hard inside her, the veins glowing brighter.

But all at once, as the tentacle fully sheathed itself and stilled, Agatha knew something was different. Round shapes were visible in the inner organ as they travelled along the slick, twitching length. She barely had time to process it before the first popped into her. Eggs, her hazy mind supplied. The thing was laying eggs inside her. It should have scared and disgusted her, but it felt amazing.

Agatha’s gaze fixated on the monstrous appendage lodged in her cunt as she was filled with countless eggs. She could feel each one moving through the tentacle before joining the rest in a rapidly growing mass. There was no end to them in sight. Breathing hard, she watched her stomach start to bulge with them.

“Fuuuuuuck!” she moaned, eyes rolling from the alien sensation.

More and more eggs pressed in and filled whatever space they could find, clearly an amount that another of the creature’s species was designed to take. What did it know, or care, about human limits? Agatha’s belly distended; round, heavy and strained. She moaned and shook with ecstasy, but the mounting danger won over her greedy pussy.

“S-stop can’t—ahhh, take anymore!” she cried, doing her best to reach for the tentacle and possibly pull it out.

Luckily, the creature seemed spent. With a few final twitches, it slithered out of her. Agatha panted, half hoping that she would feel that delicious mouth on her clit again. But instead, the magenta light faded.

The tentacle was gone.

Agatha lay there for a while with her stomach full of eggs, whimpering as they shifted with her heaving breaths. They needed to come out. But first, she needed to cum. Her used body ached for it; the monster aphrodisiac pumping through her was the likely culprit, keeping that incessant pulse in her cunt despite her situation.

She reached for her vibrator that had miraculously stayed on her bed through her thrashing. A buzzing sound filled the air as she turned it on, angling it around her belly to rest on her still-pounding clit. The pleasure was a shock and she choked on her moan.

Agatha’s thighs trembled, pouring sweat. She gasped as something moved inside her. One of the eggs pushed through her passage, squeezing out of her hole with a wet pop. And damn did it feel good coming out. A second followed it, making Agatha whine. She continued to tease her clit, moaning as more eggs parted her twitching folds and gathered on the bed.

Heat engulfed Agatha’s pussy; everything—inside and out—throbbed hard. She had been filled to bulging with cum before, reveled in feeling copious seed dripping down her legs as she limped to the bathroom to deal with it. But nothing would ever rival these eggs; the stretch of them as her hole’s ecstatic twitching squeezed them out. They started to come faster, lining up so one could begin its exit right after the last.

“Mmmm! Keep coming…keep coming,” she chanted, grinding the vibrator harder against her clit. “Fuck, fuck—ahhhh!”

Nothing could have prepared Agatha. As she came, a flood of eggs escaped her. Quick, rhythmic expulsions in time with the rapid clenching and releasing of her insides. Her hips rose off the bed from the sheer, intense pleasure of the sensation, heels digging into the mattress. The eggs landed beneath her, plopping wetly onto the saturated towel. She kept cumming, a string of orgasms brought on by that sweet stretch.

Agatha dropped, empty—as far as she knew. She lay among a mess of fluids and monster eggs, her stomach having returned to its normal size. Her body still buzzed with the small amount of aphrodisiac still in her system and she mindlessly pawed at her sopping cunt, jolting with pleasured aftershocks and moaning weakly.

Somewhere in the haze, she resolved to find a way to make the spell locate the portal somewhere of her choosing. Now that she had just begun a list of creatures she wanted to revisit, after all.

End

Masterlist

#ash originals #text #spicy #terato #exophilia #monster love #monster lover #tentacles #ovipositor #oc:agatha

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pherelesytsia · 9 months

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Who did this to you? - 9

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend’s house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.7k

Part 8

Chains, bloodied and graced with torn rotting flesh, moulding in the light of the wanning moon, dangled in all directions in the howling wind. Bones cracked under polished shoes freckled by grime and coated with rotting leaves. The lightbulbs among the broken were shining faintly, breaking the doom, the utter darkness ruling in the endless corridor leading into different vacant rusty halls.

The wind was howling, a lonely wolf, a hound greeting the full moon. Water dripped through the holey ceiling of metal and musty wood. The old building, far away from civilisation, with shattered windows barricaded by boards was surrounded.

The man clothed in a form-fitting suit didn’t bear a map, didn’t need a compass to find the right path. The faint stench of mould lingered in the stiff air. Rats fled in great haste, screeched and warned the brothers hiding in the holes in the ground and empty chests. A few dark grey strands illuminated the dark sea. Untroubled Thomas followed the path. His fingers tapped against the polished metal. He did not put his gaze over his shoulder, focused on the light showing the end of the tunnel. Deep hush voices exchanged brief words and the grin on his lips widened, thought of ways to harm the men who had dared to touch his wife.

Thomas tilted his head. The light hit the tip of his shoes, but the Shelby, a demon, the devil himself waiting patiently, remained in the shadows. Deftly, he leapt to the side, hiding behind the cargo crates stacked high from India, Africa and the far East. Footsteps echoed and a soft whimper, a kitten, a newborn calling for its mother, fell silent. More men, dark dressed creatures, followed the order with drawn weapons and waited for the signal. Thomas leaned forward, peering through the crack between the crates. Two men, shabbily dressed, stood in the light of the flickering yellowish bulb, but his keen eyes couldn’t find the source of the whimper.

“The money?” the thinner one pecked, wiping the oil from his fingers on his trousers.

The taller one laughed, folding his arms in front of his bulging chest.

“The woman will pay us off. I called her. By the end of the day, we’ll get the money.”, “We should have killed his wife right away,” the other said, leaning against the cargo boxes.

“Karl, I would have killed her, but the other guy came. We would have died otherwise. I know him, Solomons. He would have killed us,” he interjected.

“And what are we supposed to do now, Jimmy?” Karl questioned.

“And what will happen to us, Karl?” Jim asked.

Karl shrugged his shoulders. Eyes widened in shock, screams followed, bullets pierced flesh and grazed bones. Men in suits stormed the old run-down complex, a tsunami swallowing villages and towns. Closely followed by his men, Thomas entered the room, stepped closer with his gun drawn, fired and hit the bull’s eye, ran ahead, searched and cursed, but didn’t find the woman. Sweat cascaded his face, turned, and hoped the men could answer his questions, but the eyes had paled. Cursing, Thomas stared at his brothers opening the crates in the hope of finding Peggy in one of them.

“Where is she?” Arthur asked, heaving.

John cursed, nearly fell into the crate. Perplexed, he stared into the distance, cursed under his breath, turned with paled features towards his brothers and mumbled a short prayer.

The moon wandered on, over land and mountains, on and on, climbing hills and swimming over lakes and raging streams. Under the cover of the moon, ghastly shadows crept forth. Light burned in the mansion far away from civilisation, from towns and villages. The vehicles parked in front of the mansion were not neatly lined up. Curtains were drawn and didn’t allow to witness the people warming themselves by the flames, gnawing on the hardened biscuits and awakening the sense with the dark unsweetened liquid. The phone didn’t ring, and the bell didn’t announce a guest.

The clock was ticking, heels clicked against the creaking hardwood. Voices had died down, the women did not chatter as the gentle voice breathing delicate word into the microphone sang of love and gentle kisses. The women exchanged meaningless glances, glanced at the man they thought would never enter the house, who had settled down by the fireplace and was leafing through the book with his legs crossed, staring again and again at the doors and windows in search of grim faces pursued by evil intentions. Y/N warmed her fingers on the cup filled with tea and dipped her tongue in the warm liquid.

“Don’t worry, they will be here soon. It’s just a matter of time. Don’t worry, my dear.” Ada breathed.

She flashed the shaking woman a smile, breathed encouraging words, but they couldn’t banish the fear from her heart.

“They’ve been gone for a long time. At least three hours now.” Y/N breathed.

“You worry too much Y/N/N. The Shelby can take something. If he’s not here by seven, then we’ll go looking for him together.” Alfie joked.

Y/N stretched her arms into the air. Sleep gnawed on her bones and the voice in her head assured her that all would be well, that Thomas was on his way back, that the door would open soon and he would stand with Peggy and a promise to change by her side. She counted the seconds, focused on the clock, yet Y/N had lost track of time and space a long time ago. Her eyes widened. The tiredness was gone with the wind. Groaning, Y/N jumped and threw the blanket away. A wall, the last wall of defence rose in front of her and a palm settled on her back.

“Come, little one. We will go together. You stay here. I have everything under control. I saw a car.” Alfie said.

Y/N tried to argue, telling him to stay with the others, that she wanted to go alone, but no words crossed her lips and nodded. Alfie smiled, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, stuffed his gun into the pocket, and guided Y/N away from the richly set table. Keys jingled. Alfie pushed Y/N behind him, but the young woman went ahead. The cold air brushed her skin and painted her cheeks. Brows almost touched. Y/N looked questioningly at Peggy, shook her head, and lips parted.

“Peggy?” Y/N whispered, not believing her eyes, convinced she was about to awake from a dream.

She looked healthy. Not a drop of blood clung to the long white evening dress, looked like a woman on her way to church to walk down the aisle. The hair was laid in curls, dotted with pearls and glass shaped in tears. The bouquet, white and red flowers fell to the ground. A smile, false as a fox’s, sweet as a snake’s voice, spread on her lips.

“You’re well?” Y/N questioned.

“Why shouldn’t I be well? I am glad to see that you are well. I see nothing happened to you while I was away. I told you to wait for me at home. I could never have forgiven myself if something bad had happened to you.” Peggy spoke coldly, stoically, emotionlessly.

“Where’s Thomas? He’s out looking for you. I was worried about you.” Y/N uttered.

Spreading her arms, Y/N wanted to enclose Peggy in a tight hug, but fingers clawed deep into the thin material covering her, forcing her to stagger backwards.

“Alfie, can you please let go of me?’ Y/N demanded.

Y/N turned and stubbornly demanded to be let free, but Alfie shook his head.

“Why do you have to make everything more complicated? Get in there and don’t do anything stupid or you’ll all regret it. Are we clear?”, “I wouldn’t do that.” Alfie interjected. He removed his hand from the pistol and rose his hands into the air after he pulled Y/N closer to his chest.

“Peggy?” Y/N breathed, hoped the person bore a mask, but it was Peggy.

Colour drained from her features. Cold metal pressed deeper into her skin. Bloodshot eyes forced Alfie to step back and told him not to dare to waste a single thought about doing something he might regret. Questions nor curses crossed Y/N´s lips pressed into a fine line. A lonely tear cascaded down her left cheek and left a red burning mark on her skin. Y/N questioned her life, every decision she had made, every word and complain she had said to Peggy in hope she would aid her. Synchronically, Ada and Polly arose, aimed, but no shots pierced the air. Peggy chased Alfie away to stand by the wall and he listened and placed the weapon on the ground as the women as Peggy stood tall behind the crumbling shield.

“Why?” Y/N inquired, her heart bursting through skin and bone.

Peggy laughed and combed through Y/N´s locks with her long light-coloured nails.

“I should be in your place. It would have been so easy. But those idiots let you get away and then you were at my door and I just had to let you in. I called these fools. I knew they would be at the bar, and informed them that you were with me, that they should walk in and take care of you. I then set off here, wanting to inform all of you that something might have happened to Y/N. I would have taken your place, but this man had to interfere with my plan.” Peggy joked.

Her bloodshot eyes slid from one person to another and pointing her finger at the tall man settling down on the armchair by the crackling fire.

“How would you have done it? The Shelby wouldn’t have to believe you. Nobody would have.” Alfie questioned, with his arms crossed in front of his body.

“Nobody? Suddenly everybody was searching for Y/N. When I returned home, she was gone. I am a good actress, I had classes when I was young and played in the theatre, always the evil and wicked,” the woman huffed.

She chuckled.

“Thomas would have believed me. I would have played the good friend, helping him through this rough path. I just wanted to play the worried friend. I would have helped to find Y/N and then after a good month the case would have gone cold. The postman would have brought a letter from overseas and the problem would have been solved. Thomas would have found a good friend in me and later a wife,” she sneered.

“But they trashed your house.” Y/N breathed, eliciting a malicious laugh from the mad woman.

“I was a bit angry and had to let my anger run free. My plan was perfect.” she huffed, stroking Y/N’s skin with the weapon.

“You wanted to kill me?” Y/N breathed.

“No one cared about you, you told me everything, your former husband barely cared about you, you slept alone, spent your days alone, were air for everyone, I didn’t expect anyone to care about you.” Peggy laughed.

Y/N gulped, nodded, and breathed a soft prayer, prayed for the safety of all of them a few steps away from her.

“A confident woman. Why would I marry you?” a deep voice sneered.

Smiling, Peggy turned around, fixed her hair and let go of Y/N, but she was rooted into the ground, turning into a statue overgrown by moss.

“All these months you’ve been using me.” Y/N

The veil fell, and the wind carried away the dense mist. Y/N balled her hands into fists, nails bore deep into the soft flesh, but no sound escaped her lips. She faced Peggy, unfearful of the weapon in her right hand.

“You never told me to give Thomas a chance, to at least try to get along with him. You never said anything nice about him. When he gave me flowers or chocolate, you told me he’d cheated on me and feared I would find out.” Y/N whispered, her voice raising with every fallen word.

She remembered the forgotten, the lonely nights, the long calls, the endless hours spend in the small room and crying her heart out to the wrong person, hoping Peggy would help her like only a friend could.

“We spoke on the phone when Thomas didn’t come back that evening and instead of telling me that he must be working but you swore on your parents’ lives that you saw him in the arms of a woman.” Y/N cried out.

Y/N faced her friend, unfaced and untroubled by the loaded gun.

“I suppose that was a lie, too. Probably everything you told me was a lie,” Y/N whispered.

She remembered the nights she was pouring out her heart and the answers that were as false as the snake’s words. She raised her eyes and looked up at Thomas. The man swallowed, saw the questions in his wife’s eyes and smiled.

“I was never unfaithful, Y/N. I was a terrible husband, but I was always faithful to you,” Thomas assured her.

“I believe you,” Y/N whispered, but Thomas had heard the answer.

Y/N advanced, oblivious to the woman in the wedding garment, wanting to go towards her husband, but Peggy made it impossible for her to do so, getting in the way.

“Enough of this sweet talk.” Peggy chuckled.

Metal dazzled the eyes. She grabbed Y/N by the collar, scratched her skin, pressed her tightly against him. And the men and women, apart from Thomas, recoiled with their hands up. Thomas stashed his hands in his trouser pockets and nodded, guessing what she would demand.

“You let me out and nothing will happen to her.” Peggy requested.

The Shelby nodded, exchanged brief glances with his brothers.

“Good, go, you know the way. You hand Y/N over to me at the door. I leave my gun here and you put yours away. Do we understand each other?” Thomas spoke.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands here, Thomas, but I’ll take your offer. But I want them out of here. I want them all out of here in the kitchen.” Peggy interjected.

Thomas gestured to his siblings to leave, nodding, indicating that they should be on their way, that they shouldn’t worry, but his eyes betrayed him. Slowly, they rose from the sofa and did as Thomas ordered them again to leave. Heels clicked against the hardwood. Hush voices exchanged words, and the door slammed shut.

“Can we go?” Thomas probed.

Thomas walked ahead, showed the way, paused at the open door, pushed it wide open and motioned the woman to leave. His hands clenched into fists. He wanted to free Y/N from the woman’s clutches, heard the soft whimpering as Peggy grabbed her former friend. Teeth gritted. Peggy stopped and turned with Y/N.

“Here you go.” she shoved Y/N in his direction.

Y/N staggered forward, threatening to fall like a soldier, but arms wrapped tightly around her body, pressing her tightly to his chest. Thomas breathed loving words into her ear, pressed his dried lips on her skin and pressed featherlight kisses on her cheek. He murmured a prayer and begged for her forgiveness. Sweat danced down his face. He pressed another fleeting kiss on her temple. Thomas put his hands over her ears, deafening her to the screams and bullets piercing the air and suddenly, after all this time filled with screams and prayers, silence reigned over the land.

TagList:

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 2 months

Text

Monster

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: Astarion being a sad boy, angsty af, good ending, he really do be going through it

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You stirred at the sound of glass shattering not far from your tent. You got up, grabbing a dagger before leaving your tent to investigate. You heard pieces of glass clink together the closer you edge towards the center of camp. You head to your lovers tent first to ensure his safety. “Astarion?” you whispered.

You heard glass moving and sniffles before you made your way in. “Get out…” he mumbled.

You dropped your dagger, gathering the large pieces of glass. Astarion had a few small cuts on his legs and his right knuckles were bleeding.

“I said get out!” he growled.

You moved the glass away from him before crawling to his side. He refused to look up at you . You held his cheek gently, tilting his head up. Finally his eyes met yours. They held tears but the emotion in them was anger. You took his hand quickly, healing him before asking, “My love, what’s the matter?”

“I am a monster.” he said with a strain in his voice.

Your eyes widened slightly. You looked between him and the shattered mirror sat across from him. “I don’t see any monsters here. Are you sure?”

Astarion scoffed, “Don’t mock me.” he tugged his hand out of your hold.

You shifted to sit in front of him, “I would never. Why do you think you are a monster?” you asked.

“Look at me!” He yelled, “I’m an abomination! Cazador took everything from me and made me something else… something evil.”

“Do you know what I see?” you asked him in a whisper.

His eyes searched yours, waiting for your answer.

