Tumgik
#i know ive been using pinks and reds a lot
tameshrimp · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✰ KAMADO TANJIROU ✰
CONSTANT FLUX! ✘ STRIKING TIDE!
2K notes · View notes
peachcitt · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
normally i never make resolutions because im of the opinion that you can change your life whenever you want and technically speaking any day of the year can be the start of a new year. that being said. my past year was kind of garbage.
so! i have decided to be more keen on new years resolutions, especially making ones that will hopefully make me feel better if something i can't control affects me negatively. i actually made a huge list of resolutions, more than i put here, that all kind of boil down to trying out ways to make my life more comfortable and fulfilling for myself and the people around me.
happy new year everybody i hope this year treats us all kindly :)
#new year's resolutions#new year's resolutions 2023#my art#peach stuff#also i know it's a scientific fact that if you write your goals down you're more likely to achieve them#have i ever written my goals down if i wasn't forced to before? no. and maybe that's why ive been so shit at reaching my goals<3#also about the goal that's about finding a hobby that uses my hands: ive realized recently that both of my main hobbies#(reading and writing) are both very brain-heavy things to do. like those are both two things that require a lot Being Inside My Head#and you know! maybe ive realized that it's Not Good to be in my head so much!#so i want to find a more tactile hobby that won't require so much brain time and can connect me more with the physical world#also i drew this all in ms paint with my new laptop and laptop pen and maybe i just don't understand ms paint enough#but this was kind of a bitch to draw. where is the layer function. why was my laptop screen still registering my skin when i was using pen#but still i like how it looks. especially the peach and my hair. the peach just because it looks cute and peach-like#and i think this is the first time ive drawn/colored my hair since i died it this past summer so it was fun to experiment with#how to make it accurate but still cohesive with the colors i already had down#my hair is actually variations on an auburn sort of shade since its faded from a really shitty (self-done) red dye job#but the pink here is fun :)#anyway. that's all
34 notes · View notes
flynnriderishot · 1 month
Note
i needddd cute pt 2
cute pt.2 - m.s
a/n: i’ve been feeling really bad that i missed the original persons request by a mile 😭 so i’m gonna add that into this part lol
warnings: i couldn’t really figure out how to word it but i PROMISE matt wasn’t being creepy about following her to the bathroom‼️ he just really wanted to meet her. we don’t do that weird shit over here 🙄
also, vinnie hacker mention 🗣️ unfortunately, he has nothing to do with the story, i just needed someone to add💀
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you were invited to a party that a friend of a friend was throwing.
did you know who this person was? vaguely.
in your eyes, it didn’t really matter.
what mattered was that matt sturniolo and his brothers would also be attending this party.
while you didn’t really have to go, you were a good friend and rightfully needed some time away from your social media life.
what better way to do that than to surround yourself with social media influencers? cue the sarcasm.
what made this all the more annoying to you was that it was a ‘valentines day’ party.
as if you weren’t all over the age of eighteen. you wanted to roll your eyes at the thought.
sure, the thought was cute and the idea was definitely there. but as you walked into the house, y/f/n’s hand in your own, you couldn’t help but scrunch up your face at the excessive amount of pink and red that flooded your vision.
“i guess we missed the memo?”
“no, i saved us the embarrassment of looking like we were back in third grade.” y/fn laughed out a scoff.
“i should definitely pay you more.”
while she was your friend, she also helped quite a lot with managing your channel. with reminding you of what your supporters wanted to see, to recording you anytime you needed content.
and though before she would say it was out of the kindness of her heart, you felt bad that she did so much for free. and once you started getting popular, you made quick work to pay her for all the stuff she did in the past and now she practically worked for you.
it was a win win situation. you got a best friend and a coworker all in one. it was much better than your previous partner that expected so much more for doing not nearly as much as y/f/n did.
“i definitely wouldn’t complain.”
you shared a laugh, moving your way through the crowed and to the drink table.
“i haven’t been to a party in a while, what are the odds we see a fight break out?”
a voice behind you interrupted before she could respond, “that would make this place so much more entertaining.”
your eyes widen as you froze up, trying to pinpoint where you may have heard the voice before turning around to actually see who it was.
“hi.” nick smiled at you.
“oh my god. hi.” you pulled him into a hug, pulling away to see him do the same to y/f/n, introducing himself to her as they hadn’t known one another very well.
“it’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“you’re telling me.” you stepped aside so he could lean against the wall with you two, “i’ve been wanting to say thank you in person since you’ve sent me that lip balm.”
“i can vouch.” y/f/n spoke up, “after your live together, she wouldn’t shut up about it.”
nick smiled, “i appreciate it, and i’m glad you like it. ive been wanting to meet you too, you’re like one of my favorite youtubers ever.”
“my god, shut up.” you roll your eyes, nick coping the motion.
“speaking of the live…”
“goodness.”
nick didn’t stop, “what’s this crush you have on my brother?”
“no crush, just…admiring his beauty.” you brushed off the teasing look they gave you.
“it’s definitely a crush. you can’t admire matt’s beauty without thinking nick and chris are attractive as well. they’re triplets.” y/f/n stated matter of factly.
“right.” nick agreed, “we literally have the same face.”
“nick and chris are gorgeous.”
“oh, thank you.”
you look back to see chris walking towards you guys, smile on his face. with just a simply glance to the side, you could see matt following closely behind his brother, eyes darting around him.
“oh.” your eyes widen, chris’ snort echoing in your ears as you pass your soda off to him, “i need to go to the bathroom.”
“no, you don’t.” nick laughed.
“i’ll be back!” you shouted, secretly having no intentions of returning until it was clear that matt wouldn’t be around.
“she’s nervous to meet you.” you could hear y/f/n telling matt after the middle triplet asked what was wrong.
if he was absolutely beautiful through your screen, you couldn’t imagine what he’d look like in person.
you barely managed to stop your face from warming up when you saw him in one of their podcasts episodes, how would you react if you got the chance to see him in person? last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself.
“hi, yn.” a voice called out, leading you to look over and smile,
“hi, vinnie.”
“you okay?” the hacker frowned at your unusually tense nature.
“i’m fine, i need the bathroom!” you called out, unaware of the blue eyes that were following your figure, also hearing your statement and making it his goal to get there before you.
“you’re going the wrong way.” vinnie laughed, pointing in the opposite direction of which you were walking.
“right, i knew that!” yoh waved off his drunken cackle, managing to make it down the hall and to the bathroom within a minute. you hoped you were lucky enough to walk in a not see some random couple doing it on the counter top.
as you opened the door, letting a sigh of relief and a short, “jesus”, you were startled when a voice spoke to you,
“take it as a compliment, you’re a lot cuter in person.”
opening your eyes in a panic, you spotted matt, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in front of the mirror.
“oh, my god.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb
tags for this fic: @3kslav @bb-1s-blog @annamcdonalds67 @sturns333 @dracoflaco @electrobutterfly @wolfstarfate @landrysflannel @3mm4yung @strnsblog @lexxxiii-iix @patscorner @lemon-criminal
382 notes · View notes
miya-rin · 1 year
Text
"i can't believe you got in a fight.”
“he hit me first, you just expect me to stand there and take that?"
a small chuckle leaves his mouth at your choice of words, standing between you parted legs osamu has been patching you up after a ‘small mishap’ with one of your classmates.
"obviously not, its just…" his voice trails off as he rummages around in the first aid kit until he finds an alcohol wipe, gently tearing it open before swiping it across your cheek, you wince in discomfort and he gives you an apologetic look. "sorry — its just, you're not really the type to hit someone, like i know you can defend yourself but cmon, you knocked him out."
"deserved."
"you really are something else." he laughs as he starts to dig around to find something else to slather over your face.
"thankyou."
"not a compliment."
“i'm gonna take it as one."
"i knew you would."
"yeah yeah whatever, you would have done the same.”
“oh yeah totally.” he picks up a tube of antibacterial cream and gently starts to apply it to the cut on your cheek, making sure to be extra careful as to not put too much.
“thankyou by the way.” he tilts his head up to look you in the eye for a split second before focusing back on the cream in his hand.
"hm?"
"for cleaning me up and that, thankyou."
"yeah well you probably wouldn't have, the blood would just be dried up all over your hands and face.”
"oh shut up," you let out a light laugh and by god you sound amazing "i'm not that bad."
"sure, whatever you say.”
the room elopes in silence — comfortable silence, the kind where you're not too worried if someone speaks or not, and yet you do.
"say, how long have you been dying your hair?"
"oh, i'm not sure, wh-" his words are cut short as he feels your hands snake up his undercut and into the dyed strands atop his head. shit he thinks, he so badly wants to look up at you, but he knows that if he does he won't be able to look away.
"it's really soft, what conditioner do you use? it must be good for it to not be completely dead."
"yeah." he stutters slightly, but just enough that you might not have been able to hear it. god he hopes you didn't hear it.
he still doesn't answer your question, staying quiet for a good minute or so before you decide to take action. gently tugging at his hair, an indication for him to look at you, he puts down whatever he was fiddling with and his eyes meet yours. they're a lot wider than normal, he almost looks scared, but from the dusting of pink spread across his cheeks you can tell it's something different. hes nervous.
“osamu, did you hear me?” the way you’re lightly scratching at his scalp turns him to putty in your hands. “i asked you a question.”
“uhm..i started dying it when i was like 13? so about 5 years now. and whatever conditioner my ma brings home.” you hum in approval as you continue to mess around with his hair.
“you know…i should probably finish bandaging you up.” he makes a start at grabbing some plasters to put over your bruised and bloody knuckles, avoiding eye contact even harder than before.
“wow, you wanna get rid of me that quickly? youre cold osamu.”
thats gets him to look at you.
“i never said that.”
“dont act dumb now, i heard you loud and clear.”
“youre putting words in my mouth.”
“oh so you’re accusing me now? this isnt the osamu i know and love.” as soon as that last word falls from your lips osamu burns a crimson red from his face to his neck and probably lower, choking on his spit and trying to catch his breath. if only you had your phone on you.
“you what?” he can finally speak by the looks of it.
“i love you. dont act like you didnt know.”
“yn, tell me youre joking.”
“are you rejecting me right now? thats a mean way to do it dont you think?”
“are you kidding me? ive had a crush on you since we were 15.”
“i know, why dont you do something about it?” you say with a sly smirk. he still looks on edge at the whole interaction, but theres no time like the present.
he lifts up his large and calloused hands to grab both sides of your face before bringing you into a sweet but passionate kiss, it doesnt last long as you are both conscious of the fact that anyone could walk into the schools medical room, but it is just enough to leave you both satisfied after years of pining. pulling away you are met with that boyish smile you fell in love with all those years ago.
“now that i think about it, im kinda glad you got into that fight…”
“so am i.”
526 notes · View notes
Text
Cruel Summer Chapter 1 (Chris Evans x Actress/Singer!Reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Okay, So Ive been away for a hot minute. And I've been through quite a bit. But I got inspired to write this and I hope yall love it!! Couple of things. 1.) Taylor Swift doesnt exist in this series, the reader is like taylor swift! 2) dont come for me, I've been chewing on this idea for a few months now lol. 3.) Im almost done with chapter 1 of My Alpha, I know I've gotten some messages about that!! Also, half way through chapter 2 of Midnight rain ;) Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on this!! love you guys!!!)
Thoughts? Suggestions? General opinion wanted here!!!!!
You’d be delusional to think that he wanted anything more than hookups with you. Being a movie star was hard enough to make a “normal” life ...falling in love with your co-star though...that made everything even worse. That’s what led you to becoming a world famous pop star, releasing smash hit after smash hit. Your smile; when up on that stage, tens of thousands of fans screaming your songs as you sang them, standing ovations, tears of happiness, excitement, thrill, it all made that heartache ease just a little bit. But not all the way. 
“Tonight is a HUGE night, I can’t believe you’re going to announce another album. I’m in awe, really I am.” Your mom said, grabbing your shoulders and looking at you in the mirror of the room you were currently using backstage. “Mom, thanks so much for traveling with me during this tour. It means so much to me.” you smiled softly at her, “especially after everything I’ve been through recently. Wanna know the surprise songs tonight? Or just be surprised like everyone else?” you asked with a soft laugh. 
Your mom and dad were your biggest and best fans you could have ever asked for. Even during the worst time of your life, you’d had your parents support when changing careers. “Awe, let me be surprised like everyone else dear. Your cue is up….come on,” she gave you a big hug and kissed your cheek. “You’re going to be amazing, just like every other night” she beamed before walking out of your dressing room. 
You stared in the mirror, touching up your red lipstick before turning around and walking out. Your bejeweled bodysuit in the colors of your most favorite album you’d put out, pinks and blues. You smiled at the stage crew and everyone working behind the scenes as you walked with your assistant. “Another great sold out crowd out there, the VIP tent is dead center, lots of celebrities are here tonight too.” She smiled before you walked away standing on your mark. 
Listening to the entrance music you’d had custom made, caused the memories to flood your mind. 
You looked over at him grinning as you both reached for a piece of popcorn. “Soooo I thought you wanted to do something else when you asked me to come to your hotel room 10:30 at night.” you smirked as he laughed, throwing his head back. “While yes, I’d love to do that too….I figured it would be nice to watch a movie or two, enjoy a snack and relax together too. I ordered some wine and chocolate covered strawberries too.” he said leaning closer to you, as you bit your lip leaning into him, letting his lips brush yours. The next thing you knew, he had you pinned to the bed, popcorn littering the floor as he kissed down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt off and attacking your chest. 
“Ready? Have fun!!” Your assistant shouted over the music and screaming fans as the platform started to bring you up from under the stage. You plastered a grin on your lips and got in your stance with your mic. 
The moment your back up dancers pulled back the large fabric fans to reveal you, you began to sing one of your songs. The roar of screams, cheers and cries erupted throughout the entire stadium as you came into sight for everyone. The platform continued to rise as you sang, smiling at everyone. 
