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#ignore the questionable voice acting
feralplantwife · 7 months
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Erzsebet Bathory- Thematic Character Analysis
I've seen a lot of posts about Erzsebet Bathory, and the general sense is that while her design is cool, she's not very well-developed or impressive from a character standpoint. I agree... Somewhat.
I'm going to get into it below, but the TL;DR version is that from a characterization standpoint, she is weak, but from a thematic standpoint, she is Everything.
Disclaimer: I have not been fortunate enough to play any of the games, so this analysis will focus solely on the show. <3
First, what do vampires mean in storytelling?
A vampire can symbolize many things, but here are the big three: they're a representation of the Other, the unknown (kind of like Frankenstein's Monster), but they can also be a manifestation of carnal, sinful, or deviant desires (think Dorian Grey). The one I'm going to focus on here, as it's the most relevant, is the third main type: the Parasite. Vampires are bloodsucking, gluttonous, selfish starving monsters that consume and consume until there is nothing left (think Robert Baratheon).
This was a theme that was explored in the first series with the Church's opulence and their desire to sacrifice innumerable human lives for the sake of their image and power. Carmilla is the same, but in contention with the Church.
This theme is expanded upon beautifully in Nocturne, with the French Revolution bourgeoise and American colonization and slave trade building upon the themes of the first series. Olrex talks about his home being destroyed, his lover's people being exterminated but holding onto his identity even in undeath. Annette holds onto her Yoruban faith and her Creole heritage taught to her by her mother and fellows even after generations of cultural genocide at the hands of her masters- a combination of more than one old indigenous faith and newer conglomerations of the same. (In this way, one could say that Erzsebet Bathory and Annette are foils!)
How does Erzsebet Bathory fit into this thematically?
Let me explain it like this: Erzsebet Bathory is a white woman dripping in stylized opulence who swallowed an Egyptian god. The truest enemy in this series is colonialism: the consumption of everything and everyone that isn't white and Christian to expand white and Christian ideals and desires using God as a face for their misdeeds- the consumption of people, land, culture, religion, knowledge, kindness. What could not be consumed was destroyed.
In this way, Erzsebet Bathory is the manifestation of all the greatest evils people of color and minorities have ever faced, and continue to face today: that of homogenization, exploitation, and destruction.
The fact that this is expanded by her vampiric elitism builds upon this idea by including all human beings. It's open knowledge among many anthropological circles that colonization destroyed a lot of technology, culture, and knowledge, has held society back, and continues to lead to unnecessary and painful struggle among society (largely due to that fact that many developed nations' governments are still being run by vampires today- how are all my fellow Americans doing as we barrel toward a government shutdown for this very reason?).
Erzsebet Bathory signifies the consumption of the human spirit and the death of mankind, wrapped up in a beautifully terrifying amalgam of every single sin the colonizers ever committed. She's not the ultimate character of Nocturne by a long shot, but she is the ultimate monster.
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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✎ rivals... in love?
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- gojo satoru x reader
gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?
genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff
note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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No way. There is just no way.
Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.
“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”
With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.
Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!
"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."
And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”
"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.
It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.
…Right?
At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.
And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?
Heh, no one.
(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)
“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”
Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”
Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”
“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”
It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—
“Heh, so what if I am?”
That's the wrong answer.
Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"
“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”
“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”
“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”
By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.
This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...
Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.
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Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.
And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.
"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"
You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"
"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."
"Who are you talki—"
"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"
You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.
“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”
"Gojo, I don't have the time—"
"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"
"You're unbeliev—"
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"
"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."
You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."
"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"
He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."
How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.
"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"
At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"
Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:
"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."
Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.
It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...
Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"
But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."
His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"
"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."
Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?
And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.
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Epilogue
In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"
Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."
"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."
"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."
Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"
"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"
-> continue to extended cut !
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sh1-n0bu · 5 months
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♡︎ 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖 ♡︎
characters: priest!sub!blade x demon lord!nb!dom!reader
warnings: breeding, creampie, eating out, fingering, squirting, monsterfucking, consensual non-con, dirty talk, feminization (like literally), lactating, nipple stimulation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, size kink, belly bulge, cervix kissing, blade is a demon hunting priest, reader is a demon lord so they can choose whether to have a cock or pussy so basically genderfluid reader???? also reader changes blade’s anatomy to have a pussy and womb — it’s so messy okay😭😭
word count: 4.4K
notes: you KNOW shit is getting real when nobu starts word count. never thought i would be writing a bit of a dark-ish content yet here we are. the power of the horny😔 also inspired by my chat with one of ririshizu’s bots
special thank you to @theblades and @yenaakwyl for proofreading a whole damn 14 pages of filth
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being a priest is no laughing matter. especially when you’re the type of priest that hunts and gets rid of demons who somehow ended up with a demon lord clinging to you, who’s constantly at your side, asking you questions about the human realm.
what was up with you, anyways? a literal demon lord, one of the lords of a deadly sin and yet here you were, dragging him around the streets, pointing at random things, wanting to sample every street food there were. sure, your human form was incredibly deceiving. a short, sweet human, clinging to his arm, excitedly pointing at the many different things that caught your attention. it would be hard for anyone to think of you as a demon lord in disguise.
except for blade. he’s been in this field of work for such a long time. constantly vanquishing demons who either were too annoying or possessed a poor, curious soul. the sharp edge of his shard sword is no laughing matter.
but you didn’t seem to mind. this demon lord, acting like a curious puppy, pulling him to each sides of the streets — ignoring the loud angry shouts of the car drivers and the constantly thinning of his wallet of course. not that blade had much to worry when it came to financial freedom. putting his life on the line and vanquishing demons from the human realm pays a generous amount.
it felt wrong to allow you to cling to him. you, a demon lord, no matter what your disguises meant or whatever pathetic excuse you came up with of wanting to sample human food. he should have gotten rid of you sooner yet no matter how much his hands twitch to unsheathe his shard sword, he just can’t seem to do it. no matter what his threats may seem or be heard of, the priest just can’t bring himself to harm you. if anything, he finds himself doing the absolute opposite, to his blatant horror.
“wait, no, don’t do that. the water just boiled so it’s hot, it could burn your tongue”
“you do realize that ice isn’t meant to be eaten, right? no, i don’t care how much of a pretty shape it’s in or if it still has the aftertaste of the coffee”
“if you eat too much raw red pepper, you could have a heart stroke. 14 is enough on one sitting. give it here”
yes, you get the point. a priest vanquishing demon, living together with a demon lord and even protecting them. hypocritical, right?
one night, as you two were cuddling on the couch and absentmindedly watching cliche horror movies that has demons with red skin and horns and a tail, that reminded something to blade. demons have unique demon forms depending on their sins and ‘birth’. but you never once showed an ounce of your demon form. not even a single slip-up.
“hmm? why do you ask? curious?” you hum softly, taking another fistful of the popcorn in the bowl. not that blade minded. if anything, he unconsciously pushed the bowl of popcorn closer to you.
“i guess so. you never even spoke of your demon form whether it has a tail or not” the priest mumbles, his husky voice turning softer just for a moment. or maybe he was just sleepy, judging by his dark eye-bags and little yawns.
oh right, you never did. but then again, blade never asked of your demon form before so, it’s to be expected after all.
just as blade had shrugged off your silence and turned his attention back to the tv, he felt something slithering around his waist. swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he briefly looks down at what was wrapping around his waist. there, snug around his hips was a long, pale white, scaled, snake-like tail. it seemed incredibly long, judging by how it easily wrapped around his hips few times and the rest was just dangling off of the side of the couch.
was this…?
he could feel his hand twitch. itching, something under his skin itching of wanting to reach down and run his hand over the smooth looking scales of the tail.
pat! pat pat!
before blade could even make sense of what the fuck he just did, his hand had unconsciously unraveled from it’s former crossed position. one hand going down, flattening his palm over the smooth, large tail before giving it a few pats. at the same time, he could hear another low pat pat! sounds coming from the side of the couch. must be your tail ends flicking and hitting against the couch, he deducted.
briefly, blade steals a glance at your face. still watching the movie on the TV, seemingly paying no mind to the feeling of his human hand resting over your tail. it was oddly warm to the touch. from the look of it resembling a snake like tail, he expected it to be cold.
slowly, he runs his hand over the scales. soft, smooth and easily gliding over them as if it was nothing. sure, some bumps are felt on the palm of his hand but other than the occasional little ridges, it was completely smooth. how… soothing.
blade doesn’t know how or when but over the course of time you spent at his apartment, these little moments of playing with your tail had become a normal occurrence. little moments of “affection” if you will. fridays had become the weekly movie nights. blade would put on some random horror movie that you chose to be the most interesting based on the summary of the movie. half an hour or so into the movie and blade would feel the familiar scales of your tail wrap around his hips.
the priest would sometimes toy with your tail in hopes of getting you to show your true color of being a demon lord. to make you angry. to make you snap and finally show your true colors. if anything, it had the complete opposite effect as your tail only tightened around him. low, deep rumbling sounds akin to a purr coming from the depths of your chest.
briefly, the priest would catch himself wondering how it would feel to lay his head on your chest as you purr. cats have de-stressing and soothing qualities to their purrs. would demons be the same? sometimes, he would even catch himself thinking of… sacrilegious things. like how your tail would feel wrapped around his legs, opening him up for you. how your form could shapeshift and could have a human male’s anatomy. would you purposefully make it big? would you force it past his twitching rim, uncaring of his whines and pleads to wait?
ah, but that sounded so unlike you. despite being a demon lord, you have been nothing but calm and peaceful with blade. soft hums, nods of agreement, always needing his help and inquiring him of his thoughts on something.
then, would you coax him? whispering soft reassurances in the shell of his ear as you softly push your cock inch by inch inside him. a large, clawed, inhuman hand running over his stomach, talking about all sorts of things, promising to breed him full of your seeds as he cries. opening his legs wide with your tail wrapped around his thighs, wiping away his tears as he cries so prettily?