“I see the most beautiful, divine creature I have ever had the privilege to behold.” You scooted onto his lap, straddling him. “These delicate white curls, these plush lips, the sharpest ruby eyes…” you went on, tracing his features in a low voice.

Astarion shuddered at your touch. Feeling you trace his face before moving over his sensitive ears, he suppressed a moan.

You tugged gently at the strings on the front of his shirt. You nipped his earlobe before suckling down his neck, leaving little licks and bites in your path. “This sweet, ivory skin that is so decadent… I can never get my fill.” you mumbled out as you traveled down his chest.

You tugged his shirt off him, making eye contact to ensure this was alright. He nodded ever so slightly, his eyes hazy with lust. You kissed over his broad chest, savoring the salty tinge of sweat that was building up. He felt feverish at your soft touches, a trembling mess as you teased him. “These scars…” you say as you gently trace a few of his scars that curve around the side of his waist. “You carry them with honor, you do not let them define or limit you…” you kissed them softly before starting to unfasten his pants.

You tore your shirt open, listening to the buttons scatter as you exposed your chest to him. You shimmied the top off before leaning forward. Astarion latched onto your nipple in his love drunk trance. He suckled at you fervently while rolling your opposite nipple between his fingers. You held the back of his head while you threw your head back. He kissed over your chest lazily. “You always know what to do to me…” you kissed his cheeks.

You guided yourself onto his thigh, adding just the right pressure to make you shudder from the stimulation. He held your hips but his grip faltered when you grabbed his cock. You smoothed your thumb over his tip, spreading his sticky precum. “This cock that pleases me in every way possible.” you whispered as you slowly started to grind against him as you started tugging him off.

Astarion gripped your hips as he helped guide you as you rode his thigh. Adding just a tad more pressure that made you dizzy. “These hands, they hold me tight and keep me safe.”

You moved off his thigh, sinking down on him completely. Both of you moaned deeply, Astarion’s voice coming out as a growl. “Fuck.” he repeated over and over as he felt you around him.

“This man that loves me completely… how could he possibly be a monster.” you say as you find your rhythm.

“I… I…” Astarion tried to fight back, tried to find a negative within himself. But he couldn’t. The pleasure mixed with the praise was driving him mad.

You bounced on him, ignoring the fire in your knees. You were close and from what you could feel, so was he. You stilled around him, panting heavily as your climax hit you. You bit into his shoulder to avoid crying out and waking the others.

Astarion hissed at the contact but didn’t pull away. Watching your face contort in pleasure was enough to send him. He mouthed over your chest sloppily until he came back down.

“You are not a monster. You are Astarion Ancunin of Baldur’s Gate. You are a devilishly handsome elf rogue. But most importantly, you are mine as I am yours. I love you.” you said before hugging him tightly.

He held you back, your sweat slicked bodies clinging to one another. “I love you… thank you, for everything…” he placed kisses to the inside of your neck before you let out a giggle, pulling away swiftly as he had tickled you. He nipped at you playfully before stealing several more kisses.

“Now - lay down and relax. We need to sleep if we are to enter the House of Hope tomorrow.” you nestled back against him, snuggling into his side.

“Think the devil has anything good to steal?” he asked with a yawn before he cuddled himself into you, kissing the top of your head.

“Of course! What kind of devil would he be if he didn’t?” you muttered kissing his chest before finally letting sleep overtake you once more that night.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello all! Hope you enjoy! I work an overnight this week so I will def have one more fic out this week and possibly another this weekend if the mood takes me. I hope you are all doing well <3 Thanks for everything, talk soon! XOXOXOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!!!!

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monsterfuckerconfessions · 5 months

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I have one fantasy that I will always fall back on if I have a hard time… enjoying myself. Picture this.

You live in a village tucked far away in the mountains. Your home is surrounded by a dense forest filled with dangerous and ravenous beasts, phantoms used to fill children’s nightmares and offer caution to rebellion. There are very few defenses in place against this threat, but one manages to be the most efficient. Whenever someone comes of age, they must leave an offering for the woodland monsters in order to secure their safety for another year. And it must be valuable.

So you wait, watching as time moves up until your 21st year when you are considered an adult. And you are terrified. You barely manage to make ends meet with work produced by your hands and the generosity of other townsfolk. But you can’t rely on them for this. It has to be your offering. But what can you give when you have nothing?

With no more time to spare, you come to a disheartening conclusion. The most valuable thing you have to offer is yourself. So you take the gamble. After all, the worst outcome is death and without protection, it would happen anyway. You spend the day making yourself presentable, dressing in something to highlight your tasty features and dowsing yourself in some sweet fragrances. Of course you don’t know what forest dwelling beings like, but you do your best.

Finally, the hour is upon you. Not wanting people to look into you too closely, you bundle up and bunch up a blanket to act as your “gift” and make your way out of down and into the darkness of the woods.

You jump at every chirp and crackle that echoes around you. You know your imagination is rather active, but you could swear there are a host of eyes tracking you as you follow the dirt path towards where the “alter” lies. You see the trees part in an unusual circular clearing with the massive stump of an ancient tree at the center. You can feel your legs shaking beneath you as you approach. Unfurling the blanket, you lay it down across the smooth wood as your (potential) last bed. With another breath, you unclasp the cloak and let it fall to the ground before crawling onto the platform and settle on your back.

You don’t know how long you lie there, staring at then canopy of leaves framing the starlit sky. It’s anxiety inducing to imagine what will happen to you and how stupid this whole plan is. But it’s better than locking yourself away in fear and shame. Might as well look at your death head on. Despite the nerves in your veins, you manage to close your eyes and drift to sleep.

Somewhere in your slumbering consciousness, your imagination steers your dreams. You see tall shadows emerging from the tree line to approach you. They examine you curiously, sniffing and prodding you with long taloned fingers. Slowly their curiosity gives way to boldness while they nuzzle against your skin. Tongues and hands covered in fur and rough scales caress every inch of you, marveling at your body.

You jolt as you feel something wet and firm press between your legs. The shock pulls you out of your sleep and you look around to see multiple creatures surrounding the stump. Muzzled mouths lick your fingers and an unidentified face nuzzles against your sex, devouring you with hungry fervor. You gasp, leaning back into strong arms that cradle you through the pleasure.

The night continues and one after another, new hands and appendages exploring you in ways no man ever can. They are at least merciful, allowing you to breathe in between intense orgasms for a few minutes before the next round begins.

When the sun finally rises, your body has been wrung dry and you are left a trembling mess atop the stump. A few of the friendly beings remain behind, assisting in your recovery before slinking back into the woods.

More than happy and satisfied yourself, you tidy yourself up and walk back to the village, waving to the eyes watching you. You know what your gift will be next year.

#monsterfucker confessions

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necromelli · 4 months

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checkmate [chapter one]

tw: none that I can think of? this is more setup for the rest of the story than anything else. if you think I should add something let me know <3

wc: 1.5k [semi-proofread]

a/n: one more chapter of set up before we get to see reader/finnick interacting on a more personal level.

[ prologue | next part ]

a fellow victor offers you advice, but you're weary to take it, especially after he steals your spotlight.

President Snow’s parties were a step above Capitol parties. More thought out, more intricate, more securely protected. You knew the moment you stepped foot onto the estate you were being watched. Audibly and visually. To ensure your loyalty — which you were ashamed to admit was dwindling — was as pristine as the other district two winners.

The entire thing left a sour taste in your mouth, akin to a poisoned lemon pastry; sweet, tart, and bloody. You hadn't escaped the taste of blood since the arena. You had come to rely on it as a constant, a daily occurring problem in the whirlwind of problems you had no control over. Enobaria had long abandoned you in search of a fellow victor, leaving you alone.

Watching the Capitolites had the potential to be amusing, if not for their murmurs of the most recent games. Of the bloodthirsty hound who was just so pretty. The pointed looks only added to your charm, the threats to hurt someone if you were touched. They liked it. It was nothing short of a game to all the nepo babies surrounding you. But, then, you, too, were no better.

The only reason you won the games was because of the training you received from an early age. In all sorts of weapons, how to survive on nothing. Rigorous training that ensured and earned you the title of victor.

“Hello, darling.” The hand on your shoulder made you flip the glass of champagne in your hand, the bottom of the glass against the stranger's chin. His only response was a low chuckle, a smirk twitching his lips. “You are an absolutely stunning, murderous little creature, aren't you?”

Your eyes flickered across his features. Perfectly styled blonde hair, that even with the buildup of product looked soft to the touch. Sea green eyes that were as bright as his smile, twinkling in the ambient lights of the party. Tanned skin with dark freckles that accentuated his features. You recognized him after a few moments. Finnick Odair — you studied his games at the academy. He looked older now, more mature than the boy who won at fourteen. He’d be eighteen, now, if you remembered correctly.

You swallowed thickly and removed the champagne glass from under his chin. You sat it on the tray of a passing avox. Shrugging, you respond. “Mmm… What is it they all call you?”

You hold your hand to silence whatever arrogant answer he was conjuring. “Capitol Darling, correct? The golden boy?”

A grin tugs at Finnick's lips, but he bites it back for a similar shrug. “Finnick Odair, actually. But, the flattery is nice.” You feel him step closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Have you heard what they call you?”

You started to frown until a passing Capitol citizen stopped to talk to Finnick. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy bubble in your chest. This was your party, and the blonde haired boy was stealing your spotlight. You frowned, then put on a far too pretty smile as you took the soft hand of the citizen.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You asked sweetly, causing Finnick next to you to snort.

The capitolite’s face brightened upon seeing you, and she nodded quickly. She enveloped your hands between your’s, leaning in close as if you were best friends sharing a secret. “Now that I've seen you, absolutely. You did amazing. I thought district two lacked this year in their volunteers, but you proved to be nothing short of excellence.”

The fingers of the woman’s left hand trailed up your arm — icy hot against your bare skin, burning — and to your cheek. She cupped your cheek and then squeezed the corner of your cheek. “And such a pretty face. That boy from twelve just looked dirty. Too skinny. Weird round eyes—”

“That's enough.” You sneered, pushing the woman’s hand off your cheek. A part of you wished that you’d have let Finnick have her attention.

You could excuse her praises, but you couldn't excuse the fact she bad mouthed Jeb Sirpa. He did nothing wrong — he took care of his district partner. He took care of the young tributes, the girl from six and seven. He should've won instead of you. You firmly believed that.

“Stop! Stop talking so bad about them!” You shoved the woman on the shoulders, pushing her back. A frustrated groan rose from your throat when Finnick reached out to catch the woman. You stared at him, hands shaking mid-air. “They were kids! They didn't- They-”

Finnick was pulling the woman back, quick to try and comfort her. She was shocked, sure, spooked, but the capitol woman’s eyes dazzled with amusement.

She was looking at you like a starved animal.

You felt embarrassment flood your chest — red and hot and ugly. Finnick seemed more concerned about some Capitol vulture than a fellow district, a fellow victor. Someone who went through similar things. Your vision went blurry as you watched Finnick Odair and the woman. You pushed through the crowd blind. Your hands bent at the elbow and poked out, keeping people from touching you. You didn't care if you hit anyone, nothing mattered except the exit to the gardens.

You hit the door so hard that you knew your shoulder would be bruised from hitting the door open. The cold air caused goosebumps to rise on your arms, but that didn't stop you. You didn't stop until you were panting, near the rushing sound of the fountain.

You collapsed into the grass, letting your knees hit the soft greenery. The cold was grounding, as was the dirt beneath your knees.

Your outburst was stupid — at least in your opinion. You shouldn't care about those tributes you killed. They didn't make it. They weren't good enough. You won. Fair and square.

But their faces haunted you. Dark red stained the back of your eyelids. You didn't know their names, but you killed them. Them, who were kids. You, who was an eighteen year old killer. You who, despite knowing you shouldn't be, was still loyal to President Snow.

“Interacting gets easier if you pretend it's a game.” You turned your head behind you, taking in the sight of Finnick. You didn't hear him come up, silent on his feet despite the heeled boots. “Who are you?”

Finnick left the question open, but you didn't answer. You turned your back to the fountain, taking in his appearance once more. Finnick looked more relaxed now that he was away from the Capitolites. His shoulders slumped slightly, inwards as his hands rested in his pockets.

“Y/N: Capitol Pawn or Y/N: Capitol Queen?”

Your arms slid across your chest, tips of your fingers wrapping around your bicep. You tried to figure out the difference in his words, thinking about the game you watched Enobaria and Brutus play on the train.

The smallest piece on the board, a whole row of soldier pieces fighting loyally for the royal pieces. They had no say, no right to an opinion. They did what they were told, no questions asked.

But, the queen was the most powerful piece on the board — only being outranked by the king due to his positional power. Most deadly chess piece who appeared loyal. But, really, the king needed the queen to win. When all else fails, the queen saves the day.

The Capitol needed its victors. For entertainment, for keeping the districts submissive, extra large knights, rooks, bishops, pawns for the Capitol to extort. It was your choice to choose what you wanted to be: unwavering in your loyalty or self preserving?

“Funny.” You mused, looking away from Finnick. Your eyes stared into the fountain, watching the crystal clear water filter through the top. “What are you?”

Finnick was quiet for a long while, thinking best how to answer. He stepped closer to you, closer to the fountain. His words seemed to mix with the loud rush of the fountain. “I only play the part of a pawn.”

You hummed softly, soaking in his answer. When you said nothing, Finnick continued. “The Capitol isn't what everyone thinks — especially those of us from the more spoiled districts. We all think winning comes with glory and power. It doesn't.”

Your head tilted to the left slightly, eyes falling onto Finnick's face. He didn't look like a cheerful flirt anymore. You couldn't quite place a finger on the feeling, but, whatever it was, you didn't like it. It reminded you of the indecisiveness plaguing you, of the way you felt guilty for secretly hating the Capitol. It made you sick.

“Glory and gore, Queenie, be careful who you trust.”

Finnick locked eyes with you. His sea green eyes looked sympathetic — you couldn't see an ounce of pity. That shocked you. Even the older victors looked down at you with pity. Gloss did. Brutus did.

“If it gets too much to handle by yourself, come find me.” You scoffed in response, looking away. He wanted you to trust him? over the people who’ve kept you alive for years? “Otherwise, the queen falls and the king wins. Nobody wants that.”

Finnick let the words hang for another minute, watching the fountain. Then, without another word, he started back towards the mansion, leaving you outside in the autumn night all by yourself.

[to be added / taken off just lmk <3]

#the hunger games #catching fire #finnick odair #mockingjay #thg fanfiction #thg finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you #fanfic #thg series #thg

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justfangirlstuffs · 7 months

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A Saltwater Room

Part 3 featuring @scarredlove's Sea Slug AU boys. :D

Part 1 here, Part 2 here.

Wordcount: 2055

As you slept you had strange dreams. Dreams of being underwater yet somehow able to breathe. Dreams of hands gently cradling you and bright eyes peering at you through the darkness, dreams of being wrapped up in warmth and softness. And any time you felt scared, soft gentle words of comfort were murmured into your ears, allowing you to sink further and further into restful slumber.

Sunlight pressed against your eyelids and you groaned. You didn't want to wake up. You just wanted to stay wrapped up in the warmth of your bed sheets... except... how was the sunlight getting in? Didn't you close the curtains? Something shifted against you, and you very quickly realized you were not alone. And you were not in bed, and these were not your bed sheets.

Blinking your eyes into focus, you found yourself wrapped up in curtains and folds of reds and blues and golds. You were laying atop the yellow sea creature, their arms wrapped around your middle, while the blue one was loosely draped over your legs in a way that didn't hurt but kept you effectively pinned you in place. No wonder you were so warm; now that you were awake you could feel the soft hum of their bodies. They appeared to be fast asleep.

Taking in your surroundings you found yourself in a different sea cave. Much larger than the one you'd fallen asleep in. You were currently resting on a sandy shore that lead to the opening of the cave that had two wide arches looking out into endless ocean. Small waves gently lapped over the sand, trying their best to reach you but lacking the strength or motivation to get very far. Big mood, honestly.

Overhead, a large, jagged hole served as a skylight, letting the sunshine in but still keeping most of the cave in shade. A few large rocks sat in the center, probably perfect spots for sunbathing during certain times of the day. As your eyes roamed, you noticed a part of the cave seemed to go deeper, but you couldn't see too far in before it melded into blackness. Still, you couldn't help but be nervous that something might emerge from those shadows.

It then dawned on you that you were far too calm for this situation. You could feel your panic, your fears and anxiety, but it was like there was a layer of... something separating you from it, not allowing it to reach up and pulled you under. Or... maybe you were just so overstimulated from yesterday you just didn't have the energy to have another attack. Regardless, it was time to address the two sea creatures in the room with you.

“Um... hello?” You lightly nudged against them, trying to get them to wake up so you could have some freedom of movement.

They both stirred, the blue one arching their back as they stretched. Seeing you awake, they slithered off of you. The yellow one waited until you were fully sitting up in your bed of sand before also putting some respectable distance. Huh... okay... so far this was a lot... tamer than your first encounter with either of them.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” the yellow one asked, rubbing their hands fretfully. “When Moon brought you here, I was worried he might've been too late. You were so cold, I thought-”

“Moon?” you repeated, rubbing your head. Your eyes widened. “Wait... as in... Sun and Moon?”

Moon immediately perked up. “You remember us?”

Glancing between the pair of them, it suddenly clicked. No wonder they seemed so familiar and yet so unrecognizable. Because the last time you'd seen them, they were tiny slugs living in your aquarium, small enough to fit in your hand.