“It's you and me, that's my whole world
They whisper in the hallway, "She's a bad, bad girl"
Oh, I just thought you should know (you should know)
It's you and me, there's nothing like this (like this)
Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (okay)
We're so sad, we paint the town blue (paint it blue)
Voted most likely to run away with you.” 
The music ended as everyone cheered even louder and you laughed softly, the platform lowering back to the mainstage level; you grinned as the next song began instantly. You loved performing for a crowd, they never made you feel like you weren’t worth the love and attention. You strut toward the front of the stage, beginning to sing the bridge, along with the crowd, when a sight almost threw you off your performance. He stood there in the VIP tent with a cold beer in one hand, his other arm around the shoulders of a petite brunette. 
“I'm drunk in the back of the car
And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)
Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He looks up grinning like a devil” 
You belt out the bridge, the crowd screaming louder toward the end. You tried to not to look at the VIP tent, the urge to see him again, standing there happy with some other girl, you danced around, happily grinning at the crowd, encouraging them to sing along. You finally took a break, smiling wide as everyone clapped and cheered. “Hi!” you said cheerfully. “My name is Y/N and welcome to The Eras Tour,” you grinned as the stadium erupted again. 
“I just want to say thank you to everyone who is here tonight and I hope that I don’t disappoint. I usually perform only two surprise songs a night, however, I’m feeling…fun tonight, so I want to add another song to the list for you all. It’s one that I don't usually perform live. But, I hope you enjoy it.” you smiled as the platform rose and you looked around, the soft jazz music starting as loud cheers erupted. You couldn't stop the smile that landed on your face as you began to sing. 
“We were crazy to think
Crazy to think that this could work
Remember how I said I'd die for you?
We were stupid to jump
In the ocean separating us
Remember how I'd fly to you?
And I can't talk to you when you're like this
Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town
I'm New York City
I still do it for you, babe
They all warned us about times like this
They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith
Blind faith” 
You smiled looking around, your eyes landed on him again, he had a look in his eyes, just like how he used to look at you, hunger and desperation for your touch. You put your lips back up to the microphone and made eye contact with him again. 
“But we might just get away with it
Religion's in your lips
Even if it's a false god
We'd still worship
We might just get away with it
The altar is my hips
Even if it's a false god
We'd still worship this love
We'd still worship this love
We'd still worship this love
I know heaven's a thing
I go there when you touch me
Honey hell is when I fight with you” 
You didn’t mean to stare for so long, but the way he looked at you, watching your body move. You wanted to jump off stage and run into his arms again, kissing him, telling him how in love with him you still were, even after the three years that had passed. You felt a tightness in your chest when the girl turned and kissed his neck, and began to dance with him. 
You finished the song not soon after and took a small bow as everyone screamed out. You stood still smiling as the platform began to lower, before diving off to get changed. “I need a minute,” you said as your assistant came up to you. She looked slightly confused as they began to help you into your next outfit. How were you going to continue this concert with him staring at you? You didn’t think you could do it honestly. 
“I can’t believe you changed the set list, We’re going to have to cut one of the surprise songs.” You looked at her. “No we can’t but we are changing them tonight.” you said as they did up the back of your dress. “What?! Why!” she gasped. “Chris is here,” you said looking at her as her face fell. “With some girl.” she sighed putting a hand on her head “Jesus fucking Christ……okay. Tell me what you need.” you looked at her again as tears filled your eyes. “I need a fucking minute.” you grabbed the new mic rushing off.
235 notes · View notes
ramblingoak · 8 months
Note
How about "you're gonna get lipstick all over me"? Choose your papa 🥰
Love u!
I want nothing more than lipstick marks from Papa. Any Papa. But for you I chose Copia 💙
Tumblr media
Smudge
Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader (gender neutral reader, sfw, just Copia being silly, 700 words)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
“Well?  What do you think?”
You couldn’t shake the stupid grin on your face as you watched your Papa strut around in front of you.  He had dragged you out of your office an hour ago under the guise of needing help with tour prep, but it had quickly become obvious that all Copia really wanted to do was show off.  Even so you obediently had sat down on the couch in his office to watch him move around the room.  When he turned to look at you expectantly you couldn’t help but mess with him a little so you crossed your arms and scrunched your nose up.
“Hmm, I’m not sure.”  His mouth fell open and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at him.  “Don’t you already have one of these?”
“Si, si but not in this color.”
“You needed another one?” 
“D-dolcezza!”  You wondered if anyone would believe you that Papa sometimes stomped his foot like a child.  “This is for the fans.”
“What about the blue one, was that for the fans?”
“Si.”
“Hmm and the red?”
It was Copia’s turn to cross his arms as he glared at you while you stared at him from the couch.
“People had been asking for the red to come back for a while, dolcezza.”
“Oh, have they?  I hadn’t noticed.”  You hummed and tapped a finger on your chin as you watched him mutter to himself in Italian.  “So now you needed a, what, silver one?”
“Silver?”  Copia looked about ready to throw a fit, holding his arms out while he glared at you.  “You think this is silver?”
“Isn’t it?  Wait, hang on.”  He watched you warily as you hopped up to wander over.  Copia held still as you walked around him, running your fingers across his shoulders.  “Ok, I’m sorry Papa.  It’s not silver.”
“Si, grazie.  Silver wouldn’t be very exciting so that’s why I asked for a go–”
“Brown is kind of boring though, don’t you think Papa?”
“Brown?!”  He looked down at his jacket and back up to you a few times before finally growling and advancing on you.  “Why you little brat.”
You shrieked when he tried to grab you around your waist, quickly moving away from him and stumbling back towards the couch.  He caught you right before you fell onto it, his hands on your waist helping to ease you down.  Copia climbed up after you, straddling your legs and leaning forward to make his eyes level with yours.
“Do you enjoy riling up your Papa, dolcezza?”
“Yes actually, it’s a lot of fun.”  He snorted, shaking his head while he straightened up.  You let your eyes wander over him, admiring how handsome he looked in his Papal paint and his fancy jacket.  “The gold is very pretty.”
Copia smiled and grabbed your hand to place a kiss on the back, his lipstick leaving a smudge of black on your skin.  
“You really think so?  It’s not too much?”
It always broke your heart a bit when he sounded timid, like he was afraid of your answer.  As if you couldn’t possibly be hopelessly in love with his stupid handsome face.  Still, it wouldn’t stop you from messing with him.  Just a little bit.
“No Copia, I don’t think three sparkly jackets are too much.”  You laughed when he growled and leaned down to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek.  “It’s not too late to get another.  Maybe a pink one!”  He planted another kiss on you and you reached up to rub a hand over your skin.  “Ugh, you’re getting your lipstick all over my face!  I have to go back to work, you know.  Not all of us can spend the day playing dress up.”
“I’m Papa.  I can do what I want.”  When you raised an eyebrow at him he let out that dirty chuckle you loved so much.  “You should take the rest of the day off.”
“Oh?  And do what?”
His eyes darkened as he gently took your chin in his hand, rubbing a thumb across your lower lip.  
“How about we see where else I can leave lipstick marks, hmm?”
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
my masterlist
my ao3
355 notes · View notes
fluffypandabun · 1 year
Text
Braiding Giggles
AN: Ahhhh my first fic!! Ofc it had to be ROTTMNT, Ive have rottmnt brainrot for so long, especially about my boy Casey. I hope you guys enjoy!
Words:  2893
Summary:  After spending most of his life in the apocalypse with little access to baths, Casey's hair needs a lot of work. Luckily the hamato clan is more than eager to help their newest addition, along the way they discover something new about the future teen.
Casey let out a pained noise as the brush caught on a tangle in his hair, followed by a few more as he struggled to yank the brush out none to gently from his long tangled locks of jet black hair. 
Growing up in the apocalypse did not leave a lot of room for things such proper hair care, or even really bathing in general. And the last few days he had spent in his own timeline had been some of the most hectic days of his life, not to mention that he was tasked with saving this timeline's world as soon as he had arrived smack dab in the middle of it. So showering hasn't really been something that had crossed his mind at the time. 
But after the dust had settled, and the hamato clan had been given time to rest and properly treat their wounds, physically and maybe just a little emotionally, April had taken one good look at his greasy slicked back hair and had demanded he’d shower. 
And who was he to deny Commander O'neil when she gave him a direct order.
So now he found himself standing in front of a slightly cracked mirror, wearing a shirt and shorts that were both way too big on his skinny, and probably malnourished body. His hair, that he was used to being slicked back with either grease, sweat or sometimes blood, was now poofed out and looking soft and fluffy, falling just above his shoulders in wavy layers. 
And there was also now a hairbrush stuck in it. 
He let out a groan from the back of his throat, giving the brush one last good tug, which had him wincing and feeling sympathy for his already sore scalp, he let his arms drop to his side in defeat. 
He turned, leaving the lairs' makeshift washroom to return to the living room where the turtles and April sat, Splinter off somewhere in his room,napping. He stood in the doorway, not quite sure how to let himself be known when Raph suddenly turned to face his direction. 
He smiled and started to say something when he suddenly noticed the brush firmly tangled in the boys locks and he stopped, his expression shifted from confused, to amused, before stopping on fond. 
“Aw buddy.” He chuckled, “Having trouble with your hair?” 
His acknowledgement of the teen gained the attention of everyone, save for maybe Donnie who was hunched over his phone doing who knows what, he received the same fondly amused looks from April and Mikey, though Leo let out a loud snort, causing April to elbow him in the side and send him a glare. 
Casey felt his cheeks tint slightly pink and he shuffled on his feet, rubbing his hand up and down his arm. “I uh….” he stuttered, before clearing his throat. 
“I…can one of you maybe…help me with my hair…please..?” 
Raph smiled. “Of course we can buddy.” He said, at the same time Leo's face lit up and he immediately began to make grabby hands towards the human. 
“Oh oh!! Let me do your hair!” The mutant said excitedly, eyes alight in a way they hadn't been in awhile since the attack on new york.  
Casey blinked a few times in surprise. “I….” 
Ralph Rolled his eyes. “Ignore him Cass, Leos always had this weird obsession with hair.” 
“Yeah probably because he's bald.” Mikey added on giggling, which earned him a playful push from said turtle. 
“Excuse you, it's not an obsession it's an appreciation, plus April never lets me mess with her hair so i neeever get to show off my amazing hair skills!” The red eared slider huffed, crossing his arms across his chest as if this was the biggest offense he’d ever experienced in his life. But quickly his expression morphed back into a bright eyed grin as he reached out towards case again. 
“Come onnnn Cass my man, i’ll fix your hair up real nice, trust me!”
“Trusting you sounds like a horrible idea, Nardo.” Donnie said, finally choosing to join in on the conversation. Leo sent his twin a glare. 
“Don't listen to him Casey, I'm like, one of the most trustworthy people ever.” 
“I won't even waste my breath on giving all the reasons on why you are wrong on that one.”
Casey stood there in the doorway, watching the two turtles bicker back and forth, lips twitching. Growing up back….in his own timeline, he had the distant memory of his Sensei running his fingers through his hair, twisting it into little braids, or helping Casey pull it back into a ponytail to keep it out of his face during training. 
Master Leonardo had always enjoyed doing Casey's hair, so he guessed it shouldnt surprised him that this Leo would want to do it as well. 
Thinking about his sensei made his eyes burn, so he was quick to blink the wetness out of them. Clearing his throat as he spoke up. 
“Um…” He muttered, stopping the two turtles bickering. “I wouldn't mind if you did my hair.”
Leo turned to him and blinked, before he did his signature grin. “Awesome!” 
The turtle teen plopped himself down crossed legged on the couch, patting the spot in front of him eagerly. Casey smiled as he made his way over, sitting down in front of the turtle, albeit a bit awkwardly. He allowed himself to press his back against the couch and he only jumped a little when two three fingered hands came into his vision.  
“Alright.” Leo said, cracking his knuckles.” First we need to deal with this rat's nest and then we can really doll you up huh?” 
Casey gave a slight nod, tensing up when he felt Leo grab onto the brush still firmly stuck in his hair. 
“Be gentle Leo.” Came Raphs warning tone from Casey's right where he couldn't see him from his position on the floor. From above him Leo scoffed. 
“Relax big brother.” He hummed, though his tone had taken a more gentle tone. “I'll be careful.” 
And to his credit he was, or as gentle as he could be when brushing hair that was as tangled as Caseys. After a lot of yanking, cursing, and threats to simply cut it out, the brush had finally been removed from Casey's hair. Leo brandished it like it was a powerful weapon as he attacked Casey's raven locks. It still hurt, but it went a lot better then it would have if Casey had done it alone. 
Everytime the teen hissed in pain or let out a flinch, Leo would pause and apologize, before continuing even more carefully then before. After a bit his hair started to untangle, becoming softer and more fluffy the more Leo brushed. Pretty soon Casey was sure there weren't any tangles left in his hair, and that Leo was brushing it just for the sake of brushing it. 
Not that Casey was complaining, it felt….nice….really nice. And after going so long without any sort of close physical touch like this, no offense to his family from his  timeline, they did their best while raising him in the apocalypse, it's safe to say he pretty much melted. 
He barely registered the others talking above him, or the sound of a movie being put on. He simply allowed himself to tilt his head back and relax, at some point he was pretty sure that Leo had switched out the hairbrush for the sake of running his own fingers through the boy's locks.
He could feel himself almost falling asleep when suddenly one of Leo's fingers brushed gently against the shell of his ear. The sudden tingle of electricity was so unsuspected and unfamiliar that Casey found himself jumping and flinching forward away from whatever had caused that feeling. Looking back he found all the turtles and april, even Donnie, looking at him in bemused concern. 
Especially Leo, who had frozen with his hands mid air. 
Raph spoke up first. “Casey? You alright?”
“I didn't hurt you did I?” Leo asked, and though his voice was calm there was a hint of anxiousness behind it. Quickly Casey shook his head. 
“No! No no your fine, I'm fine, I just…” He bit his lip, hoping the others didn't notice the pink begging to form on his cheeks.
“It was….one of those like, feeling like your falling things, you know, like when you're about to fall asleep. Yeah..” 