“f-fuck…” unknowingly, blade found himself with a little problem. another movie night, another time spent together ‘cuddling’. yet due to his own thoughts, blade finds himself embarrassingly hard. shit, he needed to find a way to leave the room and take care of his problem. but your tail way starting to curl around him in loops, just like how a snake would wrap itself around it’s prey.
did you know? know of his raging hard on and was just teasing him now? no. taking a brief glance at your face caused blade to come to a conclusion that you didn’t know. yet. that was the biggest part. or maybe you did considering just how your tail was moving around his waist. slipping under the hem of his shirt, slipping up, curling around his body under his shirt. scale coming in contact with skin. blade almost let out a moan at the feeling if it weren’t for him biting down on his lips.
“[n-name], get your tail off. i need to use the bathroom” internally cursing himself out for stuttering, blade can only hope that you would oblige. gods, just the way you let out a soft “hmm?” while playing innocent, smiling at him and blinking like nothing happened while your tail curls around his skin.
fuck, he was done for. you knew. you fucking knew.
“are you sure? your body seems to react positively from the amount of human interaction that i’ve had until now, blade” the end of your tail circles around his peck. slowly trailing the end as if you were going to squeeze—
“n-ngaah?!” a surprised noise comes from the priest’s mouth before he clenches his jaws shut, brows furrowing together as he tries to ignore the feeling on his chest. soft and slow circles. the end of your tail was wrapped around his nipple, pulling and rolling it between as if it was nothing. shit, when did his chest get so sensitive?
“oh that was a cute sound. do it again” you hum, turning away from the TV and looking at him now. curse you for looking so damn interested and curious as your tail fondles his nubs. blade can feel his pants starting to form a wet patch as his breathing becomes more labored.
“t-take… your goddamn tail off. i swear, i’ll ghh—! chop it into pieces…!” despite his best efforts, his words had no bite. just weak mumblings of a pathetic excuse of a priest being turned on as a literal demon lord tugs at his nipple. he was even starting to quietly whine in place as he tries to swallow down his moans.
“say, blade. i read from somewhere that human chest can lactate when stimulated enough. can you lactate?” blade almost shrieked at your words. lactating? him? while it was true that human women can lactate if they gave birth, he was unsure about men being able to lactate.
“n-no! can’t! i’m a man, it’s impossible for my chest to produce mi—ungh!” his words die quickly in his throat when your tail clenched around his nipple tightly. pulling on it, familiar to a pinching motion. since when did his body get so sensitive like this? or was this all your doing? did you secretly put a spell on him to make him sensitive?
“stop..! [n-name] stop ooungh! please, stop! i’m telling you, i’m a man. i can’t lactate like a woman!” his pleads fall on deaf ears as you slip his shirt off over his head. instead this time, using your hands to knead and fondle his pecks. squeezing, rolling his sensitive nubs between your fingers, even tugging on them. it all got blade letting out uncharacteristic high pitched noises like a cat in heat.
“p-please… stop this, [name]..” blade trails off, red in the face, shame, embarrassment and arousal swirling in his stomach like a hot bubbling lava as he admits defeat and whines helplessly.
“then wriggle yourself out of my tail. it’s loose around you, bladie” you briefly retort as you suckle on his nipple. mouth latched to his chest, biting and planting wet kisses all around his soft pink areola. as weak as his whimpers and pathetic his begging were, he really wasn’t making a single attempt to pull back. you have given him enough chances even now as your tail stays loose around him. yet he still tries to act like he hates it.
switching between giving attention to his two nipples with blade not even thinking of pulling himself out of your tail, the movie plays in the background, long forgotten. you were determined to make this weird human of yours lactate. you can make him!
it didn’t took much longer until blade let out a yelp as a warm liquid drops in your mouth. the taste oddly sweet and a bit thick in texture. realizing that his chest was feeling much more heavier and nipples felt more wetter than before, the priest’s eyes widen in horror and arousal. did you really managed to stimulate him enough to make him lactate?
“oh? so, i was right! humans can lactate regardless of their gender” you let out a soft giggle, internally cheering as a bright smile comes across your face. the sheer amount of exuberance you showed in his lactation had caused blade to feebly attempt to cover his chest.
“don’t! don’t look… it’s embarrassing…” the man whines, shaking hands covering up his leaking nubs. but that proves to be futile as his hands covering his chest had caused him to twitch. everything felt so much and so little at the same time. his poor cock was neglected and weeping, staining his pants as you stimulate his nipples as he whines.
this wasn’t supposed to happen! he wasn’t supposed to be this sensitive to your touches.
but the leaking of his milk had seemed to cause something to stir in your chest. an odd sense of possessiveness and need to claim him growing in your heart, tugging at it. laying your palm flat against his stomach, you rub slow circles onto it. somehow, it had helped to lessen blade’s embarrassment.
“bladie, how would you feel if i were to make you my baby momma?” your voice cuts him out of the trance like state he was in. blinking his eyes a few times with a weak “huh?” as if he hadn’t heard you. with a quiet chuckle, you ask again. repeating the question to him slowly in case he was too pleasure driven.
baby momma? but that’s something that people refer to when women get pregnant right? were you referring to making him pregnant? but that was impossible! he was a man and men had different anatomy compared to women’s!
“i can use a few spells. you would have a female anatomy. but only if you wish to be my baby momma. i would take good care of you and the kids, we’d be together as a cute family. don’t you think we’d be a cute family, blade?” he could briefly hear you hum. but the rest of your words flew over his head since the female anatomy part.
a female anatomy. blade would have a pussy, a womb, cervix the perfect anatomy to get pregnant. he would be a cute baby momma. your baby momma. and he would carry your kids. a child who was half you and half him, a cute bundle of sunshine.
“please… please do. make me your baby momma. i wanna be your b-baby momma..!” blade nods frantically, not even bothering to think over the consequences too deeply. but the prospect of having your kids, of having you inside him got blade rubbing his thighs together, head spinning with all sorts of thoughts as his breathing becomes labored. you said you would take good care of him and the kids! he’ll be in good hands.
although a part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him to withdraw from the touch of your palm running over his stomach, changing his insides, blade could only sit there dumbly. a baby. a cute baby that you two made together. it would be so sweet, so cute. blade couldn’t wait any longer as he silences the logical part of his brain. all he wanted was you now. just you and nothing else.
the process didn’t take long. a few strokes of your hand and soothing whispers to his ear and it was done. or at least, from what you said. and oh fuck, was it true. when you tugged his pants and boxers off, what greeted both of your eyes was a slick pussy, dripping with arousal. seeing how you had successfully changed him, the priest lets out a weak whine, closing his legs to hide himself.
you didn’t seem to like that. clicking your teeth as your tail wraps around his leg, pulling his legs apart and allowing your hungry eyes to feast on his dripping cunt. blade couldn’t help his whine as the feeling of being so empty took place in his head. or was it inside his womb that he felt so empty?