“But... you were...” You pointed to your hand. “And now you're...” You gestured vaguely at them.

“Mm, I suppose we do look a bit different,” Sun mused. “Though, to be fair, in such a small space we weren't able to really... stretch our legs, so to speak.”

A bit different. Understatement of the century if there ever was one. Still... you couldn't believe that they were actually here. You thought you'd lost them forever years ago. Your family had been getting ready to move, and you were taking one last stroll with them, in the little aquatic carrying case you had made so you could take them with you whenever you had to leave the house. If they wanted to, of course.

However, your jerk of a cousin stole them from you and you'd chased him, trying to get them back. Then the idiot dropped them into the river that opened out into the ocean. You tried so hard to save them. You cut your hands and knees open on rocks trying to get to them in time, but the ocean stole them away, along with your blood and the tears you cried. You remember being so distraught that you had sulked for weeks afterwards. You'd lost your three best friends, yet no one seemed to understand how much they meant to you. When your parents offer to get you new slugs, you had refused, because how could you possibly replace them?

“Have you been here this whole time?” you asked them.

“Mm, here and there,” Sun answered vaguely. He reached forward and gave you a small boop on the noise. “Looking for you.”

“Waiting for you,” Moon added, his hands worrying the front ruffles of his robes. “Sorry for scaring you. Just... missed you.”

“I might have been a little... hasty as well,” Sun admitted, fingers toying with one of his rays. “I was just so happy. I apologize.”

They... had been looking for you all this time? All these years? What had they been getting up to? Had they gotten lonely? It must have been so scary for them, for their world to explode in such an abrupt and unexpected manner. But at least it seemed like they'd been able to adapt in a way that helped them to survive. Plus, the fact that they were apologizing for their behavior, however well-intentioned it was, really meant a lot.

“So, wait, if you two are here, then where is...” The sentence died in your throat as the pair's eyes widened and a large shadow suddenly loomed over you.

Turning around, your heart leapt up into your throat, clogging up any words you might have said. If these really were your Sun and Moon, then there was no doubt who this could be. Eclipse was so very tall. Taller than the other two. His robes were a deep midnight black laced with gold, adorned with bright yellow polka dots that gleamed with light. Like Sun, he had a halo of appendages around his face that were reminiscent of rays, only more elaborate. Golden yellow eyes shined down at you, his expression unreadable.

Wordlessly he knelt down, one of his large hands reaching out to gently stroke your hair. “Are you all right?” His voice was a gentle rumble, like distant thunder.

“Y-yeah,” you mumbled. “I think so.”

“Good,” he said. Then both of his hands were gripping your face, not harshly, but enough to get your attention as his face suddenly twisted in anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” Suddenly the thunder was not so distant anymore. “Wandering the beach after dark! Are you looking to get eaten?”

The unexpected admonishment cut you deeply and tears sprang up in your eyes. “Why are you yelling at me?” you squeaked.

Eclipse let you go looking panicked, clearly not having expected you to outright cry in the face of his ire.

“Nice going, idiot!” Moon chided, smacking Eclipse on the back of the head.

“I agree,” Sun muttered looking soured as well.

“Shut up! It's both of your faults they nearly died to begin with!” Then, to your amazement, Eclipse scruffed them both with each hand and threw them hand over hand into the water where they splashed, spraying droplets everywhere.

Moon make a few splashes and gargling sounds before playing dead, whilst Sun went full on theatrical mode. “Oh no! Whatever will I do? I need a beautiful strong pearl to save me from this dreadful predicament.” He glanced at you and winked.

A small snort left you, chased by a few giggles. You wiped the stray tears away with the back of your hand. Eclipse lightly touched your shoulder and you winced on reflex. His hand withdrew, his expression sullen but penitent.

“Sorry about that, Angelfish. I got carried away,” he muttered. “When those two brought you here, you were frozen, and your breathing was so slow.”

Shoot... had you really been that in danger of exposure? You gave a small shiver. “I don't do well with yelling,” you told him frankly. “But... it's nice that you cared, Eclipse.”

The use of his name got a reaction, as several of the colorful appendages around his face twitched as a smile spread over his visage. By this point, Sun and Moon were over their theatrics and had come back ashore to rejoin you. Though you noticed they were continuing to keep their distance, even though their expressions and the way they seemed to almost unconsciously gravitate towards you spoke volumes as to how much restraint they were exercising.

“Clip likes to act big and scary, but really he's the biggest softy of all of us,” Sun remarked with a wide grin.

“He's softer than a jellyfish,” Moon teased, poking at Eclipse's side. The latter gave a playful swipe at Moon who ducked away with a soft cackle.

The sight brought a grin to your face, warming your insides. The familiar way they acted, the way they teased and ribbed each other... they really were family. Even though Eclipse tried to act bothered, you were almost certain there was a fondness behind the irritation he was sporting. Gaud... seeing them all here stirred up so many memories, and your head felt so abuzz it was overwhelming. What was once so far off and distance now felt fresh and vivid as though just yesterday you'd been in your bedroom chatting happily away with them.

Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with the strongest urge to hug them, to hold them in a way you couldn't before. And yet... so much time had passed between then and now. You were different, and they were very different. Was it really okay for you to just... pick up where you last left off? Especially when you didn't know them anymore, not like this anyway. But... it would be so nice to have friends again. To have someone in your corner.

“So, what-” you began, however you were cut off as your stomach gave a monstrous growl that seemed to echo through the cave. The three of them stared at you and you were so embarrassed you wanted to hide your face in your hands.

“You're hungry,” Eclipse remarked. Not a question.

“I guess I shouldn't have skipped dinner,” you mumbled, rubbing your stomach.

“You WHAT?” he demanded. However, when you winced at his tone he clenched his fist and released a long heavy sigh. “Let's get you home.”

“Wait, but...” You glanced between the three of them. You still had so many questions.

“Go home, eat and rest,” Eclipse instructed firmly. He extended a hand, and you shyly took it. It was so large compared to your own, but it was soft, warm, and kind. He easily pulled you up onto your feet. “We can talk more later, once you've had time to...” He trailed off, as though searching for the right words.

“Process?” you supplied.

“Yes, that.” He pulled you closer, until you were only a breath apart from him. Your cheeks flushed at the proximity. “All you have to do is call for us, and we'll come find you.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Warmth bloomed from the spot as your heart thrummed in response. Then suddenly you started to feel very sleepy. You slumped against him, and his arms cradling you was the last sensation you felt before you passed out.

#fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #fnaf eclipse #sun x y/n #sun x reader #moon x y/n #moon x reader #eclipse x y/n #eclipse x reader #sea slug au #justfangirlwritings

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creepy-friday · 1 year

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Can we get some cute and sweet father Slenderman and daughter reader headcanons? Like slendy finally steps up and starts acting like a father, I want them to have a sweet father/daughter bond 😫🫶 (can you tell that this screams daddy issues in 40 languages LMAO)

Of course!I'm sorry if I made this too angsty,I couldn't help myself

Slenderman x Daughter!Reader

The static stopped.For one month since you were bought to this hellhole,you had to fight the constant screaming of white sound-all until today,when it suddenly..stopped.

You had seen "it" before,the tall creature in all of their eerie presence,their non existential features being engraved inside your memory since the first day.

You couldn't help but feel a sacred bond between the two of you,a warm blood-like one,the familiar feeling only adding to your doubts.

This day one of the masked men came to your room and mentioned your visit to the last floor of the mansion.

He made the effort to look almost presentable in a not frightening way.It was like how a new father would act with his newborn daughter-like a florist holds the most delicate and fragile flower.

"Are you feeling allright?" you finally heard his voice and a cold shiver ran down your spine.The faceless creature spoke to you inside your own head.

You simply nodded and you could hear his whisper-wind-like voice once more inside your head."Good."

You wanted to scream at him,to lash out and ask the tall creature why you were snatched from your own little world there,but you didn't dare to.Instead you just furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"Something wrong?" he tapped his long fingers on the table of his office,his own gesture seeming to irritate himself.

"No." you simply responded.A few moments of pure silence passed before he let you go back to that damned room.The truth is-after your leave he stayed with his palm on his forehead for a minute.

The creature's non existential heart seemed to shallow him whole.

He tried to make himself known to you more and more,by giving you small gifts on your bedside every morning with a neat folded letter attached to them.

The gifts could be plushies,empty agendas,fruits you enjoyed and simple photos of the beautiful world

One day you could hear the faint static again and simply demanded "stop watching me." and he responded with a simple "allright." and the sounds stopped once more.

You were allowed to see certain parts of the forest,and he often watched from a distance,very rarely engaging into a closer look as to not scare you off.

If you allow him to get closer I can see the tall eldritch teasing you with innocent pranks ranging from putting your belongings far too high from your liking to letting you wander around his office while he's admiring you or simply reading

"He's no good for you" he broke the silence while you stared out of his office window,admiring the three proxies who were heading to a mission.

"How do you know who I'm looking at?Are you fucking in my head again??"

"I guessed."

"Stop looking in my head,please!"

"I'm not invading your privacy.I never had."

he's lying so hard bro

One day,he had to go solve private business outside the mansion,and like always-he left a letter on your bedside.

There was no doubt that the calligraphic letter belonged to the one you could call a part of your family.

"I always have treasured you." it wrote,the deepest black on the purest white paper-it was all he could write-and slowly but surely he will tell you too.For now,he just wants to know that he loves you from a safe distance equivalent to his monstrous looks

#creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #y/n #headcanons #slenderman's daughter #slenderverse #slenderman #slenderman x reader

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sashi-ya · 7 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 9: BANKAI Kuchiki Byakuya 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: anon ➡ sashi my love! can we please have day nine with Byakuya with an afab reader, she/her pron? you are an amazing writer, we love u! 💗💗 tw: mdni. a first part of an old idea I had. If you all wish me to keep going with the story I totally will! I based this fic in an old poem I wrote called 𝑨 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏. shower sex. sex with a "stranger". maybe confusing and romantic too. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It has been the same since you can remember; running away from those things. Monsters with white masks and a ravenous desire of swallowing you in just one bite.

You can also see ghosts. And sometimes, even some strange beings dressed in black uniforms with swords here and there.

However, your childhood hasn’t been easy. Being scolded for lying, and sometimes taken to the doctors because of your “wild imagination”

So much you’ve been scolded and bullied that you simply stopped alerting others about that “invisible” menace and kept it secret for yourself… you got used to, after all, to those monsters and how to avoid them… Soon, however, you learnt you can’t always win by yourself…

You feel it. You know it must be closer to you. At least one or two. Maybe a bigger one? Maybe a lot of them?

You grab your bag and start walking faster. With all your senses alerted, you think of the better way to get to a certain place in Karakura town; the Tsubakidai park. Somehow, when you get to a little old shrine, hidden behind tall grass you feel safe. It is always the same, you feel like you are lacking air and then pass out. By the time you wake up, there isn’t any monster following you no more and you are safe to go back home where somehow you sleep soundly feeling a warm mantle of protection falling upon you.

You can feel their stomps getting louder; you can’t act calm now; you should run to the park, as fast as you can. There are no taxis available, it’s cold, it’s dark, the night has already engulfed the lives of the citizens of Karakura.

Crossing the river, just a little bit more (Name)… you will be safe is you run through the bridge. But there is no time to do so, so your legs should get wet. The river isn’t deep, it only gets up to your ankles.

You keep running, taking a brief look behind you. Is not one. Is not two. There are at least, ten of those monsters. As if someone had put a bait to call them all to this damned town.

The slippery river bottom and your shoes aren’t compatible, and your knees hit the ground the moment you slip. You pray it should be enough, you are just a few meters away from the little shrine. Whatever keeps you safe will help you… right?

The claw of the biggest of them, with a scary white mask covering mostly of his “face”, seems to be moving in slow motion as you finally close your eyes waiting for your death.

“Scatter, Senbonzakura”

You open your eyes to discover the most beautiful pink rain of shining petals. However, those alluring sakura flowers cut the monster in pieces, with a violence so unproper of a blooming sapling. How could something so pretty be so deadly?

In between the blushing glow, facing the creatures, stands a man of long hair and white haori covering his black uniform. His hands hold what seems to be the hilt of a sword with no edge, and his impassible attitude before those scary monsters is at least admirable.

You realize that soon, your lungs are begging for more oxygen as that crushing feeling you always experience reaches you again. It’s both torturing, but also calming. This means, you will be safe...

But you were far from it, just yet.

The man turns around with a velocity your eyes can barely follow. His arm suddenly passes around your waist, pulling you so closer to him it even feels disrespectful.

When you finally catch up with the events happening, your eyes ease the blurriness to focus on the finest features you ever came across with. His sharp mandible, his deep blue eyes, the delicacy of his traits equals the fearless sight during battle.

“I am not sure how you are able to see me, but you must stay exactly this way. Or you will die” he tells you, pulling you even closer to his body to the point of almost nuzzling on his chest. With a big jump back, he gets out from the river and now both lay on the shoreline right under the bridge.

You blink repeatedly, you are probably dreaming. This can’t be happening, there is no way such a prince has come to rescue you.

His free hand have no rest, as uncountable numbers of monsters keep appearing. That’s why, you can see in his eyes he has determined something.

“BANKAI… SENBONZAKURA KAGEYOSHI”

The sword in his hand is now sliding down, as if he had let it fall. But instead of hitting the ground, the edge pierces the floor with no effort. Around you, enormous blades stand still, forming some kind of structure built of thousands of them.

Explosively, they turn to million of pieces. And now you understand that what looked like uncountable cherry blossoms were the pieces of those swords.

“I have a safe zone around me, and only me. Should you move away, and the blades will cut you with absolutely no mercy” he informs you, calm but dominantly. Perhaps there is too much of arrogance in his voice, but he is definitely saving your life now, so you must obey.

“I am not moving away from you a single inch, sir” “Very well. This hollows keep coming and I’m not exactly sure why. It won’t take much, though”

You hug him. You need to be sure you won’t move -or maybe it is because he is too irresistible not to do so-. And when you do, he gasps. It is as if both of your skins reacted in different ways than none of you were expecting to.

His gloved, refined hand, moves up and down in swift delicate motions guiding the petals and cutting the “hollows” that violently try to trespass the protective curtain of flowers around you two.

One of them seem to be strong enough to take the cuts, coming as close as possible to you two. Your protector, quickly covers you completely, as his eyes seem to have telekinetic control of the petals. He creates a wave so strong that a blinding pink light explodes, destroying everything once and for all.

When everything is over, the roaring sounds disappear. There is only the music of the river bubbling next to you and the panting of both of you.

You feel your shoulder wet, thinking it must have been due to your fall in the river. But a sweet look confirms it’s blood.

“Sir! You are hurt! Let me help you!” you desperately chime, when you realize his arm has an opened bleeding wound.

“How are you? Are you hurt?” he asks, calmly, brushing your question off. He is strong, surely. But you can’t leave him this way.

You realize none of you have stopped hugging the other. It feels comfortable, as if you have always belonged to his arms.

“I am… ok, sir… Thank you for saving me” you murmur, wondering if he is going to tell you his name some time.

He closes his eyes, and nods. He sighs in relief. “I’m glad you are fine. Where do you live?” he asks, letting you go for the first time since he arrived.

“I can walk by my own, sir. I don’t mean to bother you… however, being hurt… uhm there is a pharmacy nearby I could buy some stuff to cu-“

“I am not a human, miss. Don’t worry about me” he cuts you short, stating something that’s pretty obvious by now.

You nod and start walking back home, you are cold, trembling. You are completely wet, and the night breeze detrimentally makes it worse.

The finest white fabric covers your shoulders. Golden details hanging on each side and your eyes meeting his.

“Sir I… this is…” you try to give him his haori back, but he is not taking it.

“It’s just a cheap garment. Cover yourself”

You silently walk towards your home, with the scent of his clothing engulfing you in a delightful experience. It is soft and manly, and for sure expensive. You wonder what kind of being he might be, even if for you he could be considered an angel, a knight.

“Mh, you live by yourself right?” he asks, all of a sudden a few meters away from your home. How does he know? Was it him who protected you all the time when you ran to the tori?

“Yes… how- never mind. My name is (Name). What’s your name, Sir?” you ask, you at least wish to know who saved you.

“Kuchiki Byakuya. Captain of the sixth squa…” he stops himself from further talking. He realised you are just a human and shouldn’t know about it.

You smile. Of course, he is some kind of captain or important person. You, however, don’t mind. He is coming from another dimension, that’s for sure. No man looks as perfect as him in this world.

“Thank you so much for saving my life, Kuchiki Byakuya. Would you like to come in? If it’s not too much to ask, I would like to cure your wound”

Byakuya seems reluctant to say yes. Yet, he nods and follows you inside your little house in complete silence.

You immediately show him where to sit on your living room as you quickly go grab some gauze and some antiseptic.

Soon enough you find him looking at your television. He seems to be inspecting the appliance with great interest.

“Do you like me to turn it on for you, Mr. Kuchiki?” “Honestly, I have no idea what this does so I’d much rather prefer not to”

You giggle sweetly. Of course televisions aren’t a thing in his dimension or wherever he comes from. He is dressed as if he lived during Edo period, you highly doubt there is such thing as satellite television…

“So, let me see your wound please” you murmur, a little shy, with the curing supplies on your hands.

Byakuya nods and uncovers his shoulder, letting his black shihakusho fall down. Half his chest and lean arm flash beautiful pale skin with a scratch on it.

It’s no time to lust, but to act. He needs attention now.