Everyone seemed to relax a little bit, Mikey adding in a “I hate those” as they all turned back to watch the movie still playing on screen, Leo gave him a look. 
“Are you sure…?” 
Casey gave him a smile. “Yeah Leo its all good.” He turned back around and pressed his head into the turtle's hands. “You…you can keep going.”
The teen looked at him and then smirked, though there was a fondness to it, he said nothing as he continued with his mission of giving Casey head scratches. 
After a moment Casey found himself relaxing again, his eyes starting to droop as he felt himself begin to drift off….
Leo's fingers brushed against  both of his ears this time. 
This time, Casey let out a very loud and more importantly, very embarrassing squeak. Once again silence filled the room and all eyes were on him. 
“Okay.” April spoke up after a moment of silence. “Something is going on, what is up with you future boy?” 
“N-Nothing!” Casey spluttered, holding up his hands. “It's nothing really I promise-”
“Casey.” 
He froze, feeling a chill up his spine, because he did not like the sound of Leo's  voice. Carefully he turned around and oh he did not like the look of Leo's face either. 
The shit eating grin on the turtle's face said it all, that and the mischievous glint in his eyes. 
Casey swallowed, already able to feel his face getting warm “W..What..?”
The slider's grin grew even wider. “Caseyyyyyy!” 
“Whahat?” Casey grinned nervously, already frantically looking around for an exit of some sort. 
Confused, Raph glanced between the two of them. “I'm sorry, but am I missing something?” 
“Yeah.” Mikey spoke up, now fully facing him. “Why is Leo giving you the look?” 
Casey swallowed, showing off the gap in his teeth as he grinned nervously. “The uh..the look?”
Mikey nodded. “Yeah the look he gives someone usually before he…” the younger turtle trailed off as a look of realization passed over his face, immediately following it was an almost equally mischievous look making its way on the turtle's freckled face. 
“Ohhhh I see.” He giggled, making Casey flush even more.
Even more confused Raph groaned. “Okay can someone please tell me what i'm missing?” 
Leo grinned at him. “How bout I just show you instead~?” 
Caseys eyes went wide. “Wait-!” he squeaked, trying to scramble forward and out of the turtle's reach. But the ninja was too fast for him, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back against the couch. Whatever protests or pleas he might have had died on his lips and were instantly replaced by a stream of squeaky giggles as Leo gently hooked his fingers under the teens chin keeping him in place as he traces the outer shell of his ear. 
“Casey here's just ticklish, see?” Leo hummed, speaking over the humans giggling. He seemed to have no problem keeping him in place even as he kicked and squirmed frantically trying to grasp at the turtle's wrist. 
Raph blinked a few times before it clicked. “Ohhhhhh.” he grinned. 
“Yeah that makes sense.” 
Somewhere to his far right April cooed softly. “Awwww look at the future boy all giggly, he's so sweet.” 
“Humans can have ticklish ears!?” Mikey gasped, eyes alight, he quickly made to reach for April. “Are yours ticklish too April?” 
The human was quick to gently smack his hand away. “Nuh-uh, not happening.” 
Sitting on the ground Casey was in stitches, frantically jerking his body back as forth to try and dislodge Leos fingers, seeing as that wasn't working in the slightest he settled on scrunching up his shoulders to his ears in a desperate attempt to shield himself from leos attack. 
“Awww Cass look what you did, Now my fingers are stuck.” The turtle shrugged, a grin still plastered on his face. “Guess ill just have to keep tickling you here.” 
Casey, much to his horror, squealed, which earned him fond looks from both Raph and April, even Donnie sent him a look that could be called fond, at least by his standards. 
Mikey giggled alongside him. “Awww Cass! You're so giggly!”
Leo chuckled. “Yeah, how come you aren't like this all the time? Instead of being all sullen and sad lookin, you're worse than Donnie.”
“I'm choosing to ignore that comment.” 
Casey squeezed his eyes shut and frantically shook his head, laughing harder when Leo moved to gently tracing along his jawline. Tracing a small scar that seemed to be a lot more sensitive than the rest of the surrounding area.  
It had been….a very long time since Casey had laughed like this, since Casey had..felt like this. Felt safe enough to let himself go and relax, to show such vulnerability to a group of people. The last people he’d let see him like this….
Casey chose to pretend the tears welling up in his eyes were just from how hard he was laughing. He simply tilted his head back and grasped onto Leo's wrists, body shaking with laughter as he cracked an eye open to look up at Leo. 
The slider was looking down at him with such fondness it nearly took Casey's breath away, he looked at him the same way he looked at Mikey whenever the younger turtle would manage to draw a straight line without his damaged hands shaking and messing him up. 
Casey felt his already pink cheeks turning an even darker shade as red as he was quick to look away from the turtle's gaze, ignoring the own warmth he felt in his chest. 
Raph, his savior, finally spoke up. Sounding just as fond as Leo had looked.
“Arlight Leo, don't overwhelm him, you know he probably isn't used to this sort of thing.”
Leo scoffed. “Overwhelm him? Pshh the kid loves it, don't you?” The turtle dug his fingers gently into the underside of Casey's chin causing him to snort. 
“Leo.” Raph said, using his ‘big brother voice’, Leo sighed.dramtically. 
“Alright alright, fine I’ll give the kid a break.” Finally, after a few more pokes, the turtle's fingers slowed to a stop as he released his hold on the teen. Though he kept both his hands resting gently on the boy's shoulder. 
Casey gasped softly for air, leaning his head back against Leo's legs as he hiccuped. Rubbing his face with his hands, he groaned. 
Amused, Mikey patted him on the head, “Aww, don't be embarrassed Cass, everyones a little ticklish. Plus you have a really cute laugh!”
Casey let out another much more exaggerated groan, Raph chuckled. 
“I don't think you're helping him much here Mikey.” The larger turtle said, patting the box turtle on the head, before he turned to look at Casey. 
“He's right though, no need to be embarrassed.” 
“Yeah.” April snorted. “You might as well get used to it, especially now that you're a part of this family.” 
“Unfortunately..” Donnie deadpanned under his breath, earning him a playful prod in the side from April. 
“Awww come on D, you know you love it. “
“A hisssss!!” 
Casey allowed himself to peek out from his fingers, face still pink, he allowed a slight smile to make its way onto his face. 
“I suppose so…” He muttered, Leo sent him a grin, clasping his hands together. 
“Right! So that adorable discovery aside-”
“Its not adorable-”
“Hush. Anyways, Now we can work on actually styling your hair for real, all that squirming you did messed up all my work, but since I'm so kind and caring I'm willing to start back from scratch. “ 
Casey saw the turtle reach from him out of the corner of the eye and he gave a little flinch, Leo froze for a second before he grinned. 
“Don't worry Cass, I promise I won't tickle you again….for now..” 
Casey narrowed his eyes at the slider, especially for that last part, before he sighed. He let himself relax, leaning against Leo's legs once again. 
True to his word, Leo stuck to his promise. He ran his fingers through the teens fluffy hair and began the process of separating it to turn it into a braid. The motions brought a sort of bittersweet nostalgia to Casey's mind as he smiled softly, once again relaxing into the gentle touch. 
He listened, half asleep, as the others spoke above him. Leo and Donnie bickering while Mikey hushed them because he was trying to watch the movie, with April threatening to put them all in the get along shirt, whatever that was. 
Casey felt himself begin to slip off to sleep for real this time, a small smile on his lips. April's earlier words echoing in his head as he finally drifted off. 
“Now that you're a part of this family.” 
Yeah, he could get used to this.
182 notes · View notes
ltsmoving · 6 months
Text
Voretober 14: Fans
not able to draw rn but this prompt is making me think of a certain freak of mine giggles. seren is a character ive never mentioned here before, but if im feeling brave, he might return.
"Aren't you excited?" Seren couldn't keep still in his seat as he spoke, hands tight on the wheel, keeping him braced as much as possible. "This is our biggest show yet! We're actually getting somewhere now- we'll be taking the top hits soon, Max, just you wait."
Max nodded along, trying his best to listen past the anxieties screaming in his ears, and past the discomfort of being packed into the backseat of a car half his height. Seren was right, this would be their largest crowd they had ever performed for- with at least a hundred people at the venue, they were guaranteed to stick in someone's head. But one hundred people is a lot, and he held his breath picturing his voice cracking or forgetting lines on stage.
"Hey, it's okay if you're worried, you know. You'll be great out there." His striking blue eyes flicked between the road and the rear mirror, looking at Max with a sugary sympathy. It calmed his nerves, but he couldn't help the gnawing fears that always overcame him before he first got on stage.
Before he really knew it, they were at the venue: a club near their old university campus, a few people they recognised from their time there in the crowd.
They made their way to the backstage area, Seren and Max hanging up their denim jacket and hoodie respectively, revealing their black button-downs and neck ties in blue and red. The pair practiced the parts of their songs they were going to struggle with the most, whether for Seren having to play a difficult melody, or Max singing a particularly quick and eclectic line. Getting up to wait in the wings, they listened in to the guy before them and prepared to go up themselves.
When it was finally their turn, Max was at least happy to find out that most people were milling about the bar, or talking over a drink than staring into his eyes, awaiting a perfect performance. By the time they were done, they weren't being booed off stage, so they must have done something right, even if they were off key at points or encountered some mic issues before hand.
Most surprising was that when they had come to the end of their set, a lone crowd member had wandered up to the stage as Seren was packing his guitar back into its case.
"You guys were great!" she said, speaking with bright eyes and excitement. "Substandard, was it?"
"That's us," Seren responded, holding back his joy that someone had been so enthralled by their music to come up and talk to them personally.
She nodded and smiled, turning to Max. "Can I make a request?"
"Sorry, our set is over, we've gotta let the next band up." Max gave the woman a polite smile, but she simply persisted, waving her hand and ushering the singer to kneel down so she could whisper into his ear.
At first, a coy smile adorned his face, before it morphed into a confused shocked expression. His first instinct was to look at Seren, as if asking for some silent permission for an unheard request. Despite this, he quietly responded, face slightly pink. Seren felt a twinge of jealousy, having this conversation kept private from him.
He had assumed the woman had asked for something like an autograph or a photo, the last thing he expected was to see his best friend with a mouthful of fangirl.
The crowd of conversations slowed to a dead stop as people took notice of the scene taking place on the stage. Everyone's eyes following the movements of the girl's torso being pulled into his gullet before her legs slipped down his throat- a voyeuristic spectacle of morbid fascination as her form disappeared, and Max's fuzzy gut was exposed.
Once she was down, Max panted, trying to heave himself and his newfound weight off of the stage before he noticed the ocean of eyes drinking in such a curious moment, Seren included. Some people turned to muttering, others cringed in disgust, others were whistling, whooping, even cheering at the display, and Max couldn't tell if he wanted to bathe in the response for a while longer or disappear into the earth and wallow in embarrassment.
Seren decided for him, dragging him by the arm off the stage as the band after them cautiously stepped up, clearly shaky to follow up the killer finish Substandard had brought. Out the back of the building, Seren left Max to struggle with the weight of another person as he fetched their car, and Max was alone with his thoughts and hundreds of pounds of human meat wriggling inside of him.
A stray hand palmed the surface, and he nearly fell over as his prey resisted the touch- must have been her face, then? He tried again to apply some pressure to his distended skin, and when he was met by no fight, he felt great, but he felt disgusted by himself to admit that. He was painfully full, and about to commit a homicide! Even still, he couldn't keep his hands off the mound of flesh on flesh.
The headlights of the car pulled him back to reality, and he hobbled his way to the backseat once again, this time having to lie down over the whole thing- there was no way he was fitting himself upright in that tiny space while sharing it with his meal.
The drive was accompanied by scared, angry, and confused rambling from Seren, but Max still couldn't find himself comprehending a single word, lost in the ecstasy of his wriggling meal, and thoughts screaming in his ears about how many more future fans might also want to be eaten. He definitely had a new diet to get used to.
Tumblr media
26 notes · View notes
redwolf17 · 1 year
Text
Some Jaime Lannister Moments I Wish Fandom Remembered
Look, Jaime’s POVs are some of GRRM’s best. He has some great moments of bravery and kindness, and the reveal of why he killed Aerys tilts the reader’s and in-universe characters’ assumptions on their head.
However, there’s a bad habit of making fanon!Jaime a lot better person than canon!Jaime, ignoring his faults and dialing up his virtues, sometimes blaming all his sins on Cersei, as if he never makes choices of his own. Which… loses a lot of the nuance and contradictions that make Jaime such a fascinating character.
So, I’d like to lay out a few key canon quotes
AGOT, Tyrion I
Jaime Lannister regarded his brother thoughtfully with those cool green eyes. "Stark will never consent to leave Winterfell with his son lingering in the shadow of death."
"He will if Robert commands it," Tyrion said. "And Robert will command it. There is nothing Lord Eddard can do for the boy in any case."
"He could end his torment," Jaime said. "I would, if it were my son. It would be a mercy."
ASOS, Jaime I
"A man who would violate his own sister, murder his king, and fling an innocent child to his death deserves no other name."
Innocent? The wretched boy was spying on us.
ASOS, Jaime VII
He was curiously calm. Men were supposed to go mad with grief when their children died, he knew. They were supposed to tear their hair out by the roots, to curse the gods and swear red vengeance. So why was it that he felt so little? The boy lived and died believing Robert Baratheon his sire.
Jaime had seen him born, that was true, though more for Cersei than the child. But he had never held him. "How would it look?" his sister warned him when the women finally left them. "Bad enough Joff looks like you without you mooning over him." Jaime yielded with hardly a fight. The boy had been a squalling pink thing who demanded too much of Cersei's time, Cersei's love, and Cersei's breasts. Robert was welcome to him.
And now he's dead. He pictured Joff lying still and cold with a face black from poison, and still felt nothing. Perhaps he was the monster they claimed. If the Father Above came down to offer him back his son or his hand, Jaime knew which he would choose. He had a second son, after all, and seed enough for many more.
ASOS, Jaime IX
"You say Sansa killed him. Why protect her?"