“so sweet. you would look so cute with my cum dripping out of you” you mutter, running a finger up his wet pussy. the action got his hips twitching, trying to make you push your finger inside himself. tutting softly, reminding him to be patient, you slowly ease a finger in. oh gods, the stretch felt so good. so full and filled already despite it being just a single finger that was now slowly massaging his plush walls.
the soft whines and gasps coming out of blade turns into a moan as he throws his head back on the couch. long, navy hair spreading over the mattress as your fingers scissor him open. you would have expected him to be more… reclusive considering his usual act. perhaps you were wrong. the way that blade was throwing his head back, moaning without shame as his warm walls suck your fingers in greedily caused you to almost mistaken him for a virgin. or maybe he was just touch starved. poor thing.
cooing words of how he was doing good, how his gushy cunt was sucking in your fingers so prettily, you lean down to pepper kisses on his clit. long, forked tongue coming out momentarily to slip inside him with your fingers, constantly flicking his clit. the action caused to have made him oversensitive. strong, scarred thighs coming up to wrap around your head, a hand fisting at your locks as loud, pathetic whines of “c-can’t! feelss sho weird! [n-name], can’t—gyuuck! aanh aah♡︎!!” trails off into a high pitched whines as his hips jerk. legs clamping around your head in a vice grip, fisting at your locks tightly as his back arches off of the couch so prettily as he squirts in your mouth. ah right, in your own haze, you’ve forgotten and accidentally pushed your tongue in too far, hitting his g-spot.
well, that was fine. the cold priest sounded so cute and tasted delicious as he twitches under you. it would be fine to fuck him open with your tongue and prepare him thoroughly.
blade doesn’t know what to think anymore. was he even able to think? all he could do was to moan and shriek, trashing about on the bed as something deep and long slithers inside him. his cunt was being fucked open, wet sounds coming out as he gushes all over your mouth, tongue and chin. fluids dribbling down to your chin as you continue to force his legs open with your tail, arms wrapped around his waist and pulling him back into your mouth and fingers.
by the time you thought of him as prepped enough and pull your tongue and fingers out, blade could only weakly whine at the feeling of something pulling out of his warm insides. legs shaking, face flushed as dried tear stains cover his cheeks. his pretty red eyes looked so hazy, mind filled with cotton and statics. you haven’t even gotten to the main part yet!
blade feels something wrap around him. something bigger, warmer and gentle. clawed hands wrapping around his slender waist, pulling him against a massive frame. was this… was he on your real form right now?
tilting his head back to look at you, his hunch proves to be correct. no longer were you in your small human disguise. large, pale white figure with horns, tail and claw holding him in a safe cocoon in it’s embrace. despite having deep hatred against your kin, the priest couldn’t bring himself to hate you. instead, he oddly found your real form beautiful.
“huh…?” his thought gets cut off short when he feels something poke at his entrance. looking down, a sharp gasp escapes him. by the gods were you huge. girthy and long, thick with need and ready to fill him to the brim with your seeds. blade wasn’t sure if he could take such a large thing inside himself as he instinctively shut his legs close.
almost as if sensing his inner worries, you place a hand over his stomach, other hand spreading his legs wider to make it easier for you to slip in.
“don’t worry, pet. i’ll make sure it fits” your deeper, almost inhuman voice hums right beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine. although your words were soothing, the large tip of your cock pushing past his walls, opening his cunt wider was definitely not comforting. fuck, just the tip inside and blade was already thrashing about, shaking his head and stuttering out how he can’t fit it inside him.
“w-wait! w-won’t hhgh fit! ish too big! too bigtoobigtoobig—! m-my lo—oough! aanh! ish t-too fu-uck! big♡︎♡︎” the human squeals, cries, sobs and moans. loud lecherous noises coming from both his mouth and cunt. wet noises flooding the room alongside the low grunts and deep growls. you sounded inhumane, you felt inhumane but blade loved it all the more. the priest loved being spread open by your large cock, pushing past his hole, feeling his plushy walls and insides. ah, he could die happily filled to the brim like this.
finally, after long minutes of slowly easing yourself inside, you managed to fit your cock inside him. snug to the brim, tip kissing his cervix and making blade squeal. legs shaking and twitching, he came on your cock again at the feeling of your tip kissing his cervix. he saw that you were big but not this big! gods, he felt so damn full.
“so pretty, my mate. so full of me and i haven’t even fucked you properly yet” you grunt, deep, inhumane voice breathing by his ear and making him shake and twitch in your grasp like a sweet fawn. blade wouldn’t mind being a sacrificial lamb to you.
through tear stained eyes and blurry vision, he could make out the faint outline of your cock in his stomach. you were too big to the point your were causing a bulge inside him by just slipping your cock inside. how full would he feel after you have properly made him a baby momma? cunt weeping out a mixture of your cum, belly bulging so cutely. just the imagination of such action made blade buck his hips weakly. too fucked out to even utter a word.
feeling the pathetic excuse of movement of your cock, you let out a low laugh. tail wrapped around one of his legs, the other held open by your hand as you finally bounce him on your cock. slowly, slipping yourself in and out and yet the priest in your hand was sobbing as he blabbers deliriously about being fucked dumb on your cock. of having your babies inside his own womb. of being your sweet mate.
blade was a big guy. in human terms and physique wise, he was big. and yet in your lap, held open by your hands, back to your chest as he allows himself to be dumbed down on your girth made blade realize just how damn small he was compared to you. sure, he was big in human terms but compared to you, he was absolutely nothing. just a small hole for you to use. a fleshlight to be filled with your cum until you were satisfied. your baby momma to have his chest fondled and squeezed until his chest grows sore and heavy. milk leaking out it small globs from his sensitive pink nipples.
“my pet. my cute mate. my sweet other half. my adorable breeding bitch uhng… so fucking tight. so warm and tight like the cute little thing you are” blade could briefly hear you groan, heavy breaths falling on his neck, making him shiver at each breaths. making him cry and moan in a shrill voice like a girl each time your cock slid inside him. plunging deeper into parts he never knew before, grazing that one soft spot that made him shriek, tip hitting his cervix at each thrust. blade was so sure that it was bruised now. not that he minded it, the pain felt good to him.
“y-yours—! yours yours yours! your c-cute ma—aaanhg! aaanh haagh gyaaamf♡︎ y-your mate. your oouungh other half. y-your adorable♡︎ breeding bitch—!” blade’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, head throwing back to your shoulder when he felt your hand press on the bulge in his stomach. it felt good. so good that he immediately squirted on your cock again at the sheer pleasure the pressure brought.
but of course you wouldn’t stop. you would keep going, forcing his small body to bounce on your cock, occasionally tweaking his nipples, rolling his clit between your fingers. you were damn adamant on making him pregnant, breed him until you were damn sure he was knocked up.
he was yours. your human. your mate. your fated other half. your cute breeding bitch and you would be damned all over again if he ends up not getting pregnant by the time you’re done. blade was yours. no one else would ever take him away from you. no one. no one no one no one, no one else—
“AAANGH! M-MY LORD♡︎ c-cock giick! sho full…” the human shrieks and twitches in your grasp, legs weakly thrashing around as you finally cum deep inside him. the warmth of your seed spurting inside his gummy walls, painting his insides white causing blade to cum again. blade felt so full, the skin of his stomach stretching a bit to accommodate to the great amount of cum that was inside him. it felt so warm and sticky. messy, as it dribbles down your shaft, his small human body unfit to keep it all inside himself.
“my cute mate…” you purr softly, arms wrapping around your mate as he twitches and shakes. cheeks stained with old and new tears, jaws slack with drool dribbling down with his face as red as his eyes. he was yours now. blade was your human now. the weird priest was yours and no one would ever take him away from you.
“mine” with that final declaration, you placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. he seemed to relax at the kiss, sinking against your chest as he black out. that was fine. you’ll make sure to breed him again once he wakes up.
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crystallinestars · 5 months
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How They React to Your Death
My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.
This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.
Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley
WARNING:
Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.
Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.
MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.
Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.
Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism
🎧 Alhaitham
Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.
Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.
When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.
At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.
What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.
No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.
During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.
Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.
What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.
🐋 Childe
You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.
The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.
He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.
Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.
Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.
Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.
Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.
🔍 Heizou
Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.
To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?
The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.
His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.
After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.
Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.
The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.
Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.
🍷 Kaveh
Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.
A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.
Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.
The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.
Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.
Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.
It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.
Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.
Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.
🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.
Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.
Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.
You were dead.
Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.
Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.
He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.
Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.
Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.
⚖️ Neuvillette
You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.
When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.
It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.
When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.
That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.
Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.
Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.
However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.
Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.
🍃 Venti
Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.
Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.
Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.
Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.
Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.
Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.
In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.
Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.
During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.
Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.
☂️ Wanderer
You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.
Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”
He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.
Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.
He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.
He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?
You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.
Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.
It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.
Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.
Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.
Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.
🐺 Wriothesley
You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.
Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.
When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.
There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.
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eff-plays · 8 months
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There's one convo with Astarion that's one of my favorites that I haven't seen mentioned or discussed yet happens (I assume) if you have high approval with him but play a good-aligned character. (This is at 60+ approval, start of Act 2.) It's probably because it's not a romantic cutscene so it doesn't get mentioned as much as the others (or because he's racist in it and some of y'all don't like to acknowledge that he has character flaws), but I think it's vital to his character and to explain his early relationship with a good-aligned Tav.
I would like to break it down a little, step by step. Because we are all cringe here.
First, he claims to feel a connection between Tav and himself, and the reason for this is because he believes he's identified "ambition" in Tav (and I'll explain why he's wrong later, but that's mostly headcanon territory, so we'll ignore it for now).