With utmost care, you pour some drops of antiseptic solution over his shoulder. The liquid runs in form of big drops down his arm and chest, and he flinches before the subtle burning sensation.

“I’m sorry, Byakuya. I know it’s a little bit uncomfortable, but I’ll be quick I promise” you inform him, as diligently clean the scratch and the dried blood all around.

“This doesn’t hurt. I don’t need you curing me, I can do it. I am staying because I am still wondering why so many hollows were following you… and why you are able to see me… you are loaded with heavy spiritual pressure” he spits. He is for sure not a very friendly pal.

He keeps insisting with the fact you are able to see him, and soon you realize why.

“Sir, are you a ghost?! I’ve seen ghosts all of my life, but you- I can touch you and talk to you and… the scent of your sk-“ you stop. That’s embarrassing, but also true. You were never able to touch one of the ghosts you saw before.

Byakuya grabs your hand. You widen your eyes.

“I know you do. But I don’t know what changed for you to see me now and not before” he confesses, pulling you even closer to him. He is somehow inspecting something in you, you can’t quite see.

So, he is indeed the man saving you from the monsters then… what’s his motivation? Why he protects you?

“I am honestly glad to be able to see you at least Mr. Kuchiki. I owe you my life, not once but uncountable times. How should I repay you?” you ask, coming even more close to him.

Byakuya keeps pulling softly from your arm, his soft fingers tracing paths on the inside of it. Your legs hit his knees, it’s difficult to maintain yourself standing.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time, (Name). You don’t need to repay me. Please be safe until we found out what’s the deal with your high spiritual pressure… but I need you not to tell anyone else about this. Even if other people dressed as me come to talk to you, simply ignore them. Promise me you will”

You swallow. How many invisible threats have you been put under throughout your life?

“So, are you staying the night… Byakuya?” you ask, sincerely and shamefully. You don’t want him to go, and now you begin to think that every time he saved you in silence he probably stayed by your side all night…

Byakuya nods. He knows you are not stupid; he knows you know. He understands that tonight, more than any night, he must stay right by your side.

No words were said. He followed you to your bedroom. Because both knew that this haven’t been the first time…

“I bet you sat there all night, Byakuya…” you laugh, pointing at a chair you found warmth every now and then without nobody sitting there. “Or maybe in my closet…?” you joke.

“No, the closet is not my style. My sister’s, however…” he mumbles, with a soft smile showing in the commissure of his mouth.

A smile; this man knows how to smile?! Oh, how beautiful was that.

You giggle sweetly, as you scrutinize some comfortable clothes to offer him. He is still wet, he shouldn’t be.

“Here, this should fit. It was going to be a gift for my brother. But… anyway. You can take a shower, I will give you towels… you- can use my hairbrush too” you tell him, while lending him a pair of grey jogging pants and a white shirt.

His hands graze yours, and a simple touch makes you shiver; weak.

You indicate him to follow you to your bathroom. “Here. I’m sure you know how this works” you point towards the shower tab.

“You should take a bath first. You are absolutely wet. I just have my feet a little cold” Byakuya insists, almost whispering behind you. There isn’t much space in your tiny bathroom.

“Then we should bathe together” you joke, taking your hand to your mouth and laughing happily while opening the tab for him.

However, Byakuya has some trouble catching which sayings are simply jokes and which ones are serious propositions…

His delicate hands land on your waist. A jolt of electricity runs through your body, ending in a gasp coming out of your mouth.

He slowly turns you around to face him, committing a sin that nobody should learn about.

“I’d like to do that” he murmurs, as your back hits the acrylic shower screen and Byakuya approaches your lips with his.

You look up at him. He might have been watching you for a long time… but this is the first time your eyes see his face. Even if you tried to deny his presence every time you felt it around you.

Almost instinctively your hand reaches for his cheek, and somehow all of your doubts suddenly fade away. Whether this is real or not, safe or not you simply don’t know.

His lips crash with yours in a soft but needy peck. Byakuya’s body sticks to yours. Soon you two begin kissing desperately, lustfully, sexually.

It seems to you that the kiss turned liberating for him. Who knows how many nights he spent wanting to join his mouth with yours…

It doesn’t take much for his hands to finally undress you. Your dampened clothes falling to the floor, tangling a little around your ankles. His clothes, also falling to the floor. Those baggy clothes can’t hide the perfect anatomy before your eyes.

“You are beautiful” Byakuya mumbles, as your body presents in full display once and for all.

“I’m sure you already knew how I looked…” you murmur, thinking he could be capable of peaking through your shower during those nights where he cared for you in secret.

“I would never, ever, disrespect you. I never once tried to peak through” he confesses, perhaps even feeling “stupid” for not doing it.

On tippy toes, you plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. “I know. For some reason, I feel like I’ve known you since the very moment I was born”

Byakuya’s eyes get instantly coated with a glossy mantle of tears. Even if he tries to hide it, he is not really able to do so. And instead, he lifts you up from your thighs.

Kissing you more and more deeply, with the steam of the shower already replacing the oxygen in your lungs, he gets inside the shower with you.

The hot water rains on both of you. His raven hair, falls gracefully on his shoulders and wide back. It tangles in between your fingers that rest on the nape of his neck.

“I wish to make love to you” he moans, with lingering lips.

You sigh in response; you can’t even talk. He is a stranger and still feels like your soul is bounded to his… why?

You hug his waist with your legs, feeling his sex graze yours from how hard he is getting. He is holding back, just not to penetrate you right away… even if that’s exactly what you two are desperate to do.

“Please… do it now” you beg, kissing the scratch he got on his arm earlier.

Byakuya moves your hair out of your face a places a soft kiss on your forehead with his eyes closed.

“Yes… after so long…” he grunts, allowing his hips to finally impale you. While you didn’t have to wait, he did. But when he begins to move in and out, it feels as if you were pleading for this for an eternity.

The back of your head hits against the wet tiles of your shower. Byakuya’s sharp teeth bite your neck, your skins slap against the other while there is no space in between your bellies.

The more he rams into you, the more you carve your heels on the small of his back and pull from his beautiful black hair.

Byakuya grunts. You moan, loudly. As if it might be the last time your bodies will join, you keep connected until the hot water runs out. Orgasming, one, two, three times. And who knows how many more times.

Dripping, full of his release, he carries you in arms to your bed. “I can’t get enough of you…” he whispers, as he deposits you over the mattress.

“Then don’t go. Stay and love me more. Protect me, with those sharp petals…”

“This is gonna be the death of me, (Name)…”

(to be continued)

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon 💖

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wildemaven · 10 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter Six

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4511

Warnings: 18+ Blog; mentions of food and drinks, unwanted touching, self doubt, pining, two dumb dumbs navigating fEeLiNgS, reader has a nickname but has zero descriptive features, fluff, like always please let me know if there’s anything I missed.

A/N: This chapter!! I think it’s just been a week for me, dealing with minimal sleep and a teething babe— I was near giving up on it. But, it’s done! Wrote out a good portion of it and then hated it so I rewrote it and then ending up going in a completely different direction— but I like where it ended up going. Thanks again for all the love and kind words on this series!! Only 4 more chapters to go!! Adding: Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for beta’ing this labor of love and all her support and help as I write this!

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An endless loop of vivid thoughts frequent your weary mind— starting early in the morning and well into the evening.

Dieter, his stupid handsome face and the way he has you falling for him, your brain in a constant flustered state.

You keep mulling over the possibilities of allowing yourself to be vulnerable, open to the idea of something growing between you and Dieter.

Each alternative has its advantages and risks.

Leaning into your feelings and granting Dieter access to the thing you’ve spent years guarding, trusting that he will stand alongside you as you fully open your heart to a chance at a future together.

But what if he doesn’t want the same things as you?? You contemplate if settling for just his friendship is enough, never pursuing the growing connection between you, accepting him in your life but always at an arm's length.

Dieter’s impending departure has you a mess, your growing feelings for him only making it worse.

“Are you still there sweetheart?”

“Yeah— Sorry Mom, I’m still here.” You assured her, finishing up the rest of your makeup as you get yourself ready for the Capri Hotel’s big event.

“You sound so far away. What’s bothering you?”

“Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin Mom. None of it’s really all that bad, just a lot at once I guess.”

“Well, I’m here to listen if you need to get it off your chest.”

Moments like these, you wished she lived closer, missing your kitchen conversations at the end of a long day. No matter how depleted she was after work, she made dinner with a smile and sat for as long as you needed her to, her shoulders always carrying the weight of your heart when needed.

“Just trying to keep it together most days. School has been busy, end of year things have me drained. Then there’s the whole gallery thing, it has me stressed I won’t be ready for the showing. I’ve finally managed to get a chunk of my pieces painted and prepped— I have like 5 more to do. And I’m sad it’s closing, I only have a few classes left there.” You pause for a moment, you hadn’t intended on an emotional dump when you called your Mom, just wanted to check in and say hello. “It’s all good things though, so I don’t even know why it feels overwhelming, I guess I feel like I’m going to let someone down somewhere along the way.”

“Hmm. Well, I know how hard you are on yourself, but I also know how hard you work— especially when it involves all the things you love. You’re going to get through it all! I believe in you.”

Her voice feels like a warm embrace as it drifts through your phone, the stress already feeling like it has lifted a bit with her reassurance.

“So, how are things with your guy? Any new things on that front?”

“Well, he’s not my guy.” Chuckling at her abruptness. “I feel like we’re in a good place now— he feels like a close friend that I’ve known my whole life. And the more time we spend together, the more I—“

“The more you what?”

“I don’t even know, Mom. Like there’s these things he does, I don’t know if he’s just being nice or what, but he does these little things that make me so happy. He brings me coffee in the mornings when he drops his niece off at school, leaves little notes for me on the cups— I save them Mom, I have a stack of these coffee cups in my kitchen.”

You hear a muffled hum, her signal that she’s already preparing her response to what you have to share, but allowing you to continue.

“He came to one of my classes, and you know what he did? He painted a portrait of me— who does that?! And now, we text each other all the time and I can’t stop smiling when his name pops up on my phone, because I can’t stop thinking of him. Then he gave me this cute nickname that makes my insides turn to goo any time he says it and I— I…”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah— I do.”

The air is dry, heat waves dancing across the scorching cement, an array of popular songs blaring from the DJ booth situated on the green lawn adjacent to the hotel’s pool deck.

The re-grand opening celebration of The Capri in full effect.

The hotel had been drawing in plenty of guests after the renovation, rooms booked out regularly, a quintessential tourist destination for the small town. Its mid-century design of wood, natural tones and pops of color paired with the sleek modern aesthetic throughout the hotel’s property was beginning to be recognized by many publications, all looking to showcase the hotel’s unique style in upcoming pieces.

The hotel’s name, big white block letter signage, sits atop the covered entryway. A parked yellow Chevy Deluxe adds to the ambiance of the building’s timeless look.

Giant palm trees and tropical-esque plants in terracotta pots decorate the grounds of the hotel. Small gardens with intimate seating had been strategically placed for optimal usage. A large lawn space in the back was draped in string lighting and had the perfect view of daily sunsets. The pool itself was a perfect backdrop for a day of relaxing, vintage woven lawn chairs and oversized umbrellas lined each side of the large pool surrounded by lush greenery.

Dieter was able to snag a chair early on, perks of knowing the hotel owner, the umbrella shade blocking enough of the sun to make the extremely warm weather bearable.

He’s trying his best to enjoy himself, knowing he’s doing Diem a favor keeping an eye on Wren while she’s running around doing her hotel-party hostess duties, but the growing crowd of guests and invitees feel more overwhelming, reminding him of the elaborate Hollywood parties he’s attended.

Only a few people have stopped to ask for autographs or pictures, slightly surprised there’s still a fan base that has an interest in him these days.

“How come they don’t want me to sign their papers? I know how to write my name too!” Wren, her voice tinged with a pouty tone, says from where she’s lounging on her chair next to him.

“I don’t know, Birdie. Next time, you can sign your name too, seems only fair.”

“Okay. I can draw a heart for them too.”

Wren, satisfied with the compromise, goes back to sipping on her iced lemonade and watching one of her shows on her iPad, zero interest in what's going on around her.

“How’s she doing?” Diem asks as she sits on the edge of the Wren’s chair, placing another lemonade on the small accent table between the two of them.

“She’s good, wanted to take a break from swimming for a bit. You, umm— hear from Poppy yet?”

“Why? You finally going to tell her you’ve got it bad for her??”

Grateful his sunglasses are dark enough to block the eye roll intended for Diem, he glances over to see Wren still absorbed into her show then back to Diem and whispering a low -fuck off- accompanied with a playful middle finger.

“She texted me a bit ago, said she was running late, but would be here soon— Oh! Speak of the devil, look who just arrived. I’m going to go say hi and I’ll send her over so you can tell her how much you’ve missed her.” Diem’s menacing voice earns her another middle finger from Dieter, leaving him to greet you properly.

Dieter catches sight of you weaving through the pack of bodies meandering around the pool, taking in how your face lights up the minute you see Diem welcoming you with a hug, both of you embracing each other as if you hadn'tnd just hung out days prior.

He’s seen you in your casual clothes outside of school before. Usually a pair of favorite jeans and t-shirt, a sundress sprinkled in on warmer days, but something about seeing you in a bathing suit and shorts has his brain short-circuiting almost instantly.

Tilting his head forward, his pointer finger pulling his sunglasses slowly down the bridge of his nose. He’s completely taken aback, mesmerized by you, noting every little detail— your captivating features that make him absolutely weak, every delicate curve so perfectly placed, each flaw you try so hard to hide merely a perfect addition to your allurement.

The second you and Diem turn in his direction, he’s shaken out of his trance, trying to focus on anything to make his blatant staring seem less obvious.

“I see an open chair next to Dieter, do you think he’ll mind if I hang out with them?” You point to the open space next Dieter, who is helping Wren navigate something on her iPad.

Unfortunately, as you say it, you notice a beautiful woman sitting in the lounger you were inquiring about. You try your best to keep the tinge of jealousy concealed, the last thing you want is to draw any sort of attention to your feelings for Dieter at this time.

“Never mind, I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to set my stuff.” There’s a subtle hint of sadness in your eyes, avoiding watching the women openly flirt with him.

“Babe, you good?” Diem sensing the shift in your demeanor instantly. Peering back at Dieter to see the interaction he’s having with the woman, who now has her hand on his arm, caressing it as she tilts her head and openly ogles him— her fake laugh is a dead give away that she only sees Dieter for his Star Status and nothing more.

“Yeah— y-yeah, I’m good.” Forcing a somewhat convincing smile.

“Hey, I’ve got to go check on catering, make sure everything is running on time and then I’m going to grab Wren for her nap— the last thing I need is a 6 year old meltdown. Don’t worry about her, she doesn’t really seem like his type anyways. We’ll catch up in a bit.” Giving you another hug, letting it linger for a minute, then Diem takes off in the direction of the catering truck.

You’re left standing there, feeling exposed and alone among a sea of strangers. Nervously scanning anywhere but in the direction of where Dieter and the woman are clearly flirting. You contemplate what an appropriate amount of time to spend here would be, before slipping out unnoticed.

It reminds of you showing up to a middle school dance, dressed in the new fancy dress you picked out for the special occasion in hopes of seeing the cute boy, who’s name you spent most of the school year scribbling in your notebooks. Only to walk into the dimly lit and poorly decorated gymnasium to see he is with the head cheerleader and they’re both making heart eyes at each in the middle of the dance floor.

Part of you wants to shrink into the shadows of the crowd, ruminate over the signals you read completely wrong this whole time. Dieter was just being nice, friendly— at no fault of his. You blame yourself for thinking he might have some interest in you, reading into the little details and thinking that you were even his type— clearly far from it.

An up tempo song blasts through the speakers, amping the tone of the party up and pulling you out of your brief moment of sulking.

Friends. Just friends. Dieter and you are friends and that has to be enough for you.

You head in the direction of the open bar, hoping an ice cold beverage will help unburden your angsty thoughts.

“We should hang out sometime!” Dieter cringes at the advances this random woman keeps making towards him.

If this wasn’t his sisters hotel, he’d probably wouldn’t feel bad in being harsh and telling this woman to fuck right off. But he doesn’t want to cause a scene, not knowing how she would react to his rejection.

“Umm, I don’t know— I’ve got a lot going on right now.” Let her down easy.

“Oh come on! You’re not doing anything, you just got out of rehab— and they’ve got you trapped in this boring town too. I’m sure we could find something fun to do together. I know a few parties are happening in WeHo coming up, I can make a few calls— get some treats to liven things up.” Her hand still fondling his arm.

He winces at her crass comment, a reminder of why he chose to escape the acrimonious world of Hollywood.

He doesn’t have a single regret about being here in Ojai either, he enjoys its simplicity and is starting to feel like he could see himself here long term.

“Look, I’m sure you're nice and all— but I’m not interested.”

“Okay, well we can do something else then. How about we go back to my room, I’m staying here.” Wiggling her hotel key between her fingers.

She’s clearly not grasping at the obvious hint Dieter is giving her.

“No, I’m not interested in your room or you.” He says politely, grabbing her hand and removing it from his arm.

“What do you mean?!”

“He has a girlfriend, lady!” Wren piped up in Dieter’s defense.

“Wait! You have a kid? And a girlfriend?”

“No— to both things.”

“God, rehab made you so fucking boring.” She scoffed, offended by his sobriety and his lack of interest in her.

“Okay, so what we’re not going to do is that, my niece is right here. You can go now.”