Because Joff was no more to me than a squirt of seed in Cersei's cunt. And because he deserved to die. "I have made kings and unmade them. Sansa Stark is my last chance for honor." Jaime smiled thinly. "Besides, kingslayers should band together. Are you ever going to go?"
AFFC, Jaime IV
"Do you see that window, ser?" Jaime used a sword to point. "That was Raymun Darry's bedchamber. Where King Robert slept, on our return from Winterfell. Ned Stark's daughter had run off after her wolf savaged Joff, you'll recall. My sister wanted the girl to lose a hand. The old penalty, for striking one of the blood royal. Robert told her she was cruel and mad. They fought for half the night . . . well, Cersei fought, and Robert drank. Past midnight, the queen summoned me inside. The king was passed out snoring on the Myrish carpet. I asked my sister if she wanted me to carry him to bed. She told me I should carry her to bed, and shrugged out of her robe. I took her on Raymun Darry's bed after stepping over Robert. If His Grace had woken I would have killed him there and then. He would not have been the first king to die upon my sword . . . but you know that story, don't you?" He slashed at a tree branch, shearing it in half. "As I was fucking her, Cersei cried, 'I want.' I thought that she meant me, but it was the Stark girl that she wanted, maimed or dead." The things I do for love. "It was only by chance that Stark's own men found the girl before me. If I had come on her first . . ."
AFFC, Jaime V
Genna Lannister had been a shapely woman in her youth, always threatening to overflow her bodice. Now the only shape she had was square. Her face was broad and smooth, her neck a thick pink pillar, her bosom enormous. She carried enough flesh to make two of her husband. Jaime hugged her dutifully and waited for her to pinch his ear. She had been pinching his ear for as long as he could remember, but today she forbore. Instead, she planted soft and sloppy kisses on his cheeks. "I am sorry for your loss."
"I had a new hand made, of gold." He showed her.
"Very nice. Will they make you a gold father too?" Lady Genna's voice was sharp. "Tywin was the loss I meant."
AFFC, Jaime VI
Must you make me say the words? Pia was standing by the flap of the tent with her arms full of clothes. His squires were listening as well, and the singer. Let them hear, Jaime thought. Let the world hear. It makes no matter. He forced himself to smile, "You've seen our numbers, Edmure. You've seen the ladders, the towers, the trebuchets, the rams. If I speak the command, my coz will bridge your moat and break your gate. Hundreds will die, most of them your own. Your former bannermen will make up the first wave of attackers, so you'll start your day by killing the fathers and brothers of men who died for you at the Twins. The second wave will be Freys, I have no lack of those. My westermen will follow when your archers are short of arrows and your knights so weary they can hardly lift their blades. When the castle falls, all those inside will be put to the sword. Your herds will be butchered, your godswood will be felled, your keeps and towers will burn. I'll pull your walls down, and divert the Tumblestone over the ruins. By the time I'm done no man will ever know that a castle once stood here." Jaime got to his feet. "Your wife may whelp before that. You'll want your child, I expect. I'll send him to you when he's born. With a trebuchet."
87 notes · View notes
hanasnx · 6 months
Text
"scuffling."
Tumblr media
MINORS DNI 18+
WC: 0.8k | CHARACTERS: carmy berzatto x gn!reader NOTES: for @mcondance i do not write for carmy, pls do not talk to me about him. i just felt generous enough for a gift and ive seen the first season of the bear and a bit of the second. WARNINGS: sexual content | severe impact play | violence | not proofread | not 100% confident on carmy's characterization | no y/n
Tumblr media
CARMY BERZATTO knows he's got a lot of shit going on in his head. Too much to keep track of, stray thoughts that can't be pinned down. When he's overwhelmed, everything's heightened. Like an attack dog, a ringing in his ears calls him back to his trainer. Except he's got no trainer, he's got no one. He's got him. It's not that that ringing makes him aggressive, it's not a Pavlov, that ringing reminds him of how he gets when he's angry. Exasperation layering over itself, building the tsunami. He's been told he's a dick, that he's a real asshole when he gets like this. But no one else is inside his head.
Not like you, anyway. You're about as close as they come, and you don't even know it. He doesn't know how you do it. You absorb that wrath— and you may come out swinging— but you never leave the kitchen. Miraculously, you don't quit. Even when he thinks you should. Even after he's thrown your experimental crème fraîche onto the floor. You hounded after him, but you still got your ass back to work.
"Are you sure about this?" he asks, one more time. Just to be sure. Even though he's boiling over, arms pulsing as he forms fists and shakes them out.
You don't give him an answer. Behind the Beef it's dark out, but you've waited all day to give him a piece of your mind. Well, a piece of you at least. The entire power of your body is put behind a punch, but he jerks out of the way. The knuckle of your thumb grazes the skin of his cheek, and now he's in your space. Rough hands shove at your chest, slamming your back into the concrete wall. The bones of your spine rattle against it, and you reorient too late. He grabs your shoulders, bringing you in to connect his knee to your stomach. You double over, clutching it.
Through strain, you manage a chuffed, "Fuck you, Carmy,"
"Fuck me? Fuck me? C'mon," That roar in his ears is unbearable, driving his actions, taunting you with beckoning hands. In his distraction, you throw another punch that he, again, dodges. "Haven't learned—" His own grunt interrupts him as the point of your elbow sling-shots into the back of his head. Falling forward, his eyes squeeze shut, but he runs into you. So his arms wrap around your torso as he goes down, his shoulder sinking into your chest as you land underneath him on the ground. It's cold, it's hard. Your head aches.
He picks himself up, straddling you. Adrenaline imbued within your beings, blood rushing to fill out everything. Every vein itching to be stretched and used. You weakly claw at him that, for the most part, he redirects by slapping your wrists away. When you get a hold of the straps of his apron, you yank him down, and he catches himself over you. The heels of his hands dig into grovel, scratching up his skin. In a last ditch effort, you jerk your head up, forehead-to-forehead, both of you suffer after impact. A joint groan of pain sounds between the two of you, and in his haze you roll him over. You see red, pressing your lips into a thin line, blowing hot air through flared nostrils. A pink mark blooms on his skin where your heads connected, and your fists bang against his chest.
It becomes a game of rolling around in the fucking dirt and grime, filthying yourselves in the scuffle. Until in between hitting each other, you're tearing at clothes. Prying open buckles and buttons. Fingers brace onto your hips, restricting your movements, burning you from his grip as you take it upon yourself to mount him. In the middle of this fucking alley, you're sinking down onto his cock. And when he tells you to quit fucking around, you grace him with a resounding slap.
His large hand plants on your face, shoving you backwards unceremoniously. "Watch it!" he tells you. His teeth bite into the skin past his lower lip as he throws his head back.
"Shut the fuck up." you chide, resuming the rhythm of your hips. Acting like you fucking needed this as you double over, fisting his shirt for purchase, winding your fingers in it tight as you ride him. He palms your tailbone, slamming you down deep onto him.
"I should fucking kill you—" Your hand claps against his mouth to quiet him.
"I don't wanna fucking hear your voice right now, just take it."
Tumblr media
51 notes · View notes
petitsdieu · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
FIVE SONGS for your muse.
I have a semi-recent (seven) song list from another tagged meme thing here.
Tumblr media
FIVE QUOTES for your muse.
((I don't have source material like movie or book quotes but I do have amazing writing partners (current or not ) that treat my muse like a canon and give me the most lovely written excerpts that could have been ripped right out of a book. If I searched more, I could have probably found more. But here are some of my favs. God bless you all.))
i.     (See the lamb’s flush betide her face; a bruise of muffled wanting.) (Behind Hara’s ear, hidden in her crown, is a softness kin to lambswool. She would hide it — bury it under garb and seam.) — written by @nightmarefuele
ii.   ( i hate how fuckin stubborn you are. it’s 5 am and i cant sleep and i’ll probably never send this but...) (...i think it’s because you’re scared. you’re fucking scared of someone knowing you so you go for the ones who just see you as a play thing and don’t want to know you and then you sit there with your fuck me eyes and act like none of us can see straight through your act. well i see you, hara ora, bright as fuckin day. you don’t fool me) — written by @drugstoreglitter
iii.     She was the damn antithesis of everything that he was: gentle, soft, good, perfect—he ought to have some guilt for wanting her this way, for knowing he was taking something far too fucking virtuous for a being such a malicious son of a bitch.  But he doesn’t care. That’s the problem. He wants her. Selfishly, without regret, and with absolute no remorse. It should be a blaring red alarm for her to be signaled to stay the hell away from him. Whether she’s naive, or hopeful, or misguided on who he is… he cannot bring himself to care. She accepts him. And for that, he would devour her.  — written by @godstrayed
iv.     "You’ve never been so lost, Hara. Have you? Ah, but you have. Only now you feel its full brunt, that it spreads over your mouth like the weeds — and in so suffocating, you turn to an inexplicable oppressor. To me. You’re not sure which I am: vulgar, or obscure. And that beguiles you. Revives you. You’ve been dead, ogled inside an old king’s birdcage, for so long…" — written by @nightmarefuele
v.   ...because it’s the energy she gives off, isn’t it, that, fuck me on speed kawaii angelic something that makes her head go all fucking spun, and yeah maybe hara’s less pastel pink and neon orange, but her existence looks streaked in glitter and glory and temporary flings and love and the way that something quick and easy can leave you feeling as if you were choking on the aftereffects of it, oh - it’s a hell of a lot, isn’t it. — written by @redemptioninterlude
vi.   Wants to feel his hands all over her ; wants to find salvation in the sweet flavour of her sugared lips . Would pull the wings off angels just to pull moans from the depths of her core . Almost forgot how pleasantly overwhelming it is to make love to her. — written by an old rp partner that's no longer around / blog gone.
vii.   Hara was obsessed with the idea of closing doors, of protecting what little she had of herself, for herself. And that was all fine and charming when you were on the outside, clamouring for an idea, a taste, of just what made that magic woman come to life. But in the reality, it was mud and sticks and stones that bore her, and inside, she sensed a deep emptiness… the way that she pushed people away, and howled at the proverbial moon, all the messages that she’d ever need to know just how fucked up she was. — written by @redemptioninterlude
viii.   One, two … four. He counts drops as they wet Hara’s skin. Shimmering, like honey. Five. Would they taste like the buttery warmth of her lotion? He might run his tongue along the lattice of her veins. Lace himself inside her salt and skin. — written by @nightmarefuele
Tumblr media
tagged by: the ever talented @corruptedforce tagging: @nightmarefuele @redemptioninterlude @v1ctimplagued @ofdrivensnow @fawnworked @everyoneismytoy @cava1ier @cnlyluck @luckhissoul @bakerscars @triicksters @unwaivering + ANYONE AND EVERYONE THIS IS A GOOD GOOD ONE. <3
11 notes · View notes
honeyynymphh · 1 year
Text
| A Discordant Melody |
Cardinal Copia x FemReader, Papa IV x FemReader rating: E word count: 9k chapter: 1 of 2 warnings/tags: dub con, gaslighting, possession, emotional manipulation, dark papa iv, cardinal copia and papa iv are two separate characters, 19th century, gothic
“Maybe this place is cursed.” I wrapped an arm around Copia’s and pressed myself close, delighting in his warmth and the way he smelled. It reassured me and I pressed my lips against his cheek. “You will have to keep me very close, darling, lest some ghoul tries to steal me away.”
I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips and I smiled when I noticed the tips of his ears had gone pink. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad—and it wasn’t as if we were staying here.
Inheriting an old abbey in a supposedly cursed town, what could possibly go wrong?
read on AO3
Tumblr media
This is based on the 1963 film The Haunted Palace - the majority of the dialogue is taken from the film and edited to suit my silly little imagination!
A Discordant Melody And travellers, now, within that valley,  Through the red-litten windows see  Vast forms that move fantastically  To a discordant melody;  While, like a ghastly rapid river,  Through the pale door  A hideous throng rush out forever,  And laugh—but smile no more. - Edgar Allan Poe “The Haunted Palace”
The coach ride was long and uncomfortable, as they so often were. The smell of cheap leather seats and the moth-eaten curtains festered in my nose making me feel sick. Even calling what I rode on a coach was being kind. We had changed our coach at the last major inn, swapping the elegant barouche for this dingy matchbox and its tired horses. 
Inside, I sat, my eyes heavy as I tried to stay awake—I knew we were close. The skirts of my silk dress flowed everywhere and had encroached over Copia, my husband, and swallowed his legs. The seafoam ruffles peeking out of the hem made him look like a lighthouse surrounded by a stormy, and very frilly, ocean. The closer we had gotten to the town of Aspera, the quieter he’d become. I knew he was excited at the prospect of seeing this ancestral home he had suddenly inherited, but I could tell he was nervous; his gloved fingers fidgeting absentmindedly with the hem of my dress were the only movements he made.
It wasn’t often that we left the city. I did not travel well and I was always loath to leave my family and our friends. But I knew this was important to him—for he had never known his family. And I, with my hovering mother and numerous siblings, had known nothing but the joyous bustle of love and affection, along with the contentment of knowing where I had come from and what my family had been. Something that I had never given much thought to until I had met Copia Cardinale. Shunned by those who thought they were better than him merely because his family line was not found in some musty book. That was until they realised he had a lot of money and suddenly they hovered around him like bees, desperate for what he could offer them. But their judging looks and those whispered comments always stung.
Even my family had been reluctant at our marriage—he was so much older than I and with no connections. Then there was also his left eye. Blind and milky white in appearance. But it did not sway me. And I would now not let something like an uncomfortable coach ride stop me from being by his side.
His gaze was fixed on the view out of the murky window and I shifted in my seat, leather creaking and skirts rustling to peer outside too. The coachman had said the town of Aspera was cursed which is why we found ourselves in such a rundown vehicle. A ridiculous statement to make, I thought. But as I peered through the dirty window I had to admit that it certainly looked cursed. The town was empty save for a low fog that clung low to the wheels of the coach. Nobody roamed the lamp-lit streets despite it only being early evening and the windows with their flickering lights felt like a multitude of eerie eyes that watched us as the coach ambled past. At home, the streets were always busy—and at a time like this, the streets would have hummed with those venturing out for the evening. Even the small lodgings we had stayed in on our journey here had been filled with raucous noise and drunken cheer. It had been not to my taste, but it at least had been welcoming. 