But, there's also clearly something holding Tav back from realizing their full potential, which is their naivete.
"Just that you ... have a big heart. You like doing what's right."
(The animations and voice acting here make him look and sound so fucking condescending, 10/10.)
However, Astarion doesn't tell them this is wrong, or that he disagrees. He implies it's a flaw, but doesn't state it outright. That's dangerous territory, see, and might predispose them to get defensive and reject what he has to say next.
No, he tries (and fails in my case, but it's cute that he tries, bless him) to manipulate Tav by appealing to that big heart of theirs.
"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face-to-face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads."
"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil."
See what he's doing? You like doing what's right, so what would be the right thing to do? We can keep ourselves safe. Liberate the world from evil.
It's very blatant, but he's trying to appeal to Tav's good nature by framing his questionable ideas as something that will benefit the greater good, something that's morally righteous that they would agree with.
And of course, it's incredibly funny when you ask how he thinks you'll do that, and he fumbles and admits he's not a "details person," but it's also revealing.
He thinks he's found in Tav ambition, when all he's actually found is ability. Tav exercises power proficiently, while Astarion does not. If he had the authority they have, he'd let ambition drive his actions, which is why he assumes that's what drives Tav when they exercise their power. A good-aligned Tav has very little ambition, I'd argue, but they have plenty of opportunity to exercise their power, which they do when their hand is forced.
So what Astarion is saying is, in effect, hey, you have power, I have ambition. Will you please use your authority/ability to do what I want? Here's how it'll totally be for the greater good, I prommy.
This is brilliant writing, and I really applaud Larian for managing to walk that fine line of making Astarion so sympathetic while he's literally trying to manipulate the player character. Because when I first got this convo, my thought was both "wow, I adore how blatant and terrible his manipulation attempts are, it's kind of endearing" and "he's so terrified, it's genuinely quite tragic."
If we control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe. This works only somewhat as an appeal to good-aligned Tav, because it could also potentially sound very selfish, especially if Tav is the self-sacrificing sort. So notice how, when he says "liberate the world from evil", it sounds kinda tacked-on, an afterthought designed to bury his main goal, which is keep "ourselves" (i.e. himself) safe. Like, yes, this will keep us/me safe, but if you're not into that, then it'll totally help the world, too! It doesn't quite work, because he still sounds ironic and like he doesn't believe they'd be liberating anything from any evil (work that 10 Charisma, boy), but that's the intent, I think.
Does he want power for power's sake? Yes. Is he gleefully powerhungry? Absolutely. But he's also fucking terrified, and that slips through just a little bit, even behind the smug and confident facade.
He's trying to get Tav, whom he's seen exercise their power over others, to lend some of it to him, so that he may never fear anything ever again.
All of this from a short, smug convo where he admits he's too stupid to figure out how to fulfill his dreams of world domination.
God tier characterization, 10/10.
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donatellawritings · 27 days
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“a’ight, now look directly into this camera and tell us your name, age, and where you’re from,” the cameraman speaks, his gold-ring clad hand carefully adjusting the zoom of the lens on the expensive camera as you sit on the crème colored couch with a cheesy smile, your swollen lips all glossed and glittery.
letting out a nervous giggle, you flip your blown out hair over your shoulder, gently adjusting your barely there skimpy bikini top to cover your hard nipples, “uh, you can call me angel,” you bat your cat-like lashes, before mushing your glossed lips together with a ‘pop’, “m’twenty-one, and i’m from carolina, puerto rico,” you seal with another shaky laugh, swallowing thickly as you steal a quick glance at the man behind the camera, he was a bit older than you, and very handsome — you couldn’t help but be a silly little school girl.
with a feigned-defeated sigh, the cameraman zooms in on your plump breasts, earning a wide grin from you as you playfully shimmy, allowing your perky tits to jiggle, “puerto rico, huh?” he chuckles, licking over his pink lips as you swiftly run your acrylic-nails finger across the pink-heart shaped pendant that dangled from your bellybutton piercing, “so fuckin’ pretty,” he comments, trailing the camera down to your lower half, focusing on the way the plush curves of your thighs and ass swallowed the flimsy fabric of your tiny boy shorts.
with a clearing of his throat, the cameraman brings the camera back up to your pretty little face, “is this y’first time getting fucked on camera, angel?” he asks, his voice heavy in greed as you nod immediately, “fuck — why don’t y’bend over for me and show me that cute little ass of yours,” he beckons, his eyes hanging low as you obediently stand from the couch.
you couldn’t ignore the goosebumps that rose on your skin as you turned away from the camera, before pulling your the thin cloth further up your fat ass cheeks, before bending over with a muffled giggle as you bit down into the chunk of your bottom lip, “look at that,” the cameraman ogled, letting out a throat groan as his warm and calloused hand suddenly cupped your asscheek, gently jiggling the supple skin.
“y’like it?” you questioned, glancing over your shoulder, letting out a surprised gasp as the cameraman’s hand abruptly slapped down onto your ass.
“i love it, angel— m’gonna open you up a bit, yeah?” he informs you, his eyes squinted as he crouches down onto one knee, carefully angling the camera lens at the crease where your puffy pussy and tight asshole met.
your nails slowly dug into the fabric of the couch as the cameraman’s thumb curled into your skin, pulling your asscheek apart, leaving your wet and eager holes exposed to the cold air conditioned environment of the casting room. you failed to hold back a low mewl as the tip of his thumb grazed over your glistening pussy.
“fuuuck, she’s so pretty,” he cooed, jiggling your asscheek once more, before standing firmly on his two feet as he closed the distance between you two, his jean-covered bulged pressed firmly against your ass, “y’gonna be a star, y’know that, angel?” he praises, holding the camera impressively still with one hand as he undoes the button of his jeans with the other, seamlessly slipping his hand under the waistband of his briefs as he releases his firm cock from its confines.
cutely, you wiggled your hips, your pouty lips plagued with a coy smile as your ass brushed against the flushed cameraman’s erect cock. your cute little act quickly came to a halt as he locked his hand around the dip of your waist, pushing his hips closer into you as his dick laid perfectly atop of your ass. a cocky chuckle left the man’s throat as he measured his dick, his mouth watering at how his tip surpassed the top of your ass and rested on your lower back.
your bambi eyes widened at the feeling of his length resting on you, your heart rate increasing as he pulled down your tiny shorts, revealing your bare ass and sweet pussy.
“m’gonna make you a star,” he huffed with a smile, before spitting a glob of warm saliva down the crack of your ass, lowering the camera to catch how it drooled down into your pussy, before tapping his flushed tip against your aching hole.
a squeaky moan left your lips as he slowly pushed into you, your sticky lips parted in pleasure as his flexed arm grips the the couch, your small hand closing over his forearm as the two of you let out satisfied moans. warmed tears were quick to brim around your waterline as he pushed his hips further into yours, the camera now close to your face.
“i love it,” you smiled, your lips stretch into a drunken grin as you pose for the camera, the sounds of the cameraman’s hips slapping into yours now muffled as you focused your fuck-me eyes on the camera.
you knew that you were always meant to be a superstar — no matter what it took, or who you’d meet along the way.
even if it was the eager cameraman who was fucking himself deep inside of you.
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rafecameroninterlude · 3 months
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader
summary: rafe surprises you on your birthday
warnings: best friends brother, sarah being the worst friend ever (what else is new?), crying, firting over the phone, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex
word count: 2.8k
a/n: i’ve seen your comments and ik y’all want reader to stick up for herself against sarah, so don’t worry that’s in the works!! i’ve been feeling a little sick but i’m going to try to keep up with requests as best as i can <3 mini series masterlist can be found here
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“is everything okay?” ignoring the fact that sarah just cancelled your plans, on your birthday, you refused to hang up the phone without getting a conversation that lasted less than two minutes. “w-what do you mean?” you heard the faint sound of someone laughing in the background, a door shutting loudly on the other line. “you’ve never missed any of my birthdays, and tonight you cancel after reassuring me all week that you’d see me? not to mention two weeks ago when we were supposed to go on the druthers, you said you’d be back home later, but you never showed.” you hated how you sounded like a concerned parent more than a friend, but right now you just wanted answers.