She didn’t hesitate at his request, grabbing her things and walking away— pretending to be unbothered by the rejection.

“Sorry about that Birdie. Some people are just—“

“Weird!”

“Yeah, weird. Hey, Birdie?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you think Poppy is— she’s not my girlfriend, we’re just friends. So, let’s maybe not call her that anymore okay?” Although, he likes the way the two words mix together in the same sentence.

He worries it’s going to slip in your presence, he knows wren means no harm by it, but he would hate for you to feel uncomfortable if you ever were to hear her say it.

“Mhmm.” Her non-committal response earns her a laugh, fully focused on her show like nothing ever happened.

Dieter takes in the lively atmosphere around him. Laughter emanating from the party guests gathered in small groups around the pool, a carefree crowd dancing throughout the lawn area, smiles plastered on everyone’s faces— he couldn’t be more proud of Diem and all she has accomplished.

Readjusting the collar of his colorful half buttoned shirt, Dieter settles back into the chair, letting the sun kiss every bit of his exposed skin.

“How are things going over here?” Diem quietly asked, pulling Dieter from his ruminative thoughts.

Diem scoots Wren’s listless legs over to allow room for her to sit down, leaning over she grabs the device from her tiny sleepy hands, Wren’s little head nodding as she struggles to keep her drowsy eyes open.

“No complaints, looks like you had a good turnout. I’m really proud of you Diem, not just all of this,” His hand pointing around to her accomplishments on display in the form of a successfully running hotel and her well executed re-grand opening festivities. “But with Wren too. I’m glad that I got this chance to be with you both.”

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me—“ Her voice wobbly and soft as she beams at his acknowledgment of her dedication to her work and Wren. “Thank you. And I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without your help.”

Dieter nods, mirroring her heartfelt gratitude.

“Have you seen Poppy? I saw you both talking earlier.” He hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate, wanting to know your whereabouts, if you’re okay and why you’re not here— with him.

“She didn’t make it over?” His brows draw together, shaking his head slightly. Her nose wrinkled at the realization of why you hadn’t come over.

“What?”

“She saw you and your— little friend earlier, I don’t know for sure, but she seemed somewhat saddened by it. I’m surprised she didn’t come over though.”

“Shit! I gotta go. You good with her.” He stands abruptly, an unnerving feeling creeping up from his chest, hoping you didn’t mistake what you saw for anything but an awkward fan interaction.

“Yeah, go. I’m going to go put her down in my office.” Scooping up Wren’s sleeping frame. “Dieter?”

He turns back to her calling his name, hands flexing at his side, a nervous tick of his, as he waits for what Diem has to add.

“You should tell her.”

He’s not sure why it’s so difficult to find someone in a somewhat enclosed area. His eyes scanning every ecstatic face as he sidesteps through conversations anchored in effervescent exuberance, a stark contrast from his growing collection of spiraling thoughts.

If he could just find you, explain the situation to you in its entirety.

Explain how he truly feels.

How you'rer his first thought when he wakes in the morning, the giddy anticipation of seeing how beholden you are as he hands you the coffee he picks up from the bakery Wren and him stop at before school, how he takes in the way you tilt your head just enough to read the ridiculous notes he scribbles on the sides of each cup, “Have a Brewtiful Day!” “Better latte than never.”—each one extracting the most intoxicating laugh.

How he looks forward to seeing your face light up at his stupid jokes, never once admitting how horrible you think they are.

How you’re an added reason for him to want to be sober, never wanting to be on the receiving end of your disappointment in him. He wants that rewarding experience of seeing how proud you are of him.

And how he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms— morning, noon and night, keeping you as close as he possibly can, terrified that you’ll disappear the moment he lets you go.

His world seems to come to a standstill, everything he had been working up the courage to tell you, drained from his mind instantly.

Utterly shattered by the sight of you.

That smile of yours, paired with a full body laugh, directed at the man standing next to you. Your hand holding the top of his oversized bulging bicep as his large hand gently cups your elbow, leaning into each other as you both exchange words.

A reality he hadn’t even considered in the time he spent looking for you— you being happy with someone who isn’t him.

Crushed.

Confused.

Broken.

It’s a dizzying sensation. A chance lost— or so he thinks.

Rubbing his hands against his shorts, removing the evidence of his anxious response to seeing you wrapped up in what looked like an intimate conversation, his head still in a fogged state of shock.

He manages to will his body to move from where he’s been standing. His jaw ticks anxiously, surrounded by bodies dancing around his blurry peripherals. Releasing a deep sigh, he looks back to you once more, looking for what he hopes is closure.

Instead, he catches the moment the man you’d been friendly with, gesturing a goodbye as he retreats from the space he’d been sharing with you.

Dieter watches the way your expression morphs from bright and bubbly to soft and muted the minute you're alone, leaning against the cocktail table with your face tucked into your shoulder, closing yourself off from everything and everyone.

“Mind if I join you?” Dieter calmly approaches you, still holding on to the single thread of hope that he didn’t lose his chance.

“Hey! Of course you can.” Your face instantly lights up at the sight of him, patting the open spot on the table, genuinely welcoming him to be with you.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“What do you mean?” A line appears between your brows, shifting your body to fully face him with one arm still draped over the table top, your fingers casually drawing shapes onto the silky thin table cloth.

“The guy, I saw you talking to him— looks like he works out, a lot— the man is very hot.” Words fumbling out of his mouth, as he points back in the direction he thinks he saw the muscular guy head in. “I just mean, I don’t want to interrupt if there’s something potentially happening there.”

Your lips pressed together in an attempt to fight off the urge to laugh.

“What?”

“There was nothing happening there, like at all. That was Dan, he’s a good friend and he comes to classes at the gallery. I’d offer to introduce you two, since you think he’s so hot, but he just got back from his honeymoon— with his equally hot husband. We were just catching up.”

Dieter winces at your explanation of who the man was, feeling like an idiot for so foolishly assuming you were falling for the guy.

“Besides, he’s not really my type.” You state boldly with your head cocked to the side, one eye squinting to block the sun rays as you take stock of the way the sunlight tangles in his hair.

“Where’s your friend from earlier? She was really pretty. You both really seem to be hitting it off earlier.” Keeping your tone neutral, looking down at where your fingers are now pulling at a loose thread on the tablecloth, preparing yourself for how his response is definitely going to wreck you.

His hand settles next to yours, his fingers nervously tapping onto the hard surface.

“Actually, I have no clue who she was— didn’t even ask for her name, didn’t want to know it either. Sure, she was pretty and maybe in different circumstances I might have been interested in her… She was pissed though when I turned her down, I actually had to tell her to leave.”

“Really— Why?” Your attention drawn back up to where he’s still studying you, his brown eyes locked with yours, now etched in a glistening golden light from the setting sun.

He lifted his shoulders in a gentle shrug, taking a deep breath as he looked at you, “She just isn’t who I’m interested in.”

When you think back to when you were growing up, constantly daydreaming about what it would feel like the moment you realized you were in love, and if it would feel as good to have that same feeling reciprocated back to you, by someone who wholeheartedly felt the same way.

You decide that this is that moment, and it’s even better than you imagined it would be.

Dieter’s eyes drift over to the table, his hand slowly inching closer to yours, the light brush of his fingers over the top of your hand is electric, your breath catching as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours.

His thumb, tender as it slowly smooths over the ridges of your hand, glancing back to you to make sure that there’s no sign of discomfort in your face— you squeeze your fingers, a silent ‘I’m more than okay with this’.

A breeze picks up, his hair tousling around as it blows through where you both are standing. You lift your free hand to swipe the hanging curls out of his face, your fingers taking liberty to rake through his downy hair, each curl bouncing back into place.

“What’s your type then?” It’s menacing the way his husky voice cuts through the steady silence, encouraging you to share with him.

“Hmm…Tall, funny, sweet, driven, pretty— like really fucking pretty. Also has to answer to Uncle Dude in the presence of a sweet little 6 year old. Know of anyone who might fit that description?”

He nods along as you list off each quality, his eyes lighting up at mentioning good-looking.

“That’s quite the list.” He quips, your breathy laugh prompting a lopsided grin from him. “So— pretty, huh?”

“Yeah— really fucking pretty.” Your words are drawn out in a sincere manner, noting the way his eyes crinkle a little at the compliment.

Dieter’s hand nestles at the base of your neck, drawing your body closer to him. His touch potent and satisfying, as he commits to memory the way your skin feels beneath his fingertips, gliding them down your bare spine leaving goosebumps in their wake— his gaze never leaving yours.

“You’re interested in someone?” The answer seems obvious, but you want to hear it from him.

“Poppy, you gotta know it’s you—“ He utters earnestly with both of his hands now cupping your cheeks, watching the way your lips part as he leans in closer. “I lo— like you so fucking much Poppy, you’re the only one I’m interested in.”

The way he started to say that he loves you, it feels like you might float away, anchoring your hands on his wrists. Everything tingles in your stomach, he’s so close, his breath fanning over your lips. Your lashes flutter as he slowly angles your face, his nose brushing against yours.

It’s a whirlwind of energy drifting between both of you, building intensity with each passing second, the finality of the moment bound to be explosive.

Tiny hairs of his mustache grazing the underside of your nose. The top of his lip begins to settle over yours, it’s pillowy weight slowly meeting your—

*RING RING RING*

“Fuck!” The word vibrates across your upper lip at the vexing sound of Dieter’s phone ringing, offensively interrupting the flow of your almost kiss and urging him to answer it.

“I swear, if that’s Diem—“ A picture of Diem and Wren lights up the phone screen, his thumb swiping across to accept the call, he stands to his full height as he presses the device to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?… Okay… Yeah…Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute then… Love you too, bye.” Dieter ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

The entire phone conversation, his focus remains on you. His free hand never leaves the side of your face, thumb stoking across the warmed apple of your cheek—Your hand still holding on to him, the cadence of his heart-rate is rapid against your palm.

“Diem?”

“Yeah, she said Wren wanted to go home. She has to stay for another hour or two, make sure things close out here before she can head home.” He explains, zero annoyance detected in his face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m perfect.” You say softly, an airy smile spreading across your face. “What do we do now?”

Dieter takes in your question, so many answers floating around in his mind, but none of them feel sufficient enough at this moment, wanting to properly share everything he’s been feeling without being rushed or interrupted.

He leans back into your space, his lips pressing a chaste kiss between your brows before resting his forehead against yours.

“We’ll figure it out as we go.”

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x poppy #wildemaven writes

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tatorthots · 1 year

Text

— a jealous encounter

Featured: wanderer x afab!reader x Childe (implied)

cw: suggestive themes, jealousy, cursing, (slight) hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, (slight) possessiveness

Synopsis: Jealousy is nothing more than a pathetic human emotion. It’s truly almost humorous how insecure and weak-minded mortals are, getting riled up simply because the object of their affection gets a little attention. Of course, the former sixth harbinger is far above such trivial emotions (he’s not)

a/n: scara being jealous, soft, and sulky because I said so and also I used sm names for scara because I didn’t know what name to use and I panicked btw have you guys been playing the windtrace event?? I literally can’t stop playing it help

art credit: @Liann1009 on twt

The swaying of forest leaves reflected off the clear spring waters of the still river you had come to rest by. The sun was still high above the fluffy clouds and its warmth gently kissed the skin of every living being and creature under it. It was truly a beautiful day in the outskirts of Sumeru City. And along with the chirping of birds, the sound of your laughter resonated through the forest breeze like a soft melody — absolutely enchanting, he thought, if it wasn’t caused by that damned insolent insect.

Archons, could the man not get a break? Is this finally the ‘divine punishment’ mortals so often preach about? Glaring sharp eyes quietly trailed the tall, orange-headed idiot as he fumbled around you like some love-sick child, far too comfortable with you for the latter's liking. Feelings of disdain soon turned to seething anger. Despite all my efforts, slender fingers dug into the grass underneath him, he still manages to ruin what little I have. Had he not gone through grueling enough changes? Did sacrificing absolutely everything to start anew mean so little? He gave up his past titles, erased his previous relationships, and severed every last thread that connected him to his past self — aside from you — and yet, here stood the bane of his existence during his time as a Fatui Harbinger. And to make things worse, you’re actually friends with him.

Childe, he sneered.

“Ajax, how could you get so excited over anemo slimes?” You giggled as your eyes fluttered into crescents and you bashfully hit the freckled man next to you. You couldn’t help but tease your longtime friend for getting so excited over a few anemo slimes floating around a tree. Though you’d admit, the straight edge determination reflecting from his ocean eyes as he stood straight and strung his bow back to aim made your stomach swirl slightly. You noticed the way his fingertips elegantly let go of the string and effortlessly sliced through the anemo slime mid-air, despite being positioned below and meters away from the distant cliff side tree the anemo slimes were hovering around. It’s amazing, you thought. But what earned him your admiration was the simple fact that he wasn’t trying. Childe didn’t need to. Even when he’s doing something in lighthearted fun, so long as it involves weapons, he’ll breeze through any obstacle or ‘challenge’ with ease. That’s what made Childe, Tartaglia.

However, there was someone who didn’t share that sentiment.

Honestly, Scaramouche doesn’t even know how he ended up in this archon-forsaken situation. The day had begun like any other day, with your limbs intertwined with Scaramouche as he gently stroked your hair and counted the seconds in between as your chest slowly rose and fell — an action he vehemently denies that he does because he longs for your touch; not to mention that it just so happens that the feel of your body against his calms the occasional insecurities and self-deprecating voices whispering in his head. Scaramouche lightly shook his head in flustered contempt when he caught himself softly smiling and gqze slightly softening at the memory of your skin against his, useless thoughts aren’t going to aid me in figuring out how or why I’m stuck here. internally groaning he thought of when you woke up today. you had found him already awake and tidying up the room you had both stayed in the previous night. As you sat up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you watched Scaramouches quick and precise movements as he prepared your traveling satchel. Funny, you thought, he does all this and I never hear a thing. As much of a light sleeper as you might be, no matter how many chores he’s completed before you wake, you never hear a sound stir you from your slumber. Of course, when you finally got out of bed you found yourself presented with a small plate of assorted fresh fruit waiting for you on the kitchen table, a sight you see every morning. However, you’ve long learned better than to outright thank him for breakfast, or any small acts of service. Not because you don’t appreciate his quiet considerations, but because you learned that Scaramouche will act like a total brat if you confront him about his kindness. Insults range from calling you a moron to being labeled delusional, so you’ve figured it’s best to enjoy these little things and thank him in that way. Lastly, Scara thought about the events that happened after breakfast when it was time to set off yet again. Ah, that’s right…, he begrudgingly remembered. it was as soon as you left the inn that you happened to bump into a tall figure. An apology left your lips quickly before you hurriedly scrambled to catch up to Scaramouches' fading figure until a hand cautiously grabbed your wrist.

“Y/n?” The stranger spoke. At the sound of your name, you quickly whipped your head around to see a messy head of orange locks and a familiar lopsided smile being directed at you. “Ajax?” “So it is you—!!” Sculpted arms immediately wrapped around your frame and lifted you into their embrace. “It’s been too long!”, the voice beamed, and your momentary confusion soon turned into joy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and softly giggled. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on a mission in Inazuma?” You questioned as he set you down with his hands still latched onto your hips, “Well I was mostly there for personal affairs, and I just arrived in sumeru a few weeks ago on assignment,” his voice softened as his head slightly tilted to the side, “I’ve been missing you.” Raising your hand to cup his cheek, you brushed your thumb across the freckles adorning the mighty 11ths features, “I’ve missed you too, Ajax.” Then as if a light bulb had just lit up in his head Childe clasped his hand over yours, “Are you free today? Why don’t you go sightseeing with me? My treat!” “Ah, well I’m actually traveli—“ but before you could finish your sentence you felt cold fingertips clasp around your forearm and roughly snatch it away from the gingers hold, “She’s traveling with me,” indigo irises narrowed menacingly on Childe, and the pure aura exuding from the raven-haired man was comparably hostel to the icy and dreadful snowstorms of Snezhnaya. Scaramouche forced himself between you and Childe, standing protectively in front of you as the latter glared down at him with a smile still plastered across his lips, “Comrade. Who’s this?” Childe inquired, “Oh! This is m—“ you tried answering but Scaramouche cut you off once more with an exaggerated scoff, “The question is who are you?” Crossing his arms and holding his head ever so arrogantly he continued, “Tch. Don't you have any common decency? Or are you just too impertinent to practice basic respect?” A short, dry laugh left Childes lips, “I see.” Crossing his arm and raising a hand up to lightly tap his fingertips on his jaw, Childe feigned ignorance, “Y/n never minded my touches,” with a taunting smile and desolate eyes, he chuckled, “in fact, I’m all too familiar with where she prefers to be touched.” And with that Scaramouches patience snapped, “You dare to—“ sensing the oncoming altercation you quickly grabbed a hold of Scaras hand and guided him behind you, “You’re both very important to me,” you began, “and if I matter to either of you then you’d respect those who matter to me,” glancing between the two men you sharpened your tone, “I’d like you both to get along.”

That was the last thing Scaramouche recalled before he found himself third wheeling the rest of the day. With each moment seemingly getting worse and worse. What an infantile reason to get excited about. They’re practically oversized balloons, his attention darted in Childes direction and his usual scowl was now replaced with a daggering glower, Evidently, this damn worthless scum is filled with much more hot air than any damn anemo slime in the sky.