Finally, I felt the coach jolt to a stop. Copia jumped out, his gloved hand then reaching for mine to help me spill out of the coach. I could smell the tang of salt as the cool air hit my face. It felt like heaven after hours trapped in that coach. The coachman muttered something about going no further and then hurriedly passed my husband our bags. I took in the street as the coach left us, the sound of hoofs clattering along the cobbles until there was nothing but the wind and the creak of the tavern sign above us. I stared up at it and read the sign as it swayed.
“‘The Burning Man,’” I read. “How quaint!”
“Mmm.” Copia took our bags and moved towards the entrance to the tavern.
“Where else would you find a tavern with a name like that?” I said with a laugh.
My laughter faltered as we stepped inside. We had finally found some life in this still town—though I had had to admit ‘life’ was perhaps too generous. They were mostly men and they all huddled around scrubbed wooden tables as they stared into their beers—as if the weak ale held all the secrets of the world. Their heads snapped to us as we entered, their eyes just staring blankly.
“Good evening,” my husband said, walking up to the barman.
The barman bristled, the dirty rag he held in one hand only smearing the dirt on the glass he was attempting to clean. His thick brow furrowed as we approached.
“I was hoping someone could assist,” Copia said pleasantly. “I am looking for the Aspera Abbey.”
A man who was sitting at the bar stood in a flash, his pale face coming close. I could smell the heavy and dank scent of stale beer on him and I covered my mouth as inconspicuously as I could with a gloved hand. 
“What do you want with that old hellhole?” the man said angrily.
Copia took a step back and I held onto his arm. We had been here a mere five minutes and already I wanted to get back in that cramped coach and go back home.
“It’s mine,” said Copia, stunned by the man’s angry response. “Well, er, it is now. I inherited it.” He waved his free hand lazily, and I knew he was trying to make light of the situation. “It was my father’s father’s father’s father’s father’s father’s—“
“You’re an Emeritus?” Another man had come forward from the bar. He was small and his watery eyes looked up at Copia with such frightened defiance it was almost comical—though I didn’t dare laugh.
“Eh?” said Copia, his brow knitting in confusion.
“Emeritus,” repeated the small man. “It was their devil palace!”
“Oh, no,” said Copia slowly, his moustache quirking as he tried to smile in the face of the man's hostility. “I’m a Cardinale—“ He gestured to me. “And this is my wife. What do you mean palace, I was told it’s an abbey…an old castle?”
The man laughed, though there was no humour in it. “There is no god in that place. It was brought over stone by stone and they carved it into the rock. Nothing ever grows there. Rotten.” “Brought over from where?” I asked. 
I was intrigued. A palace? How exciting! Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a dull trip after all. “Italy somewhere,” grunted the man. “No one knows exactly where. Nobody wants to know. If you value your lives you won’t go there.”
I was stunned, I never expected such asperity from the townspeople and nor had I ever experienced such open hostility before.
“Exactly,” agreed the barman. “Geoffrey is right. You best get back to wherever it was you came from. That place is cursed. Full of devil worship and demons.”
“It’s just a house,” I said. If anyone had spoken like this back they would have been laughed at, at best, and at worst, thrown into an asylum.
“Ay, well you best listen to me, Mrs Cardinale.” The barman threw his dirty rag on the bar and glared at us. “You couldn’t pay me with all the Queen’s jewels to go anywhere near that place.”
I would have laughed if they hadn’t been so serious. It frightened me—not their silly words, I didn’t believe in demons and witches. But they did. Men and their convictions were not to be trifled with.
“We’ve come all this way,” I said.
“Well then, you best start now if it’s a long journey back.” The man grabbed an empty glass and filled it with beer before he pushed it down the bar towards one of the men seated. “Don’t let us keep you.”
“And what do you recommend I do with the deed?” said Copia to the barman, his voice tinged with irritation. “Tear it up and throw it in the sea?”
“Yes.” The man was serious.
“Tear up the deed to an ancient abbey that I’ve inherited?” I could tell Copia was stunned by the ludicrous suggestion. “Just tear it up without so much as looking at it?”
“Yes.”
That was the end of the conversation, it seemed. We stood there, a little stunned before Copia took my arm and started to lead me out of the tavern.
“Come on, my dear,” he said to me softly. “We will find it ourselves.”
We had pushed open the door when another man called out, following us onto the street.
“Mr Cardinale—!”
Unlike the others, this man was well dressed, his grey beard trimmed neatly. While his brown skin was well-aged, he was missing that tired, defeated look the other men had. He gave us both a polite smile as he joined us on the quiet street.
“The abbey isn’t far from here,” he said, pointing in the distance. “See? You can’t miss it.”
Indeed you couldn’t. Over the many thatched roofs, the town began to slope up and the road wound until it turned into what looked like a dense forest— or what would be a dense forest if the trees bore any vegetation. It turned into a sharp cliff and sitting atop was a monstrous-looking building. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, it seemed to blend into the heavy, dark clouds in the night sky.
“If you just follow the road you can walk there with ease,” said the man.
“Thank you, Mr…?” said Copia, shaking his hand.
“Saltarian,” replied the man. “Doctor Saltarian. If you need anything, do let me know. And forgive the villagers. They can be a little funny about newcomers.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Doctor,” Copia replied. “But we won’t be staying long.”
We bid the doctor goodnight then, Copia carrying our bags as we made our way towards the abbey.
“What do you mean we won’t be staying long?” I asked.
Copia turned to look at me as we walked. “Do you want to stay in this town full of fools?”
I shook my head. No, I did not. I would have asked to leave straight away. I felt unsettled but I tried to dismiss it. This wasn’t the city, things were different out here. And perhaps a tavern was not the most indicative of village life—maybe there was a town hall where the women gathered and did flower arranging and needlework. And maybe the local school filled the town with the sound of children laughing during the day. An alehouse was not the place to base all my assumptions upon. Besides, we weren’t to live here so it did not bother me much.
“That Doctor Saltarian didn’t seem like a fool,” I said.
“All right, one of them isn’t a fool,” agreed Copia. “But I think it best we leave as soon as we’ve looked at the place.”
We walked for what felt like an eternity, the road up to the abbey was nothing more than a roughly worn dirt track lined with its twisted and barren trees. It was not far, as the doctor had said, but I was tired and my body ached from the journey. The trip had taken us days, and those nights spent in inns with lumpy beds and neverending noise had me longing for the comfort of quiet.
As we came closer, I could hear the roar of the sea from the other side of the cliff. The tang of salt was much stronger in the air and the wind stung my face. It was freezing here. I wrapped my long cloak around me tighter, trying to keep up with Copia’s long stride.
Finally, we reached Aspera Abbey. Hewn from the rock, the castle jutted out like a monolithic beast. It was crudely carved, the stone beaten by the elements so that it blended seamlessly into the rock. Immediately I felt a sense of disappointment. I had pictured some grand building—a place that sat at the heart of the town. A place that was celebrated and brought the village together. But it was clear this town was not going to be anything like how I had imagined. An abbey should have been light and full of grace, not decorated with demonic gargoyles that glared down upon us as we approached. I couldn’t help but stare up at them, causing me to nearly collide with Copia as he came to a stop before the large wooden door.
In the distance, I could hear the sea slamming against the cliff, but there was also something else. For a moment I swore I could hear music—the strained sound of a harpsichord—coming from the other side of the large door. It stopped as soon as I tried to focus on it and I pushed it from my mind. It had been such a long journey and I didn’t wish Copia to feel discouraged; I was determined to do my best to appear optimistic.
Copia finally unlocked the large padlock over the door and pushed it open. The wood was swollen from the weather and it creaked loudly as it swung on rusted hinges. Slowly we entered, it was musty and dark inside, though it did not stop me from noticing the massive cobwebs and layers of dust that decorated the entrance hall like snowfall.
“Maybe this place is cursed.” I wrapped an arm around Copia’s and pressed myself close, delighting in his warmth and the way he smelled. It reassured me and I pressed my lips against his cheek. “You will have to keep me very close, darling, lest some ghoul tries to steal me away.”
I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips and I smiled when I noticed the tips of his ears had gone pink. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad—and it wasn’t as if we were staying here.
“Heh,” he coughed and patted my hand. He placed our bags down and gestured to the large hall we were standing in. “Let’s have a look around.”
Copia wandered off but I stood there. For a moment I simply stared. Many of the walls held paintings and there were a few statues—mostly lewd—that dotted the dusty hall but this painting was something else. It rested in a large gilded frame and hung over a huge fireplace. It gleamed—as if it had been recently cleaned. It depicted a man. His clothing was embroidered in glittering gold and sapphire blues. It looked like the robes worn by a saint. But there was nothing saintly about him. The skull paint on his face was startling—I imagined that death looked like this man. How easy it would be in those last moments of life to want to take his hand and follow him to the nether regions of some abhorrent yet intoxicating plane of existence. There was something frightening yet alluring about it.
But that hadn’t been what stole my breath. He looked just like Copia.
“He looks just like you, darling!” I said.
“Hmm?” I heard him come stand next to me. 
“I thought this place would be full of old bibles and very boring paintings of nuns!” I said as I peered up at it, and then I walked closer until I could read the small gilded plaque at the bottom of the frame. “‘Papa Emeritus the Fourth’ it says. How fantastic!”
I turned to look at him with a smile on my face but it faded away instantly. Copia looked strange.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No…” he dragged his eyes away and pointed to the large stone steps. “This way, there’s nothing else down here except the kitchens.”
I quirked a brow at him. “How would you know?”
Copia shrugged. “Just a guess.”
I followed him up the stone stairs until we came to a landing, he walked with purpose as if he knew where he was going. When he stopped outside a door—a door that looked no different to any others we had passed—he pushed it open.
The door didn’t creak, which surprised me, and the room was somewhat clean. It was clear this had to be the master suite of the old castle. Though, I thought it strange that an abbey would be so lavishly decorated. I told myself maybe it hadn’t been used as a place of worship in years—just like many of the abbeys back home. I watched as Copia moved past the large gothic bed and went towards the balcony doors, so he could pull the heavy drapes aside. The sky was blanketed by grey clouds and the moon struggled to shine, as though it were reluctant to illuminate this unwanted hunk of stone. It was enough to cut through the shadows so that I could make out another door in the distance—what I only assumed led to a washroom—and realise that the ornate pattern in the old rug in the centre of the room was a deep blue; the same pattern that decorated the portrait down below.
I turned, determined to poke around, and nearly screamed. An old woman stood there. Her pale face stared at me pleasantly. She was dressed in severe black, her blonde hair drawn tightly back from her face so that I could nearly make out the outline of her skull. I shivered.
“Ah, good evening,” she said in an even tone. “Who the devil are you?” said Copia, coming to stand next to me, his hand on my shoulder.
“Imperator, the…housekeeper,” said the woman. “Caretaker. I’ve been preparing your room.”
“In the dark?” I said.
The woman moved to a side table by the bed and pulled out a box of matches. When she struck it, the flame seemed so bright in the dim chamber. 
“One becomes accustomed to the darkness here,” said Imperator, lighting a brass candelabra on the bedside table. The light was warm and it made me feel a little less apprehensive as the flame flickered over the damask walls.
“I apologise if I startled you, dear,” she said to me, though she didn’t sound that apologetic. “But I did not expect you so soon.”
Her eyes flicked to Copia and I did not like the way in which she regarded him. There was something about her that seemed oddly familiar and I wondered if perhaps she was a distant relative of his. But the attorney had assured us both that Copia had no other living family. He had also said that the house was empty and no one had resided in it in years.
“How did you know to expect us at all?” Copia asked.
“The estate wrote to me and told me the deed had been transferred,” said Imperator. “Let me go fetch your bags, you must be exhausted.”
“It is appreciated but we are not staying,” said Copia quickly. I could tell he was getting tired and his grip on my shoulder tightened. He always made an effort to be polite, especially to strangers, but I could tell he had had enough for one night. “Thank you.”
Again, she smiled at us, but her eyes kept flicking over to Copia. The way she looked at him made me feel uneasy. I had this horrible feeling that she wanted to take him away from me. Which was ludicrous. The woman was old enough to be his mother. But immediately I decided that I disliked her.
“Where else would you stay the night?” she said. “After all, Mr Cardinale, this is your home.”
Copia merely agreed and the woman disappeared, mentioning something about dinner being ready at eight. I stared at the closed door after Imperator left until I felt Copia move away from me and start trying to coax the wood to burn in the large fireplace.
“You don’t really wish to stay here, do you?” I said, watching as he lit a long match and prodded at the kindling intently.
He glanced up at me as the smoke started to curl into the room, filling my nose with the pleasant scent of burning wood.
“Of course not,” he said. “But the old woman is right, there is nowhere else for us to stay.”
The wood was finally ablaze. With it burning, the candles lit and the moonlight peeking through the clouds outside into the room I felt a little more at ease. And it was just one night. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
One night had turned into four. The morning after that first night, the sun dawned over a cloudy sky. My sleep had been fitful. I had woken many times, ears straining in the silence. I could have sworn I had heard the sound of music again. Whispered voices. Footsteps.
I had told myself it must have been the housekeeper. But my stomach felt as settled as the tumultuous sea outside. When I had found Copia, standing on the balcony and watching the waves lash at the rock below us, he’d said we were staying.
My disappointment and confusion had been impossible to disguise. He’d spoken of tidying the place up so we could sell it and also of learning more about the people who had lived here. It was his home, he’d said.