“everything is fine, y/n,” sarah scoffed, “i mean, seriously, i’ve just been busy, alright?” you don’t know if you should feel relieved that she’s fine, or hurt because she’s obviously not interested in talking to you right now. with ward, rose, and wheezie out of the house for the summer, there was no valid explanation as to why she goes days, sometimes weeks without being home. unless of course, rafe was right about her spending all her time on the cut. “have you been staying on the other side of the island?” you couldn’t help but ask, the question lingering in your mind since rafe mentioned it two weeks ago. “oh, my god! do i have to tell you everything? you’re worse than topper.” she hung up before you could say anything else.
what the fuck?
she’s acting as if she has never been like this before. was it a crime that you were worried about your best friend who you haven’t seen in three weeks? sarah once showed up to your house at three in the morning because you sent a crying emoji instead of a laughing one. it’s hard to think about, the person she was then, versus now. you felt your eyes stinging, your vision getting blurry as the tears threatened to overflow. god, this was pitiful. if someone told you that you’d be here, your hair and makeup done for the gods, holding back tears because of sarah, you wouldn’t believe them. the amount of things that have changed this past month was starting to crash down on you at once.
with sarah gone, and your parents away for their anniversary trip, the last thing you wanted to do was wander in a party by yourself. ultimately deciding to stay in for the night, you laid out your pajamas, about to unzip your dress before your phone rang. unknown caller. “hello?” there was a few beats of silence, “y/n?” your heart fluttered instantly. “hey, rafe.” you sniffled, trying to clear any indication that you’ve been keeping yourself from crying. “what are you doing tonight?” his voice turned rough. “i was just about to get in my pajamas.. why?” he cleared his throat, a small seed of hope burying itself in your chest. “let’s go to mine. i have something for you.” as if you couldn’t smile any harder, you could count on rafe to beat the odds. “what if i said no?” you teased, knowing you could never say that to him.
“then i’d have to go home to an empty house and no birthday girl to give birthday dick to.” you sighed dreamily, eyes glancing up at your ceiling. “aren’t you the gentlemen?” you got up, thankful to see that none of your makeup smudged. “so where are you right now?” you reapplied your lip gloss, running a brush through your hair for the final time. “outside your house.” you paused. “are you really?” you peeked outside your window, a black truck sitting out front. “i’ll be right out.” you hung up, screaming excitedly, grabbing your purse before making your way outside. rafe met you half way, picking you up and putting you in the passenger seat.
“you’re telling me you were about to change out of this?” his hands rested on your hips, your head leaning against the seat. “yeah, but i rather you take it off of me instead.” he smiled, pulling you into a kiss. “i rather do that too.” he shut the door, the car ride back to his house consisting of him making you laugh. “why’s it so dark in here?” rafe lead you upstairs, skipping past his room. “where are we going..” you stopped in your tracks. “ward’s room?” you shook your head, feeling like you were trespassing in some weird way. “don’t worry, keep walking.” he opened the doors to the balcony, the breath being sucked right out of your lungs.
a small cake with pink frosting and the number twenty in gold accents sat in a little box on top of the table, a vase full of your favorite flowers right next to it. “how..” you turned around, rafe rubbing his hands against his jeans. “i knew it was your birthday today, which explains the cake, and i may or may not have stalked your instagram highlights for any flowers i could find.” you blinked, throwing yourself in his arms. “this means so much to me, rafe. thank you.” you let out a shaky breath, your emotions getting the best of you once he pulled back to cup your face. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he sat you down, his eyes flickering between yours. “i just wasn’t expecting any of this, i’m just really grateful that’s all.” you smiled.
rafe nodded, pulling a small gift bag from under the table. “i really want to see you open this.” he placed the bag in your lap, giving you a reassuring nod when you looked at him. with shaky hands, you removed the pink tissue paper, a velvet box revealing itself at the bottom. rafe adjusted in his seat, his eyes frantically moving between you and the gift. “rafe..” you opened the box, immediately being met with probably the best gift you’ve ever received. “i’ve heard you talk about this a lot, so i figured why not?” he shrugged, “do you like it?” he watched you pick up the silver bookmark, the words ‘pretty girl’ imprinted in cursive lettering on the back.
“i love it..” you truly had no other words. placing it gently inside the box, you got up, rafe pulling you on top of him, both of you smiling into a kiss. how did he know how to do this? make you feel special and wanted and appreciated all at the same time? you deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing your thigh. “should we cut the cake?” you hummed, shaking your head, “let’s save it for after.” rafe pulled away. “after what?” his hand snaked around your neck, “after you give me birthday dick, your words.” you yelped when he suddenly yanked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside. “can i confess something?” he walked through the dark hallway, basically kicking open his room door.
you nodded, leaving a trail of kisses across his neck. once he laid you down, he took off his flannel, his biceps flexing under the small light emitting from his bathroom. “i’ve been reduced to fucking my hand every night since we had sex on the druthers. “all i could think about these past couple of weeks is how perfect you look under and on top of me,” he spoke quietly, “have you been thinking about it too?” his shirt was next to go, and the harder it was to resist from moaning at the sight of him. “yes,” you sat up, pulling him down to sit at the edge of his bed, “..that night replays in my head everyday.” settling between his legs, your fingers worked at getting his belt off.
“but the thought occurred to me one night;” you slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans, “you’ve tasted me already, but i haven’t tasted you.” as if on cue, you placed his belt next to him, using his knees to anchor yourself back on your feet. he groaned, watching as you moved your hair to the side. “take my dress off?” you turned around, unknowingly facing the mirror on his wall. without hesitation, he unzipped your dress, his eyes growing dark as he looked at your shared reflection. “nothing underneath?” this was a bold move for you, so you were more than happy to see how much he liked the idea of you walking around, ready for him to take you at anytime.
“nope, just wanted to save you the time.” you smiled, his hands cupping your tits, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. “we have all the time in the world.” he gently bit the skin of your neck, spinning you around. he pulled you down with him, your hips straddling his as you unbottoned his jeans. “i like your makeup,” rafe’s rubbed his palms on your thighs, “such a shame it’s gonna get ruined.” you smiled, rafe sitting up to kiss you roughly. kneeling on the floor, rafe held your hair back as you looked up at him, palming his cock through his briefs. “you gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he grunted, your eyes fluttering, “mhmm.” you hummed, rafe extending his hand out in front of your mouth.
“spit, baby.” he commanded. doing as he said, you laid your head on his lap, watching as he started stroking himself, both of you gazing at eachother with heated stares. “please, rafe.” he moaned, his head lolling to the side. he was still tugging on your hair, the stinging sensation shooting down your spine. he stood up, discarding the last article of clothing keeping you from being fucked into oblivion. you opened your mouth for him, a string of curse words tumbling out as his tip met your tongue. “oh, fuck,” be gritted his teeth. you straightened up, making sure to keep your eyes on his, a moan rumbling in your throat as he pushed further.
rafe licked his lips, his chest rising and falling as you started bobbing your head. if you had to be on your knees just to see the way he fell apart with your mouth alone, you’d do it all night if he asked you to. your eyes started to water, rafe smiling at the sight. “tap me if you need to.” he pulled out, thrusting back in once you nodded. fuck. your hands flew out, holding the back of his knees as he tugged at your hair, hard. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” his muscles constricted, your pussy clenching around nothing. the only word you could think of to describe the noises in this room was obscene.
heavy breathing, gasping and moaning, even an occasional whimper when you swallowed around his cock. “y/n-” he shook his head, his eyes rolling back just as you patted his leg. rafe stopped all movements, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop. “i don’t want you to cum yet,” you stood up, your knees beet red as he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. “yeah? want me to fill you up instead?” his words went straight to your core, a single tear drop rolling down your cheek. “yes.” your voice was hoarse as he laid you down, your arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him.
rafe teased your entrance before sliding between your folds, his cock rubbing against your clit. you shivered at the contact, your hips chasing his in order to get more friction. “it’s going to be hard to stop doing this, you know,” rafe looked down at you. “i wouldn’t care about sarah’s opinion on this, and i don’t think you should either.” he stared at you intensely as you pondered over his words. “you wouldn’t care about her opinion on us having sex? or..” your heart was racing, hoping he’d pick up on what you were insinuating. “well, that too, but i mean something more, more than us just sneaking around.” you met his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips.
“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” rafe laughed. “no- well, yes, but not formally yet, i want to do that the right way, not when you’re under me waiting for me to fuck you.” you bit your lip, nodding your head. you could never get used to how good his body felt on top of yours, your toes curling as he pinned down your thighs. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your temple, “this pussy was made for me.” rafe slammed into you once you settled into his sheets, a strangled cry ripping itself from your throat. it didn’t help that rafe was already filling you to the hilt, but watching his mouth fall open, and his eyebrows knit together was just as rewarding.
any concept of time was lost when you were with him, but you knew you didn’t want this to end. you loved how intimate rafe was, swallowing your moans with every kiss, massaging your thighs when he would thrust into you particularly hard, he was so good at this, you couldn’t even think straight by the time you were teetering the edge of pure bliss. “rafe, don’t stop.” you held onto his frame, his fingers circling your clit as you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “o-oh, my god,” you shook in his hold. “rafe!” you gasped. “i know,” he moaned, “fucking hell, i know.” his hips stuttered as he cummed, his eyes screwing shut while he emptied himself inside of you.
he took your lips, still thrusting slowly as he steadied you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. eventually he came to a stop, both of you laying under the sheets. “did you mean what you said earlier?” you rolled over, facing rafe as he sighed sleepily. “about being something more? yes.” you smiled as rafe took your hand in his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “should we go for that cake?” you asked. “that sounds so good right now.” both of you got up, sharing the sheets as cover, about to leave the room until your phone started ringing. rafe was quick to pick it up from the floor, his jaw ticking as he looked at the screen.