Scaramouche wasn’t ignorant, it was clear to him since that nuisance came around that his former Harbinger ‘comrade’ had deeper feelings for you than he let on. After all, despite his distaste for the man Scara had spent adequate enough time with Childe to learn a few aspects about him; firstly, Childe can be described by humans as having an extroverted, ‘charming’ persona, and he has no trouble making friends wherever he goes, however, he never lets anyone touch him — it’s a subtle habit and not one easily picked up on; a far cry to the current situation in which Scaramouche has had to swat his hand away from you for the fourth time in a minute. Secondly, despite the hours upon hours the idiot could spend rambling about fishing or spar training, he never actually shares any personal information about himself, and yet, he’d gone as far as surrendering his real name to you. Not to mention he had no problem speaking to you about how much his siblings would ‘love’ you, of course, they’d love her, he scoffed, who doesn’t fall for her? Lastly, and most notably, Childe has no glimmer of life in his eyes. To be honest, if Scaramouche had to think, the only other time the 11th showed even a hint of a glint he would say it would be when Childes tearing his enemies limb from limb — an idea Scara is finding more and more appealing. So then, he thought, I guess I’ll just have to stomp on that little light of his. Tapping his foot impatiently on the ground an ominous shadow gloomed over his face as he lost himself in his thoughts, she’s mine. mine. mine. It had been long since Scaramouche had realized his feelings for you, and he had made it very clear to you that he had no intention of sharing you with others. No, Scaramouche no longer wanted just your friendship, he wanted you.

“Shall I go buy some snacks from a food stall nearby before dinner, comrade?” Standing from his spot next to you, Childe towered over you with his body leaning down to loom mere inches from your slightly warmed face, “I did say I’d treat you today..” half-lidded eyes traced your movements as he brought a gloved hand to cascade across your cheekbone, “didn’t I?” His voice was low and his smile smug; Childe knew full well what he was doing in front of Scaramouche, and he basked in it, though it’s not as if these actions were all too new either. “A-ah.. I- um,” stuttering over her words, huh?, Childe mused, how cute. However, the mere sight of this atrocious act almost made Scaramouche use his anemo vision to slice that wretched excuse of a warrior in half. With a soft smile, you leaned into Childes hand, making the man’s eyes widen in slight surprise as a light dust of pink spread over his face, “That’d be great Ajax, thank you.”

Internally groaning, Scaramouche rested his arms on his knees and hid his head behind his arms as his pretty lilac eyes stayed focused on you, there’s her smile again…, his brows faintly knitted together when he felt his chest start to ache, always caused by something else. He couldn’t help but wonder whether you were truly happy wandering through the lands of Teyvat with him.

“Then I’ll make it quick!” With a goofy smile and a wink, Childe went off into the city walls. Leaving you and Scaramouche resting alone with nothing more than the sound of the river flowing and the city chatter lightly busting in the background. Closing his eyes, Scaramouches brows quirked in annoyance, that self-serving imbecile didn’t even bother to pretend he even remembered me. The feeling in his chest was all too familiar to the electro Archons puppet. Clutching where his heart should be he couldn’t understand why this feeling wouldn’t go away. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t learned his lesson despite starting anew. Maybe I was meant to live this way… he thought. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder, Scara whipped his head up to see you sitting right next to him, your body lulled to the side and brushing against him as you tilted your head down to get a better look at his sulking face. For a second he was stunned by the suddenness of your closeness, but then he was held captive by your feathery lashes and beaming smile; a warm smile finally directed at him. How quickly his chest went from hurting to blooming with warmth was almost pathetic. Even if you were the reason why he was drowning in misery, even if his pain had been caused by your ignorance, you were still the reason why he felt joy. It’s always because of you…, without realizing his hand had already reached to gently tuck the loose strands of hair blowing across your face, and just as quickly as he realized he retracted his hand in a huff of frustration and embarrassment.

Humming in acknowledgment, you stared off into the grassy mountains of sumeru, “You’ve been awfully quiet today,” your voice was soft and tranquil, “how uncharacteristic of you, no?” Glancing to the side you smiled when you saw him lightly scoff under his breath as he turned his head away from your direction.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re rambling on about.” He grumbled.

“Shall I elaborate?”

“I’d rather you not.” Piercing irises threateningly glared in your direction.

“You’ve been ill-tempered,” you began, and Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “hmm which isn’t all too out of the ordinary, but you’ve definitely been lashing out at every little thing.” With a knowing glint, you glanced at your longtime companion, “Not to mention your aggression with Ajax.” And at that Scaramouche grimaced at the way you spoke his actual name, “You force yourself between Ajax and I whenever he gets close, you demean every single thing he says, you smack his hand away when he reaches out to me — even if it’s just to hand me something, and you taunt and mock him every chance you get,” pausing for a second you let out a heavy exhale before softening your gaze, unsure of whether what you say next is the right thing. “Kuni… all of that isn’t what worries me,” at that you felt his entire body stiffen, seemingly holding his breath as if every ticking second was more important than the last, “I noticed the nail marks you have on your palms from all the time you’ve spent clenching your fists, and I see the conflict that’s been raging behind your eyes since this journey with the three of us began,” balling your owns fists on the fabric of your clothes you let out your final observation, “As small as the changes are, or as hard as you try to hide it, kunikuzushi, I see you. I’ve memorized every expression, studied every curve and line that forms on your features and what they mean… I know you fear that I’ll abandon you,” you purse your lips at the thought, “So how dare you. How dare you ever think I would abandon my other half.”

The absolute, incredulous stare Scaramouche gave you almost made you choke out a muffled laugh. Catching the anemo holder off guard and speechless was a prize all too rare to witness. Yet, what caught your attention wasn’t that you’ve managed to leave him stunned and tight-lipped but instead the unfamiliar red that spread from his cheeks to his ears. There was a quiet gasp from your lips as you admired how beautifully his pale complexion was set off by the searing color. Instantly, your ears perk up as he speaks.

“I.. you don’t…” he began, but immediately he stopped himself. Then, a moment passed. And then a minute. The tension between you two seemed to pile up in pressure, and you now found yourself holding your breath and feeling your heart start to quicken as you stared at him. Awaiting what was to come next. With a defeated look and an airy sigh, he finally turned his full head toward you. “You really are foolish y/n,” his voice was strained, and his eyes peered into yours with such a soft intensity, “hah, really.. you couldn’t be more incompetent, could you?” Swallowing the lump in your throat, your glistening doe eyes simply gawked at him almost owl-like, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at your dumbfounded face. Then that’s when he smiled. A true, genuine, adoring smile, “Haven’t you realized that I’m in lo-“

“I’m back—!”

Childe’s voice ripped through the tension and practically grated Scaramouches ears while you jumped, startled at the sudden noise. Snapping your head to Childe, you saw him holding a small bag with the label titled Puspa Café. “I hope you don’t mind what I got us!” Reaching his hand into the bag he pulled out a crispy, sweet-smelling Candied Ajilenakh Nut dessert, “When I was walking through the different vendors, I was quite surprised to have found a dish that looked so similar to one of the desserts my motherland of Snezhnaya has!” Childe puffed his chest and extended the sugary sweet to you, “Though I’m confident the one from home tastes much better than this, I’m happy to share something similar with you,” softening his azure gaze as you took the dessert from him he continued with a gentler tone, “but I hope to one day treat you to one back home.” Blinking once, then blinking twice, you quickly glanced over at Scaramouche now positioned with his knee up and resting his arm on his knee to hide his face once more, I wonder what would’ve happened…, you pondered, but you knew better than to prod the conversation given the current situation. I suppose it’d be best to ask again later, turning your attention back to Childe you offered a thankful smile, “I’m sure one day we can visit if Kuni agrees to go.” At that, both men froze for a second. We..?, now it was Scaramouches turn to stare owlishly at the dancing grass brushing against his fingers, and without noticing he felt his entire body relax as he let out a quiet, small sigh of relief. Whereas Childe clenched his jaw in annoyance while still forcing an easy-going facade, I need to get rid of him, “Sounds like a plan comrade!” Was all he could muster through slightly clasped teeth as he sat down next to you. Humming to himself in deep thought, Childe wondered what to do about that asshole little leech that stayed glued to you.

All of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes — well, two were lost in their own thoughts either processing or scheming, whereas you simply sat between the two men enjoying time together as you feast on your sweet treat. "Ah. Comrade, you seem to have a few crumbs," "Hm?" Moving your hand up to brush away the stray pieces, Childe gently stopped you, "Allow me." He softly spoke as he leaned in close and carefully swiped away the crumbs; his hand then cascaded across your plush skin and caressed the curve of your jaw. Gazing into his eyes and cheeky smile, you found yourself at a loss, feeling both embarrassed and shy from the gesture.

Scaramouche, however, was not at all pleased. This little game of Childes has gone on far too long and writhing in self-loathing had been nothing but a waste of time. You were his. You’ll always be his, and there wasn’t a human, harbinger, adeptus, or archon in this damned world that could ever change that. So, with swift movements, he laced an arm around your waist and pulled you on top of his lap and into his possessive embrace. The sudden movement had stunned both you and Childe and you had no time to react as your eyes glanced up at the smug smirk spreading across Scaramouches lips. His eyes were low and scowling intently at Childe, while the Harbingers smiling face quickly fell, replaced by a much colder and sinister glower. “All this time and not once did you offer me one of those burnt little treats,” Scaras voice was low and mocking, and you could feel the icy touch of his slender fingertip tracing down the side of your face to the base of your chin to guide your full attention towards him, “guess that just means I have to take one myself, won’t I?” And in a quick moment, his lips came crashing down on yours. His kiss was rough but cautious, and you could feel the longing and desperation emitting atop his soft lips. At first, your eyes blew wide open in shock, but then, no matter how hard you tried to focus on what was going going on or move your body to react, all you could fixate on was one little detail, his lips taste.. like a Zaytun peach.

Parting his lips from yours, his eyes quickly scanned your face for any hint of disgust, any reaction, anything. You could clearly see the worry pooling in his irises, but before regret could creep up on him your eyes turned into crescent moons, and a pretty pink blush flushed your cheeks as you smiled dotingly at him. He was taken aback. At first, he was shocked, then confused, he even felt a little angry, but mostly he felt love. Turning his attention from you to the glaring daggers and clenched fists Childe had, Scara smiled in triumph and narrowed his eyes in slight. “You’re right, Harbinger,” bringing his thumb up to glide across his lips he licked them, “this treat isn’t bad, hah, not bad at all.”

side note: happy new year everyone!! and happy birthday to my first, and most cherished, Zhongli ᥫ᭡

Reblogs and Interactions Are Appreciated!! ღ

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poetthewriter · 6 months

Note

Hello!! I'm a bit new to your writing but I'd like to request smth! :D

Could you do a Goodtimeswithscar Scar x GN!Cat-Hybrid!Reader? The reader has spots of fur on their body. It tends to poof up everytime Scar would compliment them! One shot or hcs are fine w me :))

-🌑 anon

OMG HEY HEY MOONY (i now will call you moony) IM SORRY THIS DID NOT SHOW UP ON MY PHONE INBOX BUT I IS ON MY COMPUTER THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME I MISSED IT!

𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕= 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒃&𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔🌱🧄🌿

Cozy kitty cat

GoodTimesWithScar x Gn!reader

Scar had always had quite an interest in the feline creatures and with that he even owned a friend of his own, Jellie, of course that along with his love for cats that meant he loved you quite a lot. when he first me you, aside from you already attention catching looks scar found great fascination in you cat like traits and soon this became one of his hobbies, trying to learn about your true self and kitty like antics.

Over time scar noticed even the smallest things about your hybrid side like how in the dark your eyes narrowed and you could always guide him through places at night, how every once and a while especially after sleeping you would stretch your back and arms out as far as you could and open your mouth showing off you pointy teeth, and how you would knead you hands into people after pouncing on top of them then continue to gently push you head into your friends rubbing you checks and hair against them.

This quest to learn more never failed to bore the young man but over time things started to change. yes your cat like features, antics, and habits where quite cute and charming but his focus on you shifted in a new direction.

❀✿❁✾❀✿❁✾❀✿❁✾❃❀✿❁✾❀✿❁✾❃❀✿❁✾❃❀✿❁✾

walking past a multitude of houses scar hummed gently, his steps had a swing in them and he seemed quite buzzy , the day was quite boring so far so Scar thought what better to do then visit his good friend, you. the flower sway beside him and he jumps up to you door, *knock knock knock* Scar pounds his fist on your door and waits for an answer, minutes past and the thought that you arnt home has crossed his mind but he shakes his head. only a few days prier the two of you talked about you weekly plans and you told him you would be home today.

after contemplating for a moment the eccentric man finally makes a decision, the window close to you door is open and it doesn't seem like you would get to angry at him...…

Scars foot balances between the porch and your window seal slipping back and forth he manages to pull him self through the opening. taking of his shoes he walks around your house with a big smile still painted on his face, a silly voice calls out your name but to no Advil there's still no response.

just before Scar goes to give up something catches his attention.

A shirt?

a shirt lays on the ground right in front of the laundry room, Scar picks it up and smiles at it knowing that its yours, trying to be kind Scar opens the laundry room door to put the shirt in there but to his surprise there you are laying on top of a piles of freshly dried clothes.

Scar cant help but laugh at the silly sight before him but try's to muffle his giggles as hard as he can as to not wake you up. as he calms down he cant help but stare, you lay there and somehow just from seeing you he feels calm, and purrs softly emit from you mouth and your ears softly switch.

slowly scar sits beside you on the massive pile of freshly clean clothing, towels and blankets and sinks in to the softness, his closes his eyes understanding why you fell asleep here, the makeshift bed is still super warm from the dryer and extra soft after being newly washed and after just moments he has already drifted asleep right beside you.

❀✿❁✾❀✿❁✾❀✿❁✾❃❀✿❁✾❀✿❁✾❃❀✿❁✾❃❀✿❁✾

your eyes flush open and you take a moment to adjust to the lights around you, looking around now awake a soft sound of breathing catches your ears, looking down beside you their sits scar and you cant help but heat up.

"huh... what time is it" Scar mumbles patting his hands around searching the room. "wait, Y/n! I forgot I came, did I scare you?" he continues speaking with a grin.

"What are you doing here Pretty boy?" you respond to his antics and you cling on to him pushing you ears as well as hair into the crook of his neck. Scar sits there all giddy over the nickname you commonly call him that he doesn't really notice that you turn on some lanterns until you have finished lighting them all.

"i was a little bored~ and what better to do then to visit my favorite catlike friend!" he pipes dragging out some of his word extenuating his smirky dimeter, the patches of you fur poof up as he finishes complementing you and your cheeks rose up as you tuck your face into you hands.

"Awwwww! i love when you fur poofs up like that" scar says reaching his hand you pet the soft patch on your right cheek and scratch the back of your ear, normally some cat hybrid didn't like when people touched them or pet them but you liked it to be honest you quite like when your friends pat you head or pick up on your cat like traits you found it to be quite endearing but with scar everything was different you loved it. Scar was your person always the kindest and most accepting of you he made you feel better then anyone had, the man loved you cat like self but overtime things changed.

"thank you Scar" you respond to his previous comment but little did he know that you weren't just thinking him for the complements he showered you with but for the love he shared with you. you pull scar up of the pile of now cold clothing and drag him to the living room, the couch is pulled out covered in piles of warm blankets and fuzzy pillows and the room is kept warm by the gentle fire.

Adding a few logs of wood in to the fireplace you finally sit down with Scar once again and the two of you huddle into the warmth of the house and each other. huh?.. wait is this normal for friends?......

Scar finally understands yes he loved your cat side but the only reason he loves it as much as he does is because its a part of you, everything you do cat like or not he loves and finds ever so charming, so he could care less hybrid or not he loves you.

three words come out of you mouth as if you had read his mind right as you fall asleep you cant help but say..

"i love you"

#hermitcraft x reader #gtwscar #hermitcraft #hermit x reader #3rd life #mcyt x reader #og mcyt #goodtimeswithscar x reader #goodtimeswithscar #cat reader

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novasdarling · 1 year

Note

Ok this will probably sound like a weird request, but maybe Mahito as some type of dark fey/fairy that likes to deceive and hurt humans, and he ends up capturing a very naive reader? Sorry if it's too much specific, either way I just love how you write him

It doesn't sound weird at all! I sorta dialled it down(I kept rewriting this ask and idky), so I just kinda leaned in more with forest monster being able to handle this one human(reader) and hating others.

Though I will say your request now makes me wanna write for other characters and him as fairy/elves creatures... Hmmm

Forest Creature

TW: Monster. Kidnapping, Drugging(with a plant), Female Reader.

The woods could get dark and dangerous when you ventured too far. Predators, unclear paths, the threats you were cautioned about growing up. The warning words of your parents vanished as you embarked further. It would be fine, it always was. You always tended to make your way back home, no matter how far you went. Coming back with a full basket of berries, roots, and herbs. After the first few times, people would question your ability less and less when they saw you emerge from the woods with a full basket. Many assumed you just had an innate skill for foraging and navigating the woods. It was best to let them think that, rather than revealing the truth. That it wasn't you, that you had no real skills in the woods. Rather it was all thanks to Mahito. A strange man-creature who seemed to take pity on you the day when you were lost in the woods all those weeks ago.