He had said I could leave if I wished. That had hurt; sending a sharp stab into my heart. I told myself he was thinking of me and only wished for my comfort. Which I would have easily believed before coming to Aspera. But now, I wasn’t so sure. My unease when first coming to this town had returned, stronger than before. I could have borne it more easily if it had felt like it was us against them; against this malevolent house. But after that first night, he never came to bed at the same time as I did. Always muttering about something under his breath as I ascended those stone steps alone. I rarely saw him. Sometimes he’d just snap at me to leave him alone, other times he’d make me sit with him in the hall, clutching my hand tightly—as if I would disappear if he were to let go.
Tonight was no different. I’d seen him whispering to Imperator a few times, but then they would abruptly stop when I’d approach. I hadn’t bothered to try and coax him to bed, I’d left him and changed into my nightclothes on my own before I had lain awake, staring at the canopy of the bed before I had finally fallen asleep.
I don’t remember dreaming but I jolted awake. The wind whipped outside, making the trees clatter against my window. No matter how tightly I latched the balcony doors, the wind seemed to find its way in. It made the curtains flutter, the fabric slowly grazing against the rug sounded like that of hushed whispers. I couldn’t return to sleep. I stretched a hand out to find Copia in the darkness. I needed an anchor, something to make me feel like I wasn’t alone in this horrible place.
He wasn’t there.
I sat up and fumbled for a match to light one of the old candles by the bed. The wick sputtered and hissed before it gave me its weak light. I glanced at the other side of the bed and it was still made. My gaze drifted to the clock—it was three in the morning.
I grabbed my dressing gown and slid my feet into my slippers before leaving the cold chamber. The hallway was even draftier. The sound of my hushed footsteps down the long hallway was horribly loud in the cavernous abbey. I felt like every painted pair of eyes watched me as I made my way down the steps to the grand hall below. 
As I came down the stone staircase, I saw the flickering light that signalled that at least one of the candelabras was still lit. 
“Darling?” I called out.
I took the last step and glanced around until I saw Copia. He was just sitting there, his hands gripping the sides of the large dining table as he stared up at that horrible portrait—the fire underneath still crackling merrily.
When we had first arrived I had thought that portrait exciting and so delightfully macabre! This was nothing like home; it was so fantastic and different. This small town with its silly superstitions and talk of curses and devils. That painting had seemed like something out of the funhouse or a prop from a ludicrous theatre production. A dash of the dramatic to liven the mundane days of having to merely exist in this dreary little town. 
The likeness has been amusing, and the outlandish clothing the man wore so dramatic. As for his strangely painted face, well that had simply added to the frivolity of it all.
I despised it all now.
Copia hadn’t moved as I came down the stone steps, nor did he as I padded across the cold floor. It wasn’t until I reached him; one hand gently clasping his shoulder and the other slipping into his hair at the nape of his neck did he startle. He stared at me as if unseeing before he seemed to come back to himself.
“Cara mia?” He sounded so lost.
He looked unsure, his face settling into one of confusion as he focused on me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I—“ He glanced back at the painting and shook his head. “I don’t know.” The grip he had on the table loosened and he dropped his head into his hands. “I think I was sleepwalking.”
Those muffled words tore at me. Sleepwalking? Where had he been sleeping then? He was still in his dinner jacket. I had never seen him in such a state before. For a moment I felt my world teeter, shifting off the axis I knew and into something so similar yet so different. 
He slowly stood, taking my hands in his before he pulled me close. I could feel his heartbeat beneath my cheek as he held me. It was racing. It made my own race. It made me nervous. 
The world shifted even further.
“Come to bed,” I said, looking up at him. His gaze was once more fixed on that awful portrait of his ancestor. “Copia.” I reached up for his face, dragging his eyes back to mine. The milkiness of his blind eye looked strange for a moment, but it was merely a fleeting one and so I ignored the way it had looked bright and alert. I let my eyes focus on his furrowed brow as I smoothed my fingers over it, as if I could simply brush away whatever troubled him. “Please, darling, come with me.”
He nodded. And again I felt like he wasn’t looking at me—that he was somewhere else. My fingers traced over his moustache, the small hairs tickling my skin before I let my fingers settle on his jaw. I leant up and kissed him but he didn’t move. It was like kissing a statue.
“Copia?” I reached for his face again, holding it gently in my hands. “Please.”
He nodded at me and silently we walked back to the cold chamber. When we were huddled in bed, my back pressed against his chest, I tried to push away the anxieties that plagued my mind. We would leave tomorrow and everything would be as it was, I told myself. I closed my eyes and tried to bury further against him. He murmured things in Italian, his hands holding me tightly. And it wasn’t until I was slipping into the arms of Morpheus did I remember that my husband didn’t speak Italian. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
In the morning, Copia brushed the incident off. Blaming it all on being in an unfamiliar place and jesting about him simply becoming older and more forgetful. “You will understand when you are my age, cara mia,” he had said, trying to laugh it off.
I hadn’t seen him all day after that. Every time I’d hear a creak of a door or the whisper of fabric against stone I’d think it was him. It never was; it was always the wind. Or just my own treacherous imagination. I ate alone. Sitting at that large table with a single candle lit, trying to ignore the eyes of all the portraits that watched me. I felt as if they laughed at me, their fixed smiles delighting in my suffering, hoping and wishing I’d leave. 
But I wouldn’t, not without my husband.
Once I had eaten and returned to my room, I tried to write a letter home. No words had come to me, instead, my hand had hovered over the parchment until it was blotted with the ink dripping from the fountain pen in my hand. What could I have told my sister? That the castle was a fairytale delight? That the townspeople were warm and welcoming? That we would be home soon?
My mind was full of things that I couldn’t say. I could not describe the nightmare this place was and how neglected I felt. It was impossible to describe the ache I felt in my chest when I remember my husband had not touched me, kissed me—or even simply held me—in nearly a week. The white-knuckled grip of his hand holding mine as we sat in the hall below was nothing to treasure. My eyes filled with tears at the thought. So many of the tender moments we had shared seemed a lifetime ago; yet the last time I had felt his skin against mine and his whispered words of adoration in my ear would have been the night before we came to this wretched town. I tried to cling to the memory of us in that narrow bed at the crossroads inn—the mattress far too soft and the walls far too thin—but we had laughed and I had felt loved. It felt as if it were years ago. There was something between us now—something unseen that had created a chasm so that I forever felt as if I stretched out over it trying to reach him. And always failing.
I was saved from the darkness of my own mind when I heard the large front door slam shut. The loud noise startled me and I knocked the inkwell over, spilling the dark liquid all over the small writing desk. Ignoring it, I grabbed my nightgown and slipped into it before I hurried down to the main hall.
Copia strode past me as I reached the landing, his footsteps loud as he came across the stone floor.
“Where have you been?” I asked, hurrying to keep up with him.
“Walking,” he said brusquely. 
“On a night like this?” I said, hearing the wind outside and the loud crash of the sea.
“Yes, it’s invigorating!” He turned sharply on his heel and glared at me. “Must I report my movements to you like a schoolboy?”
“No, of course not,” I said, taken aback by his sharp words and the dismissive look on his face.
“Then mind your own business,” he snapped.
He stalked over to the drinks cabinet by the fireplace and poured a small glass of port. He ignored me completely as I followed him.
“What's happened to you?” I demanded.
“Nothing whatsoever.” He took a sip of his drink and then glared down at me.
It made me realise how tall he was. He was standing so much straighter than he normally did. 
“No, you've changed.” I gripped his arm and I felt him flinch from my touch. How I wanted to cry. “I've never seen you like this!” My hand gripped him tighter. “If you won’t go back home, at least let me call the doctor.”
“No.” He finished the drink and slammed the glass on the table. His lips quirked into a smile, which somehow managed to make me feel worse. “I have plans to call on the good doctor myself. Now, are you satisfied?
I wasn’t. But I merely nodded. “Yes.”
“Then go back to bed!”
I didn’t move. “What will you be doing?”
“That is not your concern.”
This had to be some horrible nightmare. I didn’t know what to say to him; I didn’t even know who was speaking to. It wasn’t the man I married. I whispered goodnight to him and slowly made my way up the stairs. My footsteps faltered when I heard a shout, my ears strained and I heard the sound of talking. Slowly, I came back down the stairs, hands holding my nightgown so the fabric would not make a sound as I crept down the stairs.
“Non ti lascerò mai solo. Il tuo sangue è il mio sangue, la tua mente è la mia mente... il tuo corpo, il mio corpo. Non ti servirà resistermi.”
It was Copia speaking. It sounded wrong, but it was him.
“No. No!”
I moved quickly until I came to the foot of the stairs. In the distance, I could see him standing below the painting of his ancestor. My eyes averted their gaze from it. It was impossible for me to describe why I could not look at it, but I couldn’t. I felt like it watched me, intimately so.
“Non puoi tenermi fuori. La mia volontà è troppo forte. Troppo forte per te.”
I approached him and when I was an arm's width away, he turned sharply to face me. The look on his face livid, I took a step back.
“Why are you spying on me?” Copia demanded.
“I heard voices,” I said accusingly. “You were speaking Italian. Again.”
“I’m trying to learn. Satisfied?”
I wasn’t but I merely nodded. My heart both yearned for him and wanted to be as far away as possible.
He waved a hand dismissively. “Now go to your bed.”
Your bed. Not our bed. I’d never felt so alone as I did walking back through that drafty castle and back into the chamber.
As I entered, I remembered the spilt ink and sighed, I headed down the long hallway and back down the stairs. Copia wasn’t there, so I headed for the kitchen to try and find something to clean the mess up.
“What are you doing?”
It was Imperator. I held my back straight.
“What I do in my home is not your concern,” I said loftily, grabbing a small tea towel.
“Your home?” She came closer. “This is not your home, dear.”
I bristled. I didn’t wish it to be my home. But it was Copia’s. It belonged to the Cardinale family and I was a Cardinale. And I said so, the older woman merely laughed as one would humour a small child.
“This place belongs to the Emeritus family and it always will.” The old woman took the towel I’d found from my hands and guided me out of the kitchen. “Everything in this abbey belongs to them.” She prodded my back. “Everything.”
I followed her back to my room and she helped me clean the mess I’d made. We didn’t share another word until she left, but when I heard the door shut and the unmistakable sound of a lock turning I screamed out.
“Imperator!” I lunged for the handle but it wouldn’t budge—she’d locked me in. I banged on the wooden door. “Imperator—Copia! Help! Let me out!” 
My fists ached by the time I stopped banging against the door and my throat was dry. Angry, hot tears had run down my face and since dried. My skin felt tight yet my will was weak. I splashed water on my face to try and calm myself. In a fit of sudden madness, I threw the balcony doors open. The salt wind was wild and the sea below crashed angrily below. I could not escape. Water stung my face and I fled back inside the gilded cell I’d been locked in.
It was hours later when the door unlocked and Copia came in. My anger was ready to unleash but one look at his face had me falter. The desperate panic on his face made the tears run anew.
“Copia!” I cried, clutching at him as he entered, his hand dropping the key to the ground. “That horrible old woman locked—“
“Dearest.”
His voice stopped me short. He sounded so desolate and it tugged at me—as if my heart were nothing but a ball of string that he held the end of. He took one look at me as I stared wide-eyed up at him and fell to his knees before me.
“Something is wrong.” His arms were wrapped around my middle and his face was pressed against my stomach. 
“What is it?” I asked, my hands instantly going to his hair, my fingers trying to soothe.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I think I’m going out of my mind. It’s this abbey.” He looked up at me from where he sat on the ground, like a puppet without its strings. “Where have I been?”
I couldn’t answer him. So I simply knelt down with him. I could see the cobwebs and dust that clung to his jacket. Where had he been?
“Don’t you remember?” I asked softly.
“No.” His voice was so quiet and I pulled him closer as we sat huddled on the floor. “We have to leave. Tomorrow morning.” xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
We didn’t leave.
He claimed he felt much better. That he’d been down below the house checking the structure. He dismissed my numerous attempts to dissuade him. Always brushing it off as bouts of senility. He was not that old. In these moments it felt like I was speaking to a different person. Sometimes I’d catch the strangeness of his blind eye but then it would fade, and he’d smile at me softly. And for a moment I’d think he’d kiss me, but he never did. He’d just excuse himself and disappear to god knew where.
That night he invited Doctor Saltarian to dinner. I had been trying to keep busy during the day; going into town to fetch supplies for the garden. Trying to bring some semblance of life back to it at least kept my hands and my mind occupied. It was clear that once the grounds had been majestic, just like the rest of the abbey, but now it was nothing but a carcass of its former self. I felt like we were vultures, picking at it and only destroying it further. Then sometimes I felt like I were the dead thing and this decrepit abbey was slowly picking at us, and eventually, it would swallow us whole only to spit back bone.
As I sat at the table, I listened as Copia and Doctor Saltarian spoke. Copia seemed more himself than he had this morning. And it was refreshing to have someone else in the house—someone who was not Imperator. Whenever she was in the room, she hovered around Copia like a broody hen. She acted as if she had not locked me away like some deviant; she had mostly ignored me all day. I could tell Copia found her behaviour irritating to an extent, though I knew there was something there. For some reason, he felt some sort of kinship toward her. He didn’t seem to believe she’d locked me in on purpose. She was old, she had been on her own so long. I didn’t care.
I still hated her.
Perhaps I was being selfish and had become too accustomed to having him all to myself. This made me drop my knife and fork onto the table with a clatter.
“I agree, Mrs Cardinale, I am stuffed,” said Saltarian with a grin in my direction, throwing his linen napkin on the massive table that we sat at.
I tried to muster a smile in response as we all stood and moved over to the worn settees that sat by the fireplace. I hated sitting down here. Copia passed me a small glass of wine before handing one to the doctor as he took a seat.
During dinner, the two of them had been discussing the townspeople while I had sat ruminating in a reverie of my own desolate thoughts. The trip into town to gather some supplies for the garden had been an ordeal. I’d been either ignored or ridiculed by the shopkeepers. And the few people in the street had kept a wide berth from me, making the sign of the cross as I walked past.
“Why must these people treat us as if we have the plague?” asked Copia.
“To them, you do,” said Saltarian. He gestured to the portrait on the wall of Copia’s ancestor. “The townspeople have no use for a fear in gods when a man who they believe wicked and full of sin to be so much closer.” 