“who is it?” you reached out, rafe blocking your attempt to grab your phone. “it’s sarah.” he declined the call, tossing your phone on the bed behind him. “come on, let’s go get that cake.” he ushered you towards the door before you stopped him. “it’s nearly three in the morning, rafe. she could be in trouble.” he stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded his head. “alright.” he stepped away. you pressed sarah’s contact, putting the call on speaker. she picked up after the third ring. “y/n?” you knew that voice. after fourteen years of being best friends, you knew when she was crying, even when she wasn’t in front of you.
“what’s wrong sarah, are you okay?” you stole a glance at rafe, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i haven’t been a good friend, and i’ve been keeping so much from you, my family… topper, i can’t handle all the lies anymore.” you felt yourself growing with empathy, rafe taking hold of your arm. “don’t fall for that shit!” he whispered. “i didn’t even tell you happy birthday!” sarah sobbed, “please let me make this up to you.” you don’t know why, but you looked up at rafe, who was shaking his head. taking a deep breath, you racked your brain for what you should do.
the fact that you had sarah on the phone, while standing in rafe’s room, naked at that, you felt like you were betraying one of them with either answer you gave. if you told sarah yes, then it would be like a slap to the face for rafe, but if you told sarah no, you’d be throwing away a friendship that grew into a sisterhood over the years. “we could have a movie night. for old times sake.” she sniffled, your own tears starting to well in your eyes. “y/n.” rafe stroked your hair. this wasn’t easy, at all. “okay.” you regretted it as soon as you said it, rafe’s hand falling to his side. “okay, that sounds good.” it pained you to see the way rafe was looking at you right now.
“friday at eight?” you gave her a quick ‘yes, i’ll see you.’ hanging up shortly afterwards. “rafe-” he slipped into some shorts, walking out of the room without a word. there was no winning in this situation. you plopped down on the bed, still wrapped in rafe’s sheets as you sat in silence. after about five minutes, rafe walked in with two plates of cake. he handed you one, sitting down next to you. “i won’t hold it against you,” he spoke up, “i just wish you could see what she’s doing.” you licked some frosting off of your finger. “i’m sorry.” you leaned your head on his shoulder. rafe hummed, “don’t be. i’ll let you find out by yourself, and i’ll be there with an extra plate for you when you do.” he rubbed your thigh.
you laughed to yourself. “thank you.”
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tragedybunny · 8 months
Text
My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader
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Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.
“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.
There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.
Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.
“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.
“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.
“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.
“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”
The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.
Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.
With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."
It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.
The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.
"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.
“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.
An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.
“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.
Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.
That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”
A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.
“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”
He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Astarion…”
He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”
Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.
“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”
“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”
With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”
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huskersbooze · 2 months
Text
Who's in Control?
Alastor x Reader
| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)
Warnings : swear words
Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)
Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off
Word count : 1.8k
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"Good morning, dear."
"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.
"How was your sleep, darling?"
"It was good! And yours?"
"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."
The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.
-----
You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.
And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.
He was growing a soft-spot for you.
It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.
Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.
But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.
“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.
“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”
“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.
“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”
“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”
“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”
“Al and I are just friends.”
“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”
“Still, we're just friends-”
“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”
“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”
The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.
“He owns my soul..?”
“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”
“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”
You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.
But you were confused.
“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”
“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”
“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”
“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”
“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.
“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”
“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”
“About..?”
“What it means to sell your soul.”
“I know what it means, Al said-”
“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”
“Because you like your job..?”
“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”
“Who..?”
“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”
And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.
He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.
He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.
He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.
And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.
“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”
“Yup.” Angel nods.
“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”
“Exactly.” Husk replies.
“And there's no escaping this contract..?”
“No.” The two reply together.
“Fuck.”
-----
“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.
There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”
“You alright, kid?”
“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.
The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.
And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.
“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.
Everyone turns their attention towards her.
Everyone but Alastor.
He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.
How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?
But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?
He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.
Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.
“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”
“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.
Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.
“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.
“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.
“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”
“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?
“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”
“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.
Alastor stiffens, then laughs.
“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”
“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”
You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.
Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.
What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?
“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.
Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.
“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”
You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.
“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”
“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”
“Dear, please, listen to me..!”
“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”
He pauses.
“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.
-----
“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”
“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”
“About the deal?”
“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”
“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”
“No.”
“Well, why not?”
“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."
“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.
“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”
Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.
“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”
“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”
“I surely hope you're correct."
———/ TBC. /———
READ PART 2 HERE
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kingconia · 8 months
Text
TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH A READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST FROM THEIR STORIES
A/N: I didn't add Kalim or Jamil, because I feel their storyline is too much Aladdin & Jafar inspired already to do anything else with them.
Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️
— That was definitely a dislike from the first sight. He predicted you to be his future reason of headache as soon as the mirror sent you to the Heartslabyul;
— Riddle sees you as an air-headed fool, who only asks too many unnecessary things, daring to question the wishes of the Red Queen, instead of serving to your dorm as a proper student would do;
— You, from the other side, struggle with understanding what makes Riddle hate you so much. You were nothing but kind towards him, always suggesting to eat some sweets together, and trying to ask him to take a break from his studies to hang out with you or others;
— When he overhears that your signature spell makes you others to tell you the truth, Riddle is... Intimidated. He is afraid that you will use is against him, and so, he starts ignoring you more often.
”Housewarden acts like an asshole towards you, though.”
Riddle doesn't even need to think twice to recognise a loud voice of Ace Trappola, another troublemaker in his form. He knows that he should just give him a punishment and leave for a lesson, but instead, he hides in the nearest bush, waiting to hear the rest of the conversation.
”Oh, Ace. You are being rude,” you mutter softly, sighing at your classmate. ”Perhaps, a housewarden doesn't like me, but this feeling is not necessarily mutual.”
Riddle raises his brows in surprise. Why, though? He is aware that his attitude is nothing but awful when it comes to you. He doesn't have a proper reason for that, either.
”You should, really,” Ace rolls his eyes. ”Dude has a problem with you liking white. And what else? Being nice?”
That isn't true. He is fine with you liking white—though, he admittedly got frustrated when you asked him on your first day why painting roses red, if they are prettier when they are white—and being nice. He just considers you too naive for this world.
”I think, you are... Misjudging him.”
That is right, Riddle mutters mentally. Tell him, Y/n.
”I think, the reason why housewarden is so... Let's say, annoyed by me, it is because I am everything he grew up hating and being restricted with. And it is harder, when something you should never be interested in, is nice and interesting. I think, housewarden is just confused.”
He feels his cheeks blushing furiously.
What did you say—
”And I think you are just being delusional,” Ace chuckles, patting your shoulder softly. ”Now, please, let's get out of here. I want to find Deuce.”
Riddle listens to the sound of your rushing steps, but he can't care less about it now. All he can do, is to recite your words, again and again.
Does he really think you as a nice and interesting?
Yes.
Does it make him hate you even more?
No, but he wishes it could work this way.
Until now, though, he merely returns to his studies. Maybe, you can be honest with yourself and everyone, but this kind of thing is not for him at all.
Leona Kingscholar. 💛
— Leona didn't notice you at first. Honestly, never planned too, until you started to cling to him in some idiotic attempts to be... What? Friends?;
— You remind him so much of Cheka, but he actually likes his nephew deep inside. And your presence is absolutely insufferable;
— You are too childish and annoying, and all you do is sway your tail as you try to befriend him, while pretending that you actually like him. Leona knows you have ulterior motives. Stop lying to him!
— He finds it stupid how someone so moronic as you managed to pull out such an interesting signature spell. Manipulating dreams of others? How cruel.
”Stop doing that,” Leona hisses, digging in your wrist as you try to touch his hair. ”I am seriously going to kill you, if you keep doing this. Do you hear that?!
A few weeks ago—approximately since you figured out your magic—Leona started saw dreams. Very colourful ones, cheerful even. And each, with the same meaning: he becomes the king, and his family and people adores him.
He hates it.
And he hates you for doing that.
Because, of course, he doesn't need your fucking pity. Your condescension. Your gifts. He doesn't need to be mocked!
”Ah? Leona-sama, what is it?” You blink, confused.
”What is your problem, huh?” He hastily jumps on his legs, towering on you. ”Don't you have anything to do? Go and mind your business, brat!”
Your lostness shifts in sadness. You are not scared of him, you are never are—another proof that you don't take him seriously—but you dare to look at him like that. As a kicked puppy.