Mahito was a tall slender man. Taller than any man you had ever met. Most of the time you found him leaning towards you when you spoke. Bending down so his face was now aligned with yours. He made you feel so small, yet by the looks of him. It appeared you had more weight to yourself than him. So tall yet so slim. One of the features that captured your attention during the first encounter. There was no helping the stares when you first spotted him. He seemed so terrifying, yet at the same time. You couldn't peel your eyes away. You watched him move around the trees. Picking plants and mushrooms. Stuffing his pockets filled with various plants and twigs.

Mahito's clothes were another peculiar part of him. They were none you had seen. Or at least, none that were styled properly. Sometimes his clothes appeared more human-like, but the first time you met him. His clothes looked made out of natural material. Moss detailed his pants and shirt. Climbing into his hair. You were sure if he stood still enough, he would blend in with some of the plants and trees around him.

He seemed so awkward that day, bending under branches. Letting his arms reach further than they should have. It was marvelling and uneasy watching him. Especially when the sun had peaked through the treetops. Shining down on the grass and him. That was when you noticed his skin. It wasn't any colour you had seen on a living being before. Rather it reminded you of the bodies of those who died from the great sickness years ago. You were just a child, but those images were burnt into your mind. The way the bodies lay in the mass grave. Too many dying to hold individual funerals. Their bodies lay cold and pale in the grave. Some in makeshift coffins, others loose in the ground. Some had died so long ago their skin had turned a cold pale grey and began peeling. While others had only been dead a few hours. Still appearing to have some life to them. Mahito looked like a cross between the two. Skin pale with a hint of grey, but still flushed and holding life. It appeared like he was toying with the line between life and death.

That day, he had caught you staring behind a tree. Lurking towards you before you figured out he knew you were there. Fear had coursed through your veins when he stared at you, hastily moving towards you. Your feet wouldn't run, but then what use would that be. He was so fast and his limbs were longer than yours. He would have no problem with retrieving you. However, when he did. He didn't harm you, he didn't curse you. No, he was kind and sweet in such an unnatural way, but it was still welcomed. Since then, you had met him almost every day to gather alongside him. He was your trick for foraging. Your walking, talking being of knowledge.

Today was like the others. Making your way through the dark woods. Trying to get to your usual meeting spot. It was the same location you had met him all that time ago. A nice area with plenty of plants to search through. Following the path, Mahito had shown you, avoiding every raised root or rock. It was a miracle that the first few times you went this way, you hadn't gotten seriously hurt. Though as you made your way through, you couldn't help, but get what you had heard earlier out of your head. Your neighbours had warned you today before you left. Not the usual warning of being careful in the woods. No, this was more. They had warned you about the missing people from other villages who shared the same woods. It would seem there had been a few people who had gone missing in the last few months. News only reaching your home now. You would need to warn Mahito about it. Fearing some bear or wolf had gone hungry and was now hunting anything it could find.

It wasn't long until you arrived, only to already see Mahito already there, sitting on a rock. Gazing at something in his hand. He always had some odd trinkets to show and give you. Some had been hair pins, and bracelets, while others you had never seen before. Beautiful little novelties Mahito would show and tell you about. Though always vague about how he had gotten it. Unclear on how he had come to collect some human items.

"Mahito" You waved as you walked towards him.

Mahito looked up, giving you a toothy smile as he watched you walk toward him. Had his teeth always been so, pointed? Sometimes you felt like no matter how many times you looked at him, there would always be something new.

"You're back?" He had stood up, pocketing what was in his hands and making his way to you. "Good, it's been too long."

Mahito had wrapped his arms around you. Bending himself over you in order to pull you close. Wrapping you completely in his embrace. He had to bend over almost completely in order to embrace. Though, he always did more than needed. Always engulfed you more than what was required for a hug from friends. It oddly felt more intimate than you cared for, but then again. He clearly wasn't fully human, chalking it up to him not knowing better.

"I missed you, my dear." He was pushing his face into your hair. Inhaling your scent.

"Hmmm, yeah? I missed you too." You let out an awkward laugh, trying to push him off of you to no avail. "Can we sit? I need to tell you something?"

Mahito let go reluctantly. Though his hand never left your body as he brought you to a log nearby. Taking a seat, only for him to pull you close down beside him. The way Mahito looked at you always made you anxious in some bizarre way. It was filled with an intensity like he was trying to see every thought you had with just a look. Yet, there was also another side to it. Curiosity, such intrigue with every word you said. With every move you made. It seemed like he wanted nothing more than to watch it all. You wouldn't admit it, but it was nice to be admired. Even if it was from him.

"Mahito, my family and friends are becoming nervous about me entering the woods now." Mahito narrowed his eyes at you, already knowing he wouldn't like where this was going. "You see, umm, there have been some people going missing in neighbouring villages."

You missed the change in Mahito's expression as you rambled on. Trying to explain your and other's concern. How you would need to limit your trips to him, or if there were more reports in the next few weeks. Perhaps you would need to stop completely for a while.

"There is nothing to fear." Mahito sounded so confident. "No one from your village has been hurt or has gone, right?" You nodded. "Then there's no worry. You are safe with me."

Staring at Mahito, knowing there was no arguing with him. He was always set in his ways. Hopefully, he would understand the severity of the reports. Understand that you aren't like him. You are at the mercy of the woods and every being living within it. A reality you never thought he would understand, but he did. He truly grasped your vulnerability, but would never let you know.

Mahito dropped the topic. Instead, leading you through the day's actions, showing you new plants he had found, and telling you their uses. Helping you fill your bag with food and herbs for medication. You marvelled at his ability. Looking at him like he was a god among men. A look he loved and would do anything to gain and keep.

Hours had passed. The sky was beginning to get darker. Indicating you would need to get home before you couldn't see your way anymore. Parting with Mahito was a difficult process. He would drag out the goodbye, insisting there was still more to collect and look for. It was better to start before you actually needed to go.

"Mahito, it's getting dark."

"Oh," Mahito looked at the sky. "You're right."

This was strange. Any other time when you mentioned the sky or the nearing of darkness. He would always insist you were wrong, that there was more. More time or more things to do, yet here he was. Agreeing with you for the first time.

"Before you go. Here."

Mahito opened your palm, placing something in it before closing your hand. Wrapping both of his around yours. Opening your hand, taking a look at what he had given you. It was a plant of some sort. A green stem connected to a small pale blue flower. The shapes of the petals were different. You'd never seen a flower like this before. They appeared pointed at the end before twirling in on themselves. It was extremely beautiful. Before you could ask anything about it, Mahito spoke.

"Eat it."

"What?"

"Eat it. Eat it."

Mahito lifted your hand with the flower to your mouth for you. There was no real-time or a chance to not do as he wanted. The flower was shoved in your mouth. For a moment you stood like that. His hand wrapped around your wrist. Flower in your mouth, simply sitting on your tongue. Unsure of what to do. Did he really want you to eat it?

"Chew and swallow."

It looked like he really did.

For a moment you just stared. The longer Mahito looked at you, the more you were convinced to follow his orders. You knew it would be best to just do as he says. It was most likely one of his herbs that would help you stay healthy during illness season. He tended to know when an illness would strike before anyone in your village did. Taking in your assumption, you chewed and swallowed the flower.

"Good girl." Mahito brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

You questioned what it was. Wondering if you were right. However, you weren't met with an answer. Not a real one, not one you wanted. Rather, he just gazed at you. Smiling down at you while his touch didn't leave. Finally, words left his lips.

"It's something from where I'm from. Something that makes you belong."

Before you could question him, your head felt heavy. It felt like you weren't able to hold it up anymore. It was quick and sudden. You weren't prepared for it.

"Ma-Mahito, I-I"

"What is it? You don't look so well."

You were so concentrated on staying upright that you missed the look on his face. The way he smiled, it wasn't filled with softness like it usually was with you. No, it was loaded with malice and delight now. Like he was the happiest he had ever been with you. Delighted by your willingness, by the way you trusted him so. How you simply did what he said with little hesitation. It was a breath of fresh air. Humans could be so stubborn and cruel, but you weren't. You were something else, something different. Not like those other humans who had crossed his path. They had been cruel, taking from the earth without caring, without giving back. They deserved what occurred to them. It was a shame his work was posing a threat of keeping you away from him, but not anymore. No, you were his.

As you began to give into the plant, falling into his arms. Shutting your eyes, it was easier than trying to stay awake, than staying upright. Your trust in this strange creature would be your end. It would be how you become the first in your village to go missing. To fall victim to the woods. However, unlike the rest. You would survive. After all, if he thought you were like the rest, you would have been dead long before you saw him that day. He had shown and given you so much. This would your way of saying thank you. Of giving back and he knows you'd agree with it when you wake later. After all, he had taught you the importance of giving. Of making sure you replace what you take. You had taken him, made him love you. Now, he was taking you. His dear little human.

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extra-v1rgin · 5 months

Text

This fic is,,, weird. But I enjoyed writing it. I still feel slightly embarrassed posting it however lol

Root idea inspired by phantasmiafxndom

Cw for mentions of child abuse *cough cough* Shinjuro

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Demons, in their current form, were not just disgusting to Kyojuro but also pathetic in a way that made his heart burn with anger. Decades ago it had been perfectly fine to kill them. The creatures were a scar upon humanity and extermination was agreed upon by nearly everyone.

Now people treated them like a nuisance at worst, some even tended to coddle them. Protests grew daily, demanding the demons be treated more humanely. Humanely? For creatures that used to eat humans, still did in some cases. It was a fate kinder than they deserved.

Despite Kyojuro’s distaste most people didn’t share his feelings on the matter. Perhaps the most upsetting was the fact that Senjuro had complete adoration for demons. He tried his best to tolerate his brothers ideas, but couldn’t often hide his disturbance.

It only got worse when a few of Senjuro’s schoolmates got demons of their own. They had become a new fad, and the ultimate status symbol. Why have a dog or cat when instead you could find a demon who you could dress up with hair to brush.

Even his own brother cooed over the creatures. One or two of his classmates (alongside a few of Kyojuro’s own students) sported such popular pets and enjoyed showing them off. During lunch students would gather around pictures to oo and ah over whatever unique features the particular example had.

And while Rengoku worked a humble job as a teacher, their father still had plenty of money to spare even after retirement, something his younger brother was well aware of. It was no surprise when Senjuro too started to beg for a pet. The man was less secretive of his distaste inside his own home. He wasn’t harsh or cruel with the boy, simply firm. Senjuro had asked for pets before. This obsession would fade much like rest.

—-

Six months later Kyojuro gave in. Senjuro had earned some sort of reward. The elder brother didn’t like to leave the home often, not for elongated periods of time. Shinjuro mostly kept to himself now but it wasn’t impossible for their father to lash out. These incidents were few and far between. The only connection between them was that they occurred when Kyojuro wasn’t in the home.

But he had a job to do. Volunteering for an overnight field trip had perhaps been a mistake on his own part. In the past Senjuro had been able to find appropriate accommodations for the night or two his brother was gone. This time it was simply a combination of all the wrong things coming together.

He shouldn’t have believed his younger brother’s insistences that everything would be ok. Uzui or Sanemi would loathe watching the children but he could’ve forced one of the other men to take his place. That didn’t change the fact that he was the one who left on the trip. Everything on his end went rather smoothly. The children were rowdy, but didn’t cause any major problems. After constantly checking in and several reassurances from Senjuro he pushed his worries to the back of his mind.

They rushed forward again when Kyojuro arrived home. Even upon his return his brother greeted him with a smile and warm hug. It would’ve been a nice welcome under most circumstances. Senjuro wore a high collar, creeping above his neck. It wasn’t entirely inappropriate for the weather but wasn’t part of his typical ensemble.

Rengoku went to pull at the turtleneck. Though the boy nervously tried to avoid the attempts it wasn’t as if he could run away.

“It’s fine aniue,” he mumbled. Kyojuro saw a purple spot forming. It wasn’t too large, not the largest Senjuro or himself had ever recieved, but still there nonetheless. Softly he brushed the area with his thumb. His younger brother let out a little puff of air despite his attempts to hold in any reaction.

Finally allowed to pull away he backs up. Already his eyes are clouding with tears. Kyojuro waits for a moment, gently reaching his hand out so it barely hovers above the boy’s shoulder. When Senjuro leans into the touch he’s quickly smothered in an overbearing hug. He doesn’t quite sob, but tears soak into the elder brother’s shirt.

Even though Senjuro is mature (which sometimes makes Rengoku guilty in a way, because he shouldn’t have to be so mature) he’s still fourteen. Beyond that he’ll always be the younger of the two. Kyojuro had gotten used to sharing a bed and taking care of a sick brother and buying birthday gifts the moment their mother died, when Senjuro had barely started school. It feels natural to pick him up and settle on one of the softer couches. He’s small enough to still be able to curl up in Rengoku’s lap.

The two are happy to sit there for awhile. Senjuro was never much of a talker so the man doesn’t push him for now. Tears roll down his cheeks, which Rengoku swears still carry a bit of baby fat.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left. I’ll be more careful next time. You didn’t-“

“It’s not your fault aniue. F-father just- he got mad because I dropped a plate and it’s fine. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” More water wells up in the corner of his eyes. After sucking in a shuddering breath he tries again. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

“Ok.” Kyojuro’s eyes soften. “You did a good job though.” He shouldn’t have had to, but Senjuro’s been forced to grow quickly. “We’ll do something for you though. Whaddya want? We can get dessert or go to that fancy ramen place or whatever else.”

Senjuro sniffles again. “You’ll be mad at me.”

“Of course I won’t, you can choose anything.”

“Ok.”

—-

A demon was not was Kyojuro had in mind. He had lightly protested at first but after Senjuro relented with a horribly sad look the man ended up being the one to insist. He bit back the opposing words on his tongue and tried to be supportive.

It was obvious the boy had been thinking about this for quite some time. He already had a list of several local rescues and even pulled an older futon into one of the many spare rooms they had.

Rengoku had trouble keeping a solid smile on his face, but even when it slipped his brother didn’t notice.

So they (well mostly Senjuro, who finally insists on going one day after school) arrive at a vaguely creepy facility, white walls with rows of cages on either side. The cashier is a young woman who drags her voice out too much, weirdly high in an attempt to appear more friendly. Her lax appearance was strange with the rest of the sterile environment.

Senjuro was free to pick one of his own out. Kyojuro found all of them equally repulsive, and had no preference for which one ended up in their home. The only thing he wanted was for his brother to change his mind and let them leave empty handed. He felt bad for thinking such bitter thoughts considering what had propelled their visit. Everytime he tried to improve his attitude Rengoku would catch sight of meat sitting in feeding bowls or little signs declaring the temperament of a specific pet.

Senjuro was firm in his choices however and they ended up with something vaguely human, though that wasn’t very remarkable. It (They, Senjuro kept on insisting, like it was an actual being) had greyish skin and sunken eyes. With a few random spikes and other inhuman qualities it was pretty typical in terms of demons. It wasn’t the most repulsive one there, plenty had more appalling traits like multiple eyes or huge fists perfect for clawing people.

The chatty saleswoman cooed as she opened up the cage and beckoned you forward. “Good choice! This one’s quiet, but the most well-behaved cutie you’ve ever seen.” As you drag yourself out of the cage and rise to your full height Rengoku grimaces. You don’t look particularly threatening, smaller than him with blank eyes and greasy hair. ‘Cute’ is not the word that comes to mind.

Hesitantly taking the new leash clipped to your collar Senjuro tugs you forward. You move along with the motions, following quick enough that the lead never draws taut. One of your feet drags slightly each time you take a step.

“Hi.” The boy is so quiet as he whispers it. He seems a little shy, reverent maybe? Holding eye contact for only a moment or two he looks away and back towards his brother. “I want this one aniue.” The shyness holds as he

at Kyojuro.

The man bites his tongue for a minute and tries to think of an appropriate response. “And you’re sure?” He tries to keep the judgement out of his voice.

It’s detected anyways. Senjuro’s brow furrows slightly. His brother is never truly angry, but annoyed seems like a just reaction. “Yes! I promise.” The words rush out quickly in a way that leaves no room for argument.

“Awesome! And just so you know each adoption comes with some basic care items, a bit of meat, feeding bowls, um I think there’s a booklet included.” The saleswoman bounces around the counter and roots in the drawers underneath. “Is this your first one? Honestly I thought about adopting in the past but after spending all my time here I’ve gotten my fill of demons.”

Senjuro nods along politely to each sentence. Rengoku merely stares out the window and waits until she asks for a card. When she finally finishes her spiel he slaps the card down. Demons can be low-maintenance (in actuality that means negligent owners who can’t quite get in trouble with how resilient demons are) but when properly taken care of they can be rather expensive. The cost of meat alone, synthetic human or the animal kind, can scare many away. Money here isn’t the problem.

Kyojuro has to carry all the accessories back to the car. His brother opted to chose about a dozen different types of collars and bowls and whatever else in his excitement. Trailing behind slightly he still holds your leash in hand. Every few steps he’ll nervously look back as if to make sure you’re still following. You don’t react to any of these glances, don’t react to anything at all other than stopping when he does and moving forward when prompted.

Once you’re brought to the car Kyojuro directs you towards the back, where several plastic covers have been put over the seats. Senjuro has to lean over to buckle you, jolting each time his skin brushes against yours. Pulling away he hovers for a moment before his brother directs him towards the front seat.

—-

Their house is nice. You’re led to a mostly bare room which is dubbed as yours. The older Rengoku dumps the toys in the corner and is quick to leave afterwards. You can still smell him sharply though, lingering just beyond the doorway.

The younger one parades you around the room to show off the space. Currently there is a futon in the corner with a shelf pressed against the opposite wall. Senjuro promises to get you more to furnish the space but it makes no difference to you.