“Why should they fear a man so much?” I said. “And a dead one at that.”
The doctor sighed. The fire crackled and I tried to relax in my chair; I had deliberately chosen the seat that was angled away from the portrait. The heat of the fire was against my cheek yet my skin prickled; I could feel those painted eyes on the back of my neck.
“Hundreds of years ago, there were four brothers and their mad father,” explained Saltarian. “The townspeople kept away from them. Devil worshippers. The townspeople feared the Emeritus family.” Saltarian turned his gaze up to the portrait and gestured with his glass. “That was until the fourth one strung up his three brothers and his own father by the old well. The townspeople thought he was their salvation. They were wrong.”
As the doctor spoke, I could see it all. The fear of a mother waking up and finding her sons and daughters gone. Maybe they were lucky and they’d never see them again. Others were not so fortunate and would find their children out in that once dense forest. Their faces changed—demonic and feral. Or perhaps a husband would wake in the night to find his wife gone, and he would search for her only to peer out the window and see a figure in the distance walking slowly towards the abbey. If he was brave, he would stay where he was. If he was stupid, he would follow her.
I sat there with my tight-handed grip on my wine and told myself it was nothing but rumours and superstition. As ghastly as this abbey was, it was not haunted by a devil worshipping ghost.
“I know, it sounds like rubbish,” said Saltarian with a shrug. “But it’s what the people of Aspera believe. They believe the Emeritus family were trying to summon the antichrist.”
“The antichrist?” repeated Copia.
“Yes.” Saltarian shifted in his seat before he took a sip of his wine. “And the town of Aspera believes they were successful. That the fourth Emeritus was the Devil’s son.”
I glanced up at the portrait of Papa Emeritus the Fourth. And perhaps I could believe it. I hated the smug look on his face. And I despised how much he looked like my husband. It made me feel sick.
Saltarian continued, “One night they nailed him to the large oak and burned him alive. He cursed the town.”
They continued to talk but I merely sat there until I felt it was polite to excuse myself. In the morning, I was going to beg Copia to let us leave. I couldn’t stand it here anymore. This cold castle and these foolish people with their ridiculous beliefs. I yearned to be back home, and more importantly, I yearned to have Copia all to myself once more. Something in me was determined to believe everything would be fine as long as we escaped this mad palace.
As I bid them goodnight, Copia had smiled at me and then he had pressed the softest of kisses against my temple. It made me feel dizzy as a hopeful feeling bubbled in my stomach. Maybe whatever had overcome him earlier had passed. 
When I was sitting in bed, trying to read by the candlelight, I heard footsteps. I ignored them, thinking it was either my imagination once more or Imperator. But they paused outside my door. It swung open and I sat up fast. Copia stood in the doorway, his gaze upon me. I was surprised, he had not been coming to bed when I had. I felt the same hope from before rising within me again and I smiled at him.
“Did you want something, darling?” I asked, my voice eager.
“Do I want something?” he said, an eyebrow raised and the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips.
My smile faded as fast as it had appeared and I felt the hope fly away as if taken by the wind outside. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, nor did I like it when he added the words, “I’m here to exercise my husbandly prerogative.”
He’d never spoken to me in such a fashion before. Always his words and gestures were soft and sometimes even shy. It wasn’t that he did not satisfy me—the way his hands would touch and caress me would have me soaring. I would be content to relish in the gentle touch of his hands on my skin, to languish in the comforting embrace of sweet words whispered in my ear. This was new. He had never looked at me with such domineering confidence before.
“Copia…please.”
“Please?” His face twisted into a mockery of a smile as he leant against one of the wooden columns of the ornate bed. “Please what, dolce?”
Please, leave. Please, stop this. Please, give me my husband back. 
There were so many things I felt I was pleading for. And even then, I felt as if part of me was also pleading for him to touch me. All I wanted was for him to hold me as he once had.
“Oh, I know,” he said softly before he came toward me, moving quickly as he crawled up the bed. “I’ve been neglecting you, is that it?”
I pressed myself back, suddenly wishing he would leave me. I didn’t know what was wrong with him but I knew nothing was right. He might have looked like the man I married but that was where the familiarity began and ended. The voice was not quite right. It was him that spoke but he sounded the same as he had the previous night when I’d heard his strange Italian ramblings. The inflection wasn’t the same and the tone was much lower than usual. It made my stomach twist into knots. His movements were also too controlled as he came closer, the bed creaking as he moved. There should have been a world of difference between my husband and a snake, yet I felt he closed the distance between us with the same hypnotic grace and I was too paralyzed to move lest he strike. It was as if he was full of some unknown tension that was so close to snapping—it made me wonder if he was going to kiss me or devour me, or if there was now any distinction. 
When his hands reached for my shoulders and effortlessly pushed my nightgown down my arms I couldn’t help but gasp. 
“I’ve been very busy but I’m back now,” he said as I tried to shuffle even further back from him.
It was pointless, for he was already bearing down on me and pushing me against the bed as he crawled over me. I felt trapped and full of fear as he pinned me down. And yet, I couldn’t help the way my body reacted to his. There was a hellish delight in the feel of his large hands forcing me onto my back.
I struggled, trying to push him off me but I only heard him laugh. 
“Shh, dolce,” he whispered, his mouth pressed against my neck. “È passato tanto tempo dall'ultima volta che ho sentito la carne calda di una donna.”
Again, I tried to push him away, my hands trying to swipe at his face. He grabbed both of my wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above my head in a bruising grip; he did it quickly and with ease as if he’d done it many times before.
He never had.
“Copia—!”
My words were swallowed by him as his lips captured mine. These were not the soft kisses that I had grown accustomed to; these were burning and invading. They made me feel feverish and I couldn’t help but respond to them—not when they made my blood sing and my hands itch to be released.
So I succumbed to him, though it was through no fault of weakness or some notion of my wifely duty—as he had so casually put it—but a curious desire to stoke this dangerous fire he was so quickly building within me.
My hands stopped their feeble efforts of trying to escape his grip. It was clear he had sensed the change in me for he let go of my wrists and instantly my hands flew to his shoulders, gripping at the fabric of his frock coat. I let him trail hot kisses down my neck until he was nipping at my shoulders. His teeth stung my flesh yet it did nothing but incite me further. The flashes of pain were like bright spots within the endless sea of pleasure I felt I was drowning in. Already one of his hands was reaching under the blanket and throwing it off me before it slipped under my nightdress to crawl up the inside of my thigh. His hand cupped my sex and I arched under him. A desperate moan escaped me as I tried to angle myself so that I could press against the heat of his fingers.
I heard his low laugh against my shoulder before his mouth was on mine again. Those lips firm and tongue insistent as he kissed me. The hand between my legs was stroking lazily, his fingers dancing over my flesh and making me sweat even in the frigid cold of this nightmarish castle. 
He kept whispering rough words between those hellsent kisses—I didn’t understand a thing he said, again he was speaking in Italian. But I had no use for understanding when his hands and mouth were already painting such a violent picture of euphoria. The tumultuous feelings he was building had me writhing beneath him. Whereas before I had been desperate to get away, now I was even more so to be closer. My own hands had managed to push the coat off his shoulders so they could slip under his vest to hurriedly try to undo his cravat; frantically trying to reach his bare skin.
I could feel his delighted laughter against my skin as his mouth trailed down my neck and to my shoulder. His teeth nipped at my skin while his fingers had already slipped through my wet folds and were curling within me. The tension he was building had me panting and moaning. When I felt his mouth on my breast I realised he had managed to pull my nightgown down to my stomach so that it all bunched around my waist. 
His mouth was hot as it licked and sucked on my nipple, causing me to cry out while his fingers thrust between my legs. He bit hard and that pushed me over the edge; sending waves of pleasure burning through me. I could feel the tears running down my face and my heart was pounding in my chest, rapid and wild like the beating of a bird’s wings, but he gave me no time to recover my breath. Quickly he removed his clothes, throwing them to the floor without a care before he was upon me; his large hands gripping my hips tightly before I felt the hard heat of his cock slide into me with ease.
“Come sapevo che saresti stato così dolce per me, cara mia,” he purred.
“Brava ragazza,” he said, hands on my hips. I peered down at him with half-lidded eyes, my hands pressed into the solid planes of his chest. “You show me how much you want me, dolce.”
I writhed my hips, undulating over him and taking all that I could. The stretch and heat of him after so many cold nights alone had me wild. Again, another wave of glorious pleasure was building, and I chased it with abandon. I could feel he was close, his growling words and panted breath did nothing but incite me further—I had never seen him so animalistic before.
Suddenly, his arm reached out and grabbed me by the throat and I was forced down to him, our bodies pressed together so that my head rested in the crook of his neck. He held me there as he thrust up into me fast and hard.
“Come apart for me, dolce,” Copia growled into my ear. “Come with me into fire.”
All I could feel was him; his shoulder was pressed against my mouth and the tang of sweat on his skin was on my lips. His skin was hot and his scent was surrounding me—for a moment I thought I would suffocate. And in that moment I didn’t mind. 
The wave of my own release hit me hard and I cried out his name as my hands held tightly to whatever I could reach. His cock kicked before I felt the hot flood of him spilling within me, which only had me gasping from the delirious pleasure of it all.
The grip he had on me slackened. Though my heart still raced as we lay there, the sound of our panting breaths and the wind knocking against the balcony doors the only sounds. I felt him shift beneath me and then his tongue licked up my neck before he sucked on the soft spot behind my ear. I shuddered.
“How sorry I am that I haven’t shared such delights with you, cara mia,” he whispered, teeth grazing against my skin. “A definite lapse on my part.” He brought my lips to mine, a slow decadent kiss that had me reeling and adding nothing but flame to the simmering fire within. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
xxxxxxxxx
Non ti lascerò mai solo. Il tuo sangue è il mio sangue, la tua mente è la mia mente... il tuo corpo, il mio corpo. Non ti servirà resistermi. - I will never leave you alone. Your blood is my blood, your mind is my mind...your body, my body. It will do you no good to resist me.* Non puoi tenermi fuori. La mia volontà è troppo forte. Troppo forte per te. - You cannot keep me out. My will is too strong. Too strong for you.*
È passato molto tempo dall'ultima volta che ho sentito la carne calda di una donna - It's been a long time since I've felt the warm flesh of a woman
Come sapevo che saresti stato così dolce per me, cara mia - How I knew you'd be so sweet for me, my dear 
*from film
96 notes · View notes
miguel-owhora · 3 months
Text
get 2 know me while i hold off writing my essay thats due tomorrow:
:3 i live in the southwestern part of the US - its not fun its boring
:3 i study biology AND, yes and, genetics :3333 do NOT double major, and especially do NOT double major in science that shit will fuck you up in the worst way possible
:3 i have 3 cats !!!!!! two are boys the other is a girl. the eldest is a black tom w yellow eyes , i found him... 3 years ago? like somehow he was outside my house in fenced area???? idk how he got there but. and the other 2 are siblings - the boy is a black tom w yellow eyes (hes blind in one) n the girl is a brown torbie w yellow eyes.
:3 idk if you can tell but i read warrior cats as a kid 😭
:3 i used to shoplift 💀💀💀
:3 i had a hamilton phase n im not even gonna lie, i still like it
:3 i also had a mlp phase when i was younger n made my ponies emo. oh ! and a fnaf phase 😭 i had a lot of phases tbh
:3 believe it or not but im 6'5
:3 on my mama i despite onions AND tomatoes 👎👎👎 and mole, ill actually gag if i taste it
:3 uhhhmmmmmmmm i like green, red..... blue???????? yeah n pink :3
:3 what else uhmmm idk i like to illegally watch movie n illegally download modified apps idk
:3 idk what else ok this is all my friends
:3 oh yeah ive been married to miguel for a while now lol hes my wife n the loml I Will Go Insane If Something Happens To Him In BTSV, so creators of btsv do not PLAY WITH MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE idk what ill do but it will not be good
:3 i had HAVE not had lol adhd 💀
:3 im mexican but i identify as a chicano lol
:3 literally a miguel variant
7 notes · View notes
autism-corner · 11 months
Text
Convenient Trouble, Levi x reader smut
Tumblr media
It was the only way to achieve what he wanted. There’s no way that Levi could actually just directly approach you or anything. No, he’s way too much of a loser for that. So, to get what he’s been so desperately dreaming of, it had to look like an accident. It had to look like something went unfortunately wrong. That’s the only way to get things right.
Here he is. The moment of truth. All his brothers had left the house, only leaving you and him for a surprising amount of time. His plan was laid out, alongside the rope he’d need. This was the only way Levi would get you to be his.
(I realise it might look like he’s going to kill himself. He is not don’t worry =w=b Its just the good ol' 'whoopsie ive tied myself up in a sexual way teehee thats so silly lol')
Tumblr media
II Top Reader II AMAB Reader II you/yours pronouns II 2,200 Words II Trans Levi II Also posted on AO3!! II
Tumblr media
It’s one of the few peaceful days in the house of Lamentation. All the nuisances have left the building and the only two current occupants were both holed up in their rooms. You took this quiet day to watch a movie you’ve been looking forward to.
It had only been a few minutes before your watching was interrupted. A call from Leviathan? Now you’re curious. Levi is the last brother to call unnecessarily, so something must be really amiss. Quickly you press the button.
“Levi, are you okay?” you nearly scream. Despite his distant character, you’ve really grown to care about him. Maybe a little more than you’d like.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean. Somewhat.” You feel relieved. He doesn’t sound like he’s in too much distress. His voice sounds a lot more nervous than panicked. “You see, like…” A breath. He needed to take this slow, and you knew not to interrupt. “So you know in Season 4 of Ruri-chan there’s an episode where this bad guy that has kidnapped Azuki-tan and Ruri-chan goes to save her and to have enough time to untie Azuki-tan Ruri-chan actually ties up the bad guy so he won’t interfere and she does so successfully and they both make it out and so this rope that she used to tie up the bad guy is actually pink with little flowers all over it so it’s like a real Ruri-chan rope and now they’ve released it as merch. And so I had to get it. But now I’m stuck.”