”What did I do?”
”Stop sending me these stupid dreams! I don't need your pity, do you hear me?!” He yells, still gripping your wrist tightly. ”Go and dream of your family or something, instead, would you?”
”I... I am sorry,” you mumble, and your eyes dart on the floor.
Leona closes his mouth, when realisation dawns on him. You don't have a family to dream about; you are an orphan. Yours, the previous crown family, were killed by his great predecessors.
He doesn't know why he feels bad, when you picked the fight first.
”I will never bother you again, Leona-sama. I apologise.“ You repeat, and your voice suddenly sounds numb.
That is not the sight of you he, or anyone else, was used to. Not a single emotion on your face. You just snatch your wrist from his hold, before leaving him alone as he asked to.
”You are such a jerk,” Ruggie whistles from behind, appearing almost from nowhere.
”Shut up.”
”You know that they can't send any control dreams, right?” He continues, hands on his hips.
”What?” Leona unwillingly turns head on his vice.
”Dunno, but they only can adjust if it is going to be nightmare or a good dream,” Ruggie yawns. ”They are just a first-year, so... It is your brain that decides where is where for now.”
Fuck.
Leona hisses furiously.
He is so fucked up.
Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵
— Oh, so this is love? He notices you in the crowd of other students, as you flinch from loud voices from dynamics, clearly knowing very little of this world, and he is amused. Someone is clearly more social awkward than he is;
— Azul thinks you don't like him that much, though, because you only wave at him, and when he once tried to speak, you merely nodded and smile all the time without answering him properly;
— It is until twins tell him that you don't have a voice. You were brought to this world completely mute, because of the family curse, and though you hear everything, your only way to communicate with others is writing. Or a sign language;
— But if anything gods blessed you is your magic. Everything you touch turns to gold, and that is actually the main reason why you were kept isolated over years. Azul is over heels for you now...
”I am glad that you took time to accept my invitation, Y/n.”
Azul locks his hands together, looking at you with unhidden excitement. He is always too nervous in your company—luckily, you can't read a room—but today is a special day.
You smile at him, instead of answering.
”The reason why I asked you to came here, it is because I have a deal for you,” he continues carefully, weighing his every word. ”Do you see that?”
He points with his finger at the middle of the table. There is very beautiful necklace with pearls and a little seashell, looking quite normal and mundane. You nod again.
”That is something that could break your curse,” he explains, enjoying the way your eyes widen in the poor shock. ”Yes, yes, you heard me right. With that, you could speak easily.”
Azul can't help but soften as you tear up instantly. There is a whole minute, when he fights an urge to give it to you for free, but... He built his reputation too long to break it so easily.
”But, of course, I will need something from you in return.”
You tilt your head in question.
”I...”
I need you to love me.
”...I need you to use your power for my business when it will be required.”
And with that, Azul quickly shoves another contract to you. You blink a few times, but there is no back thoughts in your head. Quickly, as if afraid that he will change his mind, you took the pen, and leave your signature on all places, where it was needed.
Ah... Angelwish, why are you so naive! It kills him! What if he tried to use you? You didn't even read a contract! You really should be glad that Azul loves you so much.
Before he realises that, you are already putting a necklace on yourself.
One second, two. Three.
You are staring at him.
”Well?” He asks, anxiously.
”A... Azul?”
His heart drops.
Your voice is amazing. And hearing you saying his name is even better than he expected. He blushes.
”Azul... Thank you?”
”S-sure.”
Seems, like it is his turn to be speechless...
Vil Schoenheit. 💜
— He originally had nothing against you... Until other students didn't start to call you the most beautiful person in the world, following you everywhere obsessively, and suggesting you to become the next housewarden;
— Vil now officially hates you. Each time you come to him ends up with short anger impulses that he hardly hides from you, and he wishes you could just disappear;
— He is quite... Cruel with you. He wants you to change your dorm, actually, so he desperately pushes you to the edge by giving you impossible tasks to fullfil, and turning others against you;
— And he thinks your signature spell, speaking and controlling animals is another proof that you should leave Pomefiore for Savanaclaw.
“I don't think you are stupid, un petit entraîneur.”
Vil narrows his eyes, leaning slightly forward from his balcony. The sight of his vice speaking with you—hunter's interest in you was his another concern—annoys him instantly.
”What do you mean, Rook?” There is a big cat in your lap, clearly another of your minions.
”You know that our dear housewarden wants you out of here,” he murmurs, moving closer to you. ”A fair exchange with Savanaclaw, I would say. He doesn't like you here.”
You sigh.
”I figured it out, trust me. He made it very clear by always putting me in dangerous situations and giving me outdated products for skin, making me look like a fool in front of others.”
You don't mention how he makes you clean dark and messy rooms of other students.
”Yet, you are not willing to give up?” Rook touches the strand of your hair curiously.
”You know, I actually liked him a lot,” you admit suddenly, patting the cat behind its ear. ”Vil was the world for me. I was so amazed by him. By how collected he was, how hard he worked. I was excited to become his student... I wished to show him what he is worthy of. That others see his hard work.”
Vil's breath hitches. He remembers you mentioning that you were his fan, but he punished you for this remark; he didn't need to be so violently degraded. But... Was it a truth, then?
”...It is in the past now. I witnessed his true colours, and I will not tolerate it,” your smile twists in something more vicious, a ghostly fondness leaving your pretty face. ”He doesn't need to be scared of me being better anymore. Because I am going to be so much worse.”
He shudders as he hears that, your voice cold, and eyes gleaming dangerously. And as if Rook addresses him, he sighs suddenly, with the strange excitement in his voice:
”Oh, mon doux karma. What had you done?”
Idia Shroud. 💙
— From the minute you open your mouth in his presence , Idia knows he will hate you desperately... It is not serious, though;
— You are unbelievably loud, and too cheerful, and too proud, and you are so self-centred? Also, a fucking bimbo. Idia has no idea why everyone so into you, and what you are even doing in Ignihyde! Go away!
— You annoy him so much, and he actually hates the way you try to befriend him and make him more normie! Stop be like that! You are not welcome!
— Idia is absolutely not impressed that your signature spell is an instant tactics creation. Fuck you, by the way.
“You do know, that doors exist, right?” Idia hisses, not even stopping his game to spare you some attention.
”I do!” You say, climbing through the window with a loud thud.
”Then, why don't you use them, idiot?!”
Idia has no the slightest idea why anyone, let alone you of all people—he means, since you genuinely think that it is healthy to spend all your time outside of the room—would want to become his friend. But here you are. Trying to befriend him for a month already.
”Because you never open the door, Idia-sama,” you shrug easily.
”Take a hint, maybe.”
You close the window behind yourself, taking place behind his chair. Putting elbows on it, you hum thoughtfully, glancing from Idia to the screen of the computer, where the game flashes on. Another few minutes, and familiar yelps fill the room:
”Shit!”
Game over.
”Idia-sama,” you frown, ”maybe, I can help you?”
Idia snickers, rubbing his tired eyes. As if.
”Have you ever played this game, even?”
”No,” you murmur shyly, scratching the back of your neck. ”But I am good at tactics. And it is combat game, correct?”
Idia ponders for a while. That is surprising, because... You are actually absolutely correct. For once.
”Sit down, first year,” Idia exclaims, suddenly excited. ”I am going to teach you how to play this game.”
You smile widely, doing as it was told.
Finally, you cracked the code! And they said you weren't for this dorm...
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— Of course, he missed you as the new student at first, since he forgot to arrive at the orientation day. But it is not that long as he starts hearing others praising you, Lilia especially;
— You are quickly becoming the part of the school life as everyone loves you, and calling you ’the heart of the school’. And while Malleus wants to befriend you, too... He also can't help but feel envious of how easy it is for you. The socialization;
— You are quick to fall asleep everywhere, much like Silver. And since Malleus can't find courage to speak to you, he wanders around, when you are asleep at the strangest places, instead;
— When the first overblot incident happens, your signature spell kicks in. To everyone's horror, it is absolutely terrifying. Your magic is about thorns. Thorns, that wrap around Riddle's weakened body, when he touches you. He almost dies. And the same thing happens with Ace, who accidentally brushes your skin. Now... Everyone shun you away.
”Hello, Malleus-sama,” you mutter, eyes sleepy as you look around. ”I apologise.”
Malleus doesn't quite mind you falling asleep in the class, where his gargoyle's researches are going currently. He is the only member, anyway. But he nods.
”I had never seen you here before,” he notices in a poor attempt of the small talk.
You shrug.
”There is no other students here. And it is better for me not to show up around them.”
What a familiar thinking process... Somehow, he finds it easier: to approach you know, when you are not everyone's favourite anymore.
”I see. You can stay, then. I am not welcomed by them either, so no one is going to enter this classroom.”