“I’ll see if there’s a salon or something like that. They can bathe you and help with your nails.”

They’re claws, pointed and sharp but also splintering from lack of care. With no other way to respond you give a dull nod.

“I didn’t really think about clothes, but I do have an oversized shirt for you. It’s more like a dress really.” While explaining he plucks the piece from the bottom of your new belongings. “Aniue might have some old clothes that fit you, just until I go shopping.”

At that your mouth drops into a sharper frown. His brother smells like anger and hatred and something too harsh for your nose. It’s not as if you’re not used to being disliked. Demons generally don’t get along with one another and being put in a shelter usually meant whatever previous owner you had wasn’t great. His distaste though was sharp on your tongue as the smell wafted through the air. It wasn’t like casual neglect or dehumanization— there wasn’t even subtle joy taken in the sight of your current state, he didn’t want you there at all.

Put off by the thought of the man you turn away and crawl underneath your futon. It’s warm against your chilled skin. Peeking your head out from the thick sheets you watch as he spreads the rest of the accessories around the space. The whole time he talks softly, not to you specifically, but fills the space with sound. He’s quiet and doesn’t say things pointlessly which keeps your annoyance from rising.

By the time he finishes you’re already half asleep. You’ve spent the last few months sitting in a cage most of the day, even just moving from one home to another has worn you out. Nerves alone keep your eyes open, at least while he’s in the room. The moment he leaves however your willpower thins.

—-

Days pass slowly. Senjuro feed’s you before he heads to school, at which point you’re mostly left alone. Kyojuro occasionally passes the room, but never pauses. A few times when it’s absolutely silent you’ll poke your head out of your room. You don’t ever end up passing the threshold of it though. Nobody’s invited you outside of the space and you don’t fancy getting punished for such a small journey.

Mostly you nap or pace around your room. There’s not much in terms of entertainment but it’s not a horrible existence. Senjuro is only gone for a few hours. When he gets home the boy will do homework in your room. It becomes so much of a habit that an extra desk gets shoved into the space. While he works you rest at his feet or watch him through your blankets.

Your routine rarely shifts, which is nice in its own way. Change is more often bad than good, but the humans seem to have their own ideas about what you need.

This afternoon when Senjuro enters his brother follows. When you sense Rengoku approaching however you try to scramble backwards. Senjuro’s arms stick out in front of him as he tries to calm you. You’re not very happy but you soften slightly anyways.

Now that you’re paying attention his words make real sense. “I want you and aniue to get along. He’s not mean so you can’t be either.” His brother stands in the doorway, looking threatening still.

“Please aniue, you have to be nice.” Senjuro looks up at the man. “Can’t you just pet them once? I don’t like it when you ignore each other.”

Rengoku approaches you carefully. In an attempt to please his brother the man wasn’t quite as brash as usual. But his feelings were still clear on his face, and the smell of his anger flows through the air. You’re tempted to back up even more, hiding flat beneath the chair.

In turn his expression only grows more displeased.

After a few minutes of him standing angrily in the middle of the room Senjuro observes the threatening aura easily and was quick to intervene. “Aniue! You have to be more gentle.” He runs to your side. Though the boy wasn’t particularly strong you allowed him to pull you into his lap. His soft hands run over your hair in soothing motions. “See, you have to be nice if you want them to trust you.” While he continued to cradle you an eye opened to peek at the elder brother. He looked even more upset than before, which brought a sly smile to your face.

With your sharp nose you could smell how hard Kyojuro had bit his tongue. The faintest smell of blood drifted in the air while saliva pooled in your mouth. Turning your smug face away you attempted to burrow further into the carpet and soft fabric. You roll around in the gentle feeling of his hands and the sweet smell of his clothes. He must’ve been cooking earlier, something sweet like sugar or baking mix is smeared over the front of his clothes.

Though you’ve hidden your face Kyojuro’s presence is still clear. When he settles beside you all your muscles pull tight. His hands graze over you twice while you lie as still as possible.

“Alright, is that good?” The man is already standing up.

Senjuro doesn’t seem satisfied at all, with your performance alongside his brother’s, but nods anyways. It seems the mood has gone sour, the way he leaves soon after. He tries not to make it feel like a punishment but a bit of guilt gnaws at your bones.

—-

The next day Senjuro is back to his usual routine although the air still feels a bit too quiet. Worry keeps you alert to his movements. A few times he opens his mouth without speaking. On the third or fourth try he finally manages to get a few words out.

“I’m having aniue take you to get all washed up and everything tomorrow. You have to be good otherwise he won’t want to do this for me again.” His sternness is in full force, and surprisingly authentic. Blinking up at him you give a curt nod, waiting for the petting to resume.

It does soon enough and you’re happy to settle back down.

—-

The spa- salon or whatever they call themselves is surprisingly pleasant. You’re shy at first. There’s lots of people there, other demons too. Some are carefully restrained, muzzles and harnesses and even one fashioned in a straight jacket.

You wish Senjuro had taken you. The boy would’ve coaxed you inside gently and explained everything along the way. Rengoku drags you towards the receptionist and clips your collar to one of the tethers there. As soon as you’re checked in and given a pickup time he leaves you there. You’re not shaking— that would be cowardly —but there’s a nerve running through your body.

The woman who takes you is nice. She has pretty pink hair with a friendly face, but ultimately is unfamiliar in a way that makes you resistant. When you don’t move with her she trues to guide you with a hand. It’s so warm again your skin. Senjuro’s touches are always light and the woman isn’t rough but it’s rougher than he is.

The hiss isn’t purposeful, not even threatening. It works to describe your discomfort. She tries soothing voices to guide you towards one of the chairs, but you stay rooted to the spot.

“Five steps ok? Why don’t you move with me and we can sit down.” When she nudges your legs you finally take one step. The woman guides you slowly until you settle down on one of the recliners. You’re still stiff, but in a position where they can start to take care of you.

Lots of different people do lots of different things. A man trims your talons and applies a thick shiny coat over them. He offers color but you staunchly shake your head.

Another person trims your hair. She carefully moves it away from your face and takes off a minimal amount. You can’t really see much of a difference, too distracted by all the little ends that have scattered across your face. The woman dusts them off with a fluffy brush that makes you sneeze. Everyone nearby coos after and you feel like more of a lapdog than a demon.

Someone else leads you over to a private bathroom, where you’re promptly scrubbed down. They use lots of bubbles and scented oils that edge on being too much for your senses. The after-effect is nice though, a calm lavender scent that’s much more pleasant than dirt and raw meat (even if the latter was tastier). You’re thrown into an oversized sweatshirt with matching pants, soft fleece lining the inside.

It all goes rather quickly. There’s dozens of new scents and people that cloud your brain. It’s hard to absorb the reality of everything until you’re allowed to actually rest. A side room lets you find a quiet place to curl up and rest.

Even though you’ve done just the barest amount of stumbling around there’s a weight to your bones that drags you down. You can’t remember if you were always like this or if it’s a side effect of being caged for so long. Either way you feel like a poor imitation of what a demon should be. A poodle compared to a wolf.

Part of you doesn’t really care. It’s not like you’ll ever be expected to kill or even hunt. This is the result from years of domestication.

You leave all the wondering for another day. Your mind is just a tired as your body and it’s no surprise when your eyes slip closed.

—-

Kyojuro drags you back into the car after a harsh awakening. You’re still half asleep but stumble out once he has a hand on your leash.

Slumping over in the back seat you drift back in and out of sleep. Everytime the man hits the breaks you jerk forward and wake back up.

But by the time you get home you’ve been knocked out fully. Your head dips downwards only to lose ok up an indeterminate amount of time later.

For a few minutes you wait awkwardly in the car. It’s hard to tell how much time has passed, but in reality it probably hasn’t been too long. Senjuro would’ve come out to wake you if he was home.

You decide nobody else would be inclined to fetch you. Crawling out of the backseat you dart towards the door leading inside.

Unsure of where exactly your room is you’re forced to rely on scent. You’ve never been outside of your room in length, and can’t recall the layout of most of the home.

Currently your strategy is to point your head in one direction and sniff. It seems to be doing a relatively good job of leading you in the right direction, or at least the smell isn’t getting any weaker.

Though much of the house is rather boring, plain walls with nice furniture that doesn’t really tell you anything, you do take note of whatever is a little interesting. There’s fresh flowers in one of the vases along the hallway. They must’ve been cut just a day or two ago. As you pass the kitchen you notice four seats at the dinner table, with room for more if needed. You haven’t heard any guests in the weeks you’ve been here, so it’s an odd sight.

Kyojuro seems to be absent at the moment, making your movements much more relaxed. You don’t drag your feet or wander aimlessly but you’re happy to poke your head in certain places were it doesn’t belong.

One room in particular captures your attention. Most of the home smells the same, with the brother’s scents flowing and ebbing depending on the space. In a darker hallway however there’s the sharp scent of alcohol. Underneath it you can sense another human within, a damp smell like overripe fruit. At first it makes you pause (the only sound is heavy breathing inside the room) and then scurry away from it.

You find your room soon after, happy to dive into your sheets. Pulling off the oversized clothes you’re happier to take in more familiar fragrances.

—-

When Senjuro gets home he showers you with compliments. Fingers sweep through your soft locks.

However he seems determined at ruining your peace. “Wasn’t Aniue great for taking you?” He tries to hide his pointed tone.

You give a non-committal shrug.

The boy huffs but doesn’t leave you like he did last time.

“They were booked too far ahead on Saturdays but next time I’ll plan for that so we can go together.”

Letting out a pleased trill you flop onto the ground.

The boy moves backwards. “Let’s get some food yea?” He waits for you to follow.

Never having been invited out of your room (Kyojuro taking you out earlier was less of an invite and more of a demand) you move hesitantly. Within the home there’s no leash attached to your collar. It’s nice most of the time but you could use it as proper direction for where he wants you to go. Every few steps you end up stopping because you’re so hesitant. You’re just grateful that Senjuro doesn’t mind how slow you make the journey.

The open air of the kitchen makes you nervous. There’s so many places to look that it makes you dizzy.

Senjuro opens the refrigerator. At the bottom there’s stacks of meat, all different kinds. Technically it makes sense. It’s not as if someone is purchasing your food everyday. The steaks and patties you get eat night have to appear from somewhere.

With it all in front of you however saliva fills your mouth.

“You can pick out your dinner this time. I thought that could be fun!” He pulls your arm towards the icy cooler.

Moving slowly you just point to the top of the pile. You’d eat the whole thing if you could, but given the choice to pick one there’s not much difference to you.

Senjuro looks a bit disappointed so you instead take more action. Moving the packages around pointlessly you choose another from somewhere in the middle. The letters outlining it explain nothing to you, but there’s juice and blood flowing around the free spaces. Mostly you’re just excited to run back to your room and sink your teeth into the fat and sinew. It leaves saliva pooling in your mouth.

With slightly shaky hands you hand it over to Senjuro. Even though you know it’ll end up back in your hold your instincts scream at you to keep it. The tips of your fingernails burn as you try to keep your claws in control.

With dilated eyes focused on the meat you don’t notice the smell of alcohol wafting into the room. The younger boy does, and he tries to take your hand and guide you away. As you’re unworried you drag your feet along the way. Ignoring his urgings you’re caught off guard when a hand hooks into the back of your shirt.

Turning around you think it’s Kyojuro who’s grabbed you. They look almost identical but a bit of extra height and some light stubble indicate him as someone else. You may be dumb but you’re not stupid and it’s easy to guess that this is the pairs father. You hadn’t considered the full image of their family, only caring to note those you interacted with.

His anger is different than Kyojuro’s. Is less pointed, engulfing the whole room rather than poking your skin alone. It smells rotten.

“Who brought this damned thing into my house?” Shinjuro’s question doesn’t require an answer, it’s already obvious. You try to turn tail and race into your room once he releases you, but you’ve been turned around and there’s no clear line to the exit. Senjuro reaches out to his father, trying to calm him.

“Aniue said it was ok so I just thought-“

“Kyojuro’s not your father is he?”

“N-no but-“

“Stop letting him act like he runs the fucking household. If he wants to be in charge he can get his own place.” Along with his cruel words his hands twist into fists. As an arm raises Senjuro shakes in anticipation.

You dart forward, nearly knocking the boy over. A strong fist collides with your forehead. You’ve been hit before, but you can’t remember a time a human had been able to hurt you this much.

Knocked off balance you’re happy enough to crouch to the ground. As the room comes back into focus another hand comes towards you. Lifted up harshly you’re face to face with the man. You’re hissing and spitting as you resist Shinjuro’s grip. Lying down and drinking had brought down the man’s physique, but shadows of muscle still remained. He clutches your hair in one hand. The minute you raise your claws he captures your wrists in the other. You try to gnash your teeth and aim yourself at his skin, but you can’t get near him. The best you could do now was lash out with your legs.

Twisting like a serpent you tried to loosen his grip. Senjuro was crying as he pulled on your clothing, trying his best to free you in his own way.

You’re only dropped when a door at the front of the house softly opens and shuts. The noise is barely perceptible to human ears, but Shinjuro still senses it. The moment he pushes you to the ground the man is quick to disappear back into his room.

Senjuro dashes to your side. At the moment you curl into yourself. The bruises around your wrists are already fading but your muscles are stiff when you move.

The boy clutches onto your body like you might be dying. Currently you’re not inclined to brush away his tears though you wish they’d stop.

“What happened here?” For once Kyojuro’s voice isn’t obnoxiously chipper or filled with disgust. There’s a genuine tone that you’ve never heard before. You still don’t bother to glance his way, trying to find comfort on the hard ground.

“F-father he um, he was being mean again and when he tried to grab me they got into a fight.” His voice is still thick with emotion as he crouches over you.

“Oh.” Kyojuro’s surprised. It’s silent for a quick second. “Well are you ok?”

“Aniue! I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” His arms grab your torso and try to lift you. With shaky arms you attempt to help him. There’s no reason you should be in such a weak state, perhaps after being pampered for a bit you’ve lost touch with what it’s like to be beast.

When the eldest is quick to scoop you up you’re at least well enough to let a quiet growl leap out from the back of your throat. You don’t move however. It’d be awful to get dumped on floor again and Kyojuro’s body is very warm against your side.

That doesn’t change the fact that the minute he sets you down into your room you run for your sheets. Hiding beneath them you try to peek without being caught. The worry is worthless because Rengoku has already disappeared and Senjuro is in his place.

He hand feeds you chunks of fancy meat, you think it’s cow, and pets your hair while you try not to fall asleep. The boy is whispering all kinds of praises that melt into one another but the culmination of all of them buzzes under your skin. Senjuro is often quick to praise but you’ve never felt as if it’s been truly earned.

—-

The next day Kyojuro approaches your room (willingly) again. Senjuro is already is his typical spot while you hide in the corner.

You’re surprised, but not enough to move. Glancing up with tired eyes you watch him go towards his brother.

“How come you took them out of the room?”

“I- Aniue! I said I was sorry.”

“I know, I’m not mad or anything ok? You just gotta tell me what’s going on.”

You stick your head out of your bed to listen. Kyojuro gives you a curious glance before looking away.

“Um, Muichiro-kun said it’s good to involve demons with their feedings. It cultivates bonding. He said he saw it in an article online.”

The elder brother sighs deeply. “It shouldn’t have to be this way but I need you to ask me before you do things like this ok? I’m just looking out for you.”

“I’m sorry aniue.”

“Don’t be. I don’t- you shouldn’t have to be sorry. I’ll have a talk with father.”

“It won’t do anything,” he mumbles under his breath. Perhaps Senjuro is feeling especially bitter today.

Kyojuro frowns but can’t muster a response. His eyes sweep over the room before the man turns around to leave.

—-

It’s another day where Senjuro is gone but the eldest is still home. You can’t keep track of the days or form any sort of schedule, you just know this happens on occasion.

You creep out of your room early in the morning. Though you can rely on scent to lead you it’s not as good as simply knowing the space. Every few turns you convince yourself you’re passing something relatively familiar.

After minutes of wandering you pass the room that contains Rengoku. The door is open so you step inside, then back out, and then back in. You’re not sure how to grab his attention.

Turning around you leave, only to re-enter. This time you let your foot collide with the door. The small tapping noise grabs his attention. You try to resist the instinct to hide. For now you just slouch more and hold your arms to your chest.

“What do you want?” Kyojuro speaks normally for once. You could imagine him asking anyone the question.

Peeling back your lips you try to get your vocal chords to form the proper noises. Instead of words you push out a low grumble that leads into a whine. You try the action several times to imitate something he could understand.

Moving closer you attempt the noise once more. His face holds a confusing mix of emotions, still a bit of disgust hidden within the layers.

Bowing your head and rolling your shoulders you hope that body language could bridge the gap in his understanding.

“Are you saying sorry?” At the question you look up and nod eagerly. Your face can’t form a proper friendly smile, but the result is hopefully close enough. It’s silly but a sense of accomplishment washes over you.

The man smiles back (his is warm and honest, painted with a touch of surprise). “Oh, well, thank you I suppose.”

A beat of silence. You wouldn’t be able to respond with anything other than more primal calls.

“And you do a good job of taking care of Senjuro. I’m glad someone is here for him when I’m gone.”

Ignoring the underlying bitterness (jealousy? blame?) you nod once more. As your head bows a sneaky hand rises to pet it. Kyojuro only taps your hair once or twice beneath turning and returning to his work.

Pleased you make sure there’s nothing remaining before running back to your room.

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