These were the most words you ever heard Levi say. How passionate can this guy get about a kids show? Although, you have to admit, it’s kind of endearing. Wait. He’s stuck?
“You’re stuck?” He lets out a whine. “Please don’t laugh at me. I was just excited and it got all b-bungled up. I know im a good-for-nothing otaku, but could you p-please come help me?” God, it sounded like he was on the verge of tears. You smiled, “Of course I'll come help you Levi. I’m on my way.” He exhaled with relief. “Good! You know, the newest episode from ‘Help, I Have A Crush But No Idea How To Approach Him So I Tied Myself Up And He Had To Help Me’ begins airing soon and I absolutely cannot miss that, so you better hurry.” You laughed, responded with a simple “I will.” and hung up. For how much of an introvert he is, this sure is a very direct method.
— Upon entering the room, it was clear what kind of predicament Levi had gotten himself into. And gotten himself into it he had, because there’s no plausible way for that to have happened by accident. He was on the floor with his face near the ground, arms and legs bound to his torso and ass clearly presented in the air.Ofcourse his ass was pointed directly at the entrance, both granting you a beautiful view, with the added bonus that Levi couldn’t catch you staring.
The way the rope wound over and under Levi’s legs, arms and stomach made it possible for him to be entirely picked up by one hand. He looked pathetic and helpless, and the bright red colour on his face didn’t help.
“Ah! You came!” He must have heard the door, because you’d been just standing there, taking it all in. The way his aquarium reflected a soft blue light everywhere made it look that much more heavenly. You close the door behind you, and turn the knob to lock. Slowly you approach your stuck prey, who’s silently sweating away. With the way his face is pressed against the floor, his vision is extremely limited. He tries to listen to your approach, but still lets out a surprised yelp when he feels your hand on his head.
“Poor little lamb. Levi dear, how could you have possibly ended up in this situation? You know, I’m really starting to think this isn’t that much of an accident.” You smiled and watched as his cheeks got just a little more vibrant. “NO! I swear to you this wasn’t on purpose! I’m so sorry you have to see a gross pervert otaku like this I shouldn't have even started this I knew it’d be bad. But it was an accident! I’m telling you!!”
You kneel next to him, trying to look him in the eyes, while he’s actively avoiding yours. You don’t know Levi all that well, but it’s very clear that this is a played up innocent act. The way he’s biting back his smile and the way his eyes are glistening can’t be a coincidence. Debating how to handle this situation, you continue.
“Hm. Well, if that’s how you want to play it.” Levi’s eyes finally meet yours, and the mutual understanding is immediately clear.
You switch up your attitude, now that you know there is a joint goal.
“Levi dear, how could I possibly help you? I mean. Look at the predicament you’re in.” Your voice is filled with fake concern and a bit of amusement. Standing up, you take another good look at him. There are only a few knots, reachable by Levi’s own hands. He could’ve easily come out if he wanted to. He is still on all fours, ass high up in the air. The only thing that has changed since you’ve come in is the way his legs are positioned, now slightly more spread than natural.
“You know what I think?” Your hands find his ass, and god do they feel divine. It really was a shame he always wears that long-ass cloak.
You get on your knees behind him, and bend over to whisper in his ear. “We might need to remove the clothes you have, just to make some space between the rope and your body. Do you mind?” Patiently you wait for his response. Levi really isn’t a guy that talks much when he’s in these situations, but it’s not like you mind. You just need a quick actually verbal confirmation. “Baby? I am going to need a response, darling.” He whimpers.
“I- I didn’t expect it to go this well. Please just do whatever you want! I want to be in your complete mercy!” He cries out. You place a quick kiss on his ear. “That surely can be arranged, don’t you worry pretty.”
Getting up again, eager to finally start the action, your eyes notice the convenient ways some of the rope is bound. It seems that there’s been successfully left just enough space for Levi’s pants to be pulled down. How favourable.
Deciding to keep teasing him for a bit, you snake your hand between his legs and cup his sex. You didn’t exactly find the dick that you were expecting, but his pussy felt wet and soft and you couldn’t wait to delve in. The small gasp he let out only encouraged you.
He seemed to be just as turned on as you, slightly wet through his pants. To let him know just how much you were enjoying him, you press your hard-on against him, causing Levi to let out a harsh moan. While he doesn’t like talking that much, you have a feeling he is rather vocal. Which only means you’ll want to try your hardest to hear all of Levi’s delicious little noises.
With one hand on his hip and the other slowly playing with his front, you begin to move your hips as well. Levi is whining and struggling underneath you, desperately trying to get any more friction he can get.
Deciding you’ve both been tormented enough, you pull down Levi’s pants and underwear as far as they can go. It’s something you’ve been dreaming of seeing, and it’s a great deal better than you’ve hoped. Round cheeks with freckles sprinkled here and there, and a surprisingly wellkept grooming situation. Given the state of his usual hygiene, you were certainly not about to complain.
“It sure looks like someone came prepared.” His hole was clearly stretched already. Finally being able to touch his actual skin, you reach for his clit. While he’s trembling beneath you, letting out soft groans and moans, you reach down to undo your own pants.
Levi is ready, spread open all for you. His holes are beautifully exposed, his cries steadily growing louder. Still slowly rubbing his tiny dick, the hand on Levi slowly moves downwards, inching to his precious warmth. Your other hand is leisurely stroking your own dick, preparing it for what’s to come.
Your fingers have reached Levi’s hole, and are now slowly prodding at the entrance. Finally having gained the courage by Levi’s lavish voice, you push in two fingers at once. It looks like Levi had been playing with his bits for quite some time already, since there was barely any resistance. Hearing him moan loudly only reinsured your ideas.
The soft feeling of him surrounding you was already heavenly, and the best was yet to come. Thanks to the way Levi was still desperately grinding against both your hand and erection, you knew time was running low. So, reckoning Levi is prepared enough by both your and his previous preparations, you decide to dive in. You remove your fingers from his hole, making him let out a desperate sob. The hand moves up to his hips, still delightfully positioned due to the ropes. You guide your dick to his hole, and without warning, push in.
The way Levi squeals out is something that you will always remember. It began low and rumbling, quickly rising in volume and tone once he realised you were actually, properly inside him. That first embrace, combined with Levi all packed up for you, truly felt like heaven. Giving some time for Levi to adjust, you bend over his body again. “God, you feel so good like this, Levi.” You let out a groan. “So perfect and pretty, only for me right?” His only responses are small wails and shrieks, apparently already to fucked out to answer. Deciding it’s certainly been long enough, you finally begin to move.
Getting up again, both your hands grasp a firmer grip on his hips. You begin with slowly thrusting halfway in and out, but after just a few smacks you cave in. Levi had explicitly said to use him however you please, so why should you even have to be careful? Your movement becomes quicker, the sound of the smacks making a beautiful symphony alongside Levi’s moans.
The way his body moves in response to yours is mesmerizing, so limited by the rope but all to free against his tiled floor. He made a good choice to bind his confinements in a way that still leaves a layer of cloth between him and the cold hard ground. Your performance leaves his body making small shocks, and he is both propelled by your thrusts yet contained by the firm hands still on his hips. The way your momentum is constantly hitting him in the middle of his breaths makes his yelps sound that much better. Every time you hit his spot, his noises become more angelic. There’s no doubt as to why he might have fallen.
While you’re continuing to ravage his body, the small pressure in your stomach keeps growing. When you notice it slipping past the point of return, you quickly place your hand lower, to start playing with Levi’s clit again. Somehow, Levi begins to let out words again. “Please..” he moans. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.” His voice starts hiccuping and it’s clear that he too, is close. Gathering the very few thoughts you have still left, you respond.
“Yeah baby? Do you want me to fuck you full?” He returns quickly, with the loudest voice you’ve ever heard out of him “Yeah fuck!” You join him with his moans, his walls tightening around you, wanting to pull you even closer. “Fuck me full daddy please I’m so close. Please fill me up. I need you right now.”
Although you would love to focus on the things Levi’s continuing to babble out, you feel his peak coming in. He shakes and clenches around you, pulling you over as well. It’s delicious, and you wish to experience this over and over again. You continue to thrust and fuck him roughly, getting both of you trough your respective climax, while filling him to the brim.
Getting down from the high, you slowly pull out. The string of your release keeps you connected for a bit, before splitting and dripping on the ground. Gross. You really need to clean both of you off. Still half-dazed, you go to check on Levi. His tongue is rolled out, drool making a little puddle on the floor. His eyes are closed and if you wouldn’t know better, he might have fallen asleep. Poor thing. You pick him up, and slowly you begin to untie his creation.
How he managed all of this in the first place, is something you’ll have to ask him later. Currently, the only thing that matters is him curled up in his bath with you, lazily and with a surprisingly confident manner, talking about his feelings for you. A proper confession was really due, after all.
36 notes · View notes
yongislong · 2 years
Text
[ ncity playlist event ]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
now playing ... LEE TAEYONG
tokai - taeko onuki
female energy - willow
crushcrushcrush - coco and clair clair
summer - the volunteers
seven - men i trust
the only exception - paramore
friend zone - thundercat
strawberry privillege - yves tumor
let it pass - jakob
beach baby - bon iver
now viewing ... // he smothers you under his favorite blanket. tonight was the night and unbeknownst to him, the way he was squeezing his pink bunny had you worried. he had been using 'pinky' to try and ground himself as he builds up courage for his upcoming love speech (lol)
you knocked the breath out from his lungs as soon as he saw you in his modern sexuality class. he thought you were the coolest person in the world and therefore made it his life's mission to at the very least be your friend
little does he know you were planning the same confession and had thought the same things about him all semester long as well
it isn't the first time you're at his place, but something about the december air makes it all the more intimate. music aka the secret playlist he made titled 'lovely y/n' plays from his pc as you trace the doodles on his walls. his eyes follow your fingertips. after a moment of revelation and foolish confidence, you sigh deeply and spin around almost as fast as he whips his head around to pretend he was staring at his fish tank the whole time fists balled and eyes shut tight, the only things leaving your lips is a tight mutter about your feelings about him, quick and insecure, confidence from 5 seconds ago melting away
he's so focused on not being focused on you that he doesn't catch your confession. you stand there waiting for an answer. after a couple seconds you groan and thump the nearest marker at his head. before he can pick a fight, you're repeating what you said with flaming red cheeks. that does him in. moving to sit next to him for an answer
all he does for the next couple of minutes after your untimely love confession is squeal and mutter
'you're so mean!! don't lie to me, you're serious? no way...wow....wow, wait no....oh my god...stop! your lying!! STOP LAUGHING!!'
after a lot of comforting on your part, he lays on your chest silently muttering wow every couple of seconds until he falls asleep. //
idk if i like this :( ive been working on it so much i just wanted to post it alrdy
Tumblr media
83 notes · View notes
hiisfire · 5 months
Text
after his name has been called, kinji walking towards you, two fingers noisily check if his teeth are fit. stopping next to his sworn holder, sighing, grumpy. rolling eyes, mumbling, "what do you want me to do?" this is his clockwork, or what he is used to. kinji has been no different for centuries. he doesn't change, he shouldn't change. not for others, not for the thoughts that made him become breathable. but, isn't that saunter something to be scared of? the way he just appeared when a name was called. he looks so tired, so frustrated. but at the same, passion in his depths; something is so rewarding for all the worth and loyalty that he thinks he can provide. so, that's all the worth in trying to make sure you have a miserable day. sometimes, the contract holders too because even a promise of loyalty and honesty isn't tight enough to get a demon made from regrets, anguish, and lust to stop what he is made to do.
Tumblr media
are you ready to have a bad day?
read rules&about below:
ROLEPLAY:
 i. i will only rp with mutuals. ii. do not godmod. though i understand that if your character is of a “ higher being ” or aggressive — slapping/punching/pushing is okay. kinji is of the same nature so, i would expect other characters to fight back if that is in their characterization. iii. i do not accept magic anons. iv. this blog is i don’t even know ship. v. there will be nsfw material present on this blog though i do try to tag whatever i can, let me know if there is a certain thing that i need to tag. or just don’t follow me. vi. i will probably block personals on sight.
THE MUN:
i. alekander or alek/aleck ii. i’m 26 iii. i’m very lazy 101% of the time iv. they/them pronouns, i am nonbinary v. sometimes i shit post
BREAK FOR about kinji -> (there's a lot)
Tumblr media
name: kinji —  勤 (kin) meaning “industrious, diligent, attentive” combined with 次 (ji) meaning “next, secondary”.  — in the past, kinji has received many names but has had difficulty being able to keep a master due to being reckless & starting fights that he can’t finish. he figured that if he granted himself a proper name, he would find a permanent place to live to serve.
age: 632 years ( but appears 23 ) height: 177.8 cm ( 5'10" )
weight: 63kg ( 140 lbs ) hair: a dark red/auburn color, parts at the left eyes: a soft red color, pink. mole under left eye. species: fox spirit / KITSUNE ( nogitsune )— a spirit / daemon that has been created & devote himself to serving those of high statuses such as gods&deities/warlocks/witches/etc relationship status: like 3 bfs & 2 gfs origin: hell / japan birth: he was born ’from the flames of hell’ at least, that’s what he claims also, was brought to earth by a god. he was summoned as a child and has resided in the area ever since. he occasionally goes back to his birth home but, prefers not to. he doesn’t like being there nor does he want to stay there for long periods of time.
abilities: fox fire, shapeshifting ( human form, fox form ) qualities: 
protective
ambitious
knows how to cook
clever
flaws: – too many flaws to count tbh
PROTECTIVE
mischievous
can be p rude
fights too much,,,,
can’t get along with other familiars
likes:
witches / warlocks
humans in general
food
dominance
violence
dislikes:
cats
daemons & other familiars
dragons
TRIVIA:
even though he doesn’t need to eat to survive, he loves the taste of some foods
usually covered in band-aids
“ i’m your biggest fan, i’ll follow you until you love me ” vibe
10 notes · View notes