You offer him a smile. It is short, strained at the edges, but still sweet. Malleus thinks he understands how you so easily charmed others in the last months; you are much like sunshine, when you are happy. It is a shame you are not, anymore.
”You know, Malleus-sama, I always wanted to become your friend,” you admit suddenly, making him open his eyes in surprise. ”And, I think, you wanted to be mine friend, too.”
You? Why would someone like you want to have him as your friend?
”And why would you think that?”
You fold arms on your chest slowly.
”You are always here, when I am sleeping,” Malleus feels blush touching the tips of his pointy ears. You elaborate. ”I am not sure people realise, but I sleep too much not only because I am lazy, but also because I feel surroundings better like this. I remember everything I hear in my sleep, and I do feel if someone is around.”
Ah. So, that is the secret of yours. And he wondered how you master in all your classes, when you sleep all the time...
”...I see,” Malleus mutters, ashamed. ”I apologise, then.”
He reminiscences of how often he whispered you some nonsense when you slept—childish complaints about how he hates you for being so easily loved by others, random poems that came to his mind as he sat down by your side, stories from his childhood—and feels like disappearing in the shame wouldn't be that bad.
”You know, Malleus-sama, you and I... We are not so different. We both do what we have to do to keep our loved ones to ourselves,” you sit down on the couch beside him slowly. ”But it leads only to one thing.”
Malleus gazes at you curiously as you suddenly curl on his lap, much like a cat. Your eyes met as he helps you to settle more comfortably.
”To destiny?” He asks aloud, tilting his head.
”To pain.”
There is a beat of silence in which your smile suddenly appears to be more bitter, less serene. Malleus doesn't know what happened with you in details, and how awfully these changes in your reputation affected on you, but he can say that it was hard.
”Now, if you don't mind, and I believe, you don't, Malleus-sama, I would like to dream a little bit.” You warn him, already closing your eyes, not really waiting for the answer.
Still, Malleus nods. Though that is not something you can see.
”Sleep, then... Beastie,” he sighs, patting your hair gently.
You snicker, before your breath slows down, alarming that you completely drifted off.
Malleus stares at you openly now.
Ah, who would've thought? He had finally made a friend.
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Part two with Leona & Vil is here.
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missroki · 2 months
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JJK MEN WANTING TO GO ANOTHER ROUND!
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content: female reader × multi jik, black girl friendly, piv sex, vaginal fingering, doggy, anal play, cunnilingus, breeding kink, reader is called sweetheart, my love, pretty girl, and baby. TOJI, GOJO, NANAMI, GETO.
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TOJI presses your temple to the blessedly cool sheets, your palms trying their best to find purchase to lift yourself up. you don’t get far before he pins you harder into the mattress. your hands twitch instinctively, longing to trace the plains of muscle and veins that grace his skin.
“be careful, sweetheart,” his voice rumbles, deep and heavy like an impending storm. “almost thought you were trying to get away from me.”
you reply with a sharp intake of breath, your cunt throbbing at the promise of more. excitement makes you burn with unfiltered desire, unable to ignore the sticky wetness between your thighs. toji continues to push his cum back inside your hole in shallow thrusts. it is an act of mercy compared to what you know will come next.
“t-toji, please, go slow.” your voice is hoarse from your screaming, but pleading all the same.
your boyfriend (if you could call him that) keeps close to your back, breathing along the prickling hair at the nape of your neck. a hand reaches down to rub your sensitive clit and the sensation makes you jump, but it only pushes him in deeper. the wet sounds of your cunt are embarrassing in this too quiet room.
“you worried?” toji murmurs, his mouth against your sweat-slick neck. “thought you’d get off easy tonight after that stunt you pulled?”
the scar on his lip curls as toji thinks about you grabbing him through his pants at dinner. such a naughty little girl, always needing more. you shiver as he presses down on your back, forcing you to arch higher for him. “don’t worry, pretty girl. i’ll make sure to kiss it better.”
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NANAMI gazes up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, sweat making strands of his blonde hair stick to his forehead. you continue to grind down on his spent cock, moaning as a frothy ring of cum gathers at his base. the sight is sinful as you come down from your orgasm, but it’s not enough to mask the overstimulation from your constant twitching and writhing.
pushing through the sudden sensitivity, strong hands reach up to grip your hips, forcing you to stay still as a shiver runs down his spine. “you are insatiable.” nanami breathes, leaning his head back to rest on a pillow. “but if we keep going, i won't have anything left to give you.”
you whine petulantly, running your manicured nails down his chest and tweaking one of his nipples as you go. nanami growls your name in a stern warning.
“kento,” you whimper, “why so grumpy? i just want to make you feel good. they say third time’s a charm.”
one of his hands reach down to palm your ass, gripping the soft skin firmly as he imagines it littered in red handprints. “i see. was the first time not charming enough for you?”
“no, and i believe you’ve done better, actually.”
he scoffs at your obvious lie, the dry tear streaks on your face enough proof that you are trying to push his buttons. in a move that makes your head spin, you’re lifted up and flipped onto your back, legs forced to fold you almost in half.
the man above you runs the sensitive tip of his cock along your slit, watching as streams of his cum spill out now that he’s not keeping it plugged inside.
“then i must be having issues with my memory,” he murmurs, a cold sweat running down your stomach as he eases his weight onto your chest. “let me demonstrate so that i can jog yours.”
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GOJO has always been… overzealous. satisfaction doesn’t come easy when instant gratification is all you know; being handed anything you desire with no questions asked. it is something he is well aware of, but that he chooses to ignore on most days. and though he loves you dearly, it is nice to see you squirm, to feel your hand push his head away half heartedly as you beg for some reprieve.
but gojo satoru always wants more, and his thirst for you isn’t something that can be easily quenched. his hands grip your hips to hold you firmly in place as you gasp and pant on too-damp sheets. his lips press into the darkened skin of your inner thighs, blush pink and gentle as he speaks. “fuck,” gojo breathes out, “you taste so good, baby. you’re gonna give me one more, right?”
you whimper as his thumb presses against your swollen clit, tears falling down your cheeks. “i-it’s too much, ‘toru. n-need a break.”
he grins up at you, voice heavy with desire as his thumb moves against your clit just how you like it. “you cryin’? i make you feel that good?”
you can tell by the look in his eyes that he enjoys this, teasing you so brazenly. he can tell by the look in yours that you love it. “please,” you whimper, gripping his white strands firmly. “i want you inside.”
if your boyfriend was smiling before, he’s absolutely beaming now. “well, since you asked so nicely.” gojo tugs down his sweats so that they rest under his balls, cock standing proud with the tip dripping pre onto your stomach. he runs the length of his cock on your pussy, a long finger reaching down and pressing ever so cheekily to your ass hole. you squeal but he holds you in place.
“satoru!”
“what’s wrong?” he asks with feigned innocence and too smug grin, “i thought you wanted me inside?”
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GETO’s brows furrow at the sight beneath him, a small tsk leaving his mouth as he watches his cum spill from you in thick globs, soiling the bed in a mixture of both of your juices.
his fingers lift and thrust his cum back inside of you, grazing your sensitive walls as he makes sure to fill you with as much of him as possible. his thumb idly teases your clit, aftershocks making your legs jelly-like and loose.
you recognize this look in his eye; know that he is displeased in his inability to keep you plugged full of him. “su, baby. you fill me up so well.” you reach up to push his bangs back from his face, the long strands carrying over his shoulder and exposing the deep bruising you left on his neck.
lifting your leg, your husband bites gently on the back of your thigh and eases the ache with a gentle suck. he savors the way you whimper as a crescent shaped mark blooms on your skin. “i’ll make sure to get you pregnant, my love. it’s about time that nana and miko had another sibling, don’t you think?”
you chuckle, lifting a brow as he continues to worship your skin. “you’re very convincing, but i doubt you’ll be able to knock me up when i’m still on the pill.”
as if he didn’t hear you, you feel geto reposition your body in the bed, pressing you firmly into a mating press. you gasp, the room darkening as his hair encloses you both in a curtain of black. “well, that won’t do,” geto murmurs, looking down at the mess between your thighs and tapping the tip of his length against your entrance, “let me try again, yeah?”
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MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.
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bunniesanddeer · 2 months
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Touch Pt 2
Alastor x GN!Reader
Part One
Plot: Alastor talks to Charlie about his problem, sort of. Then he settles the situation with Reader.
Tags: GN! Reader, fluff, angst, minor pining, short fic.
Word Count: 1,591
Touch Pt. 2
It was Charlie that came to get him. He had neglected to make dinner or even tell the others that he wasn’t going to make it that night. Charlie had knocked on his door, her rhythmic knock ever-so recognizable, and leaned her head just inside. 
“Hey, Al? You alright, in there?” He could see her eyes flit about, before landing on him. “We were worried about you.”
Alastor just hummed, disinterest coloring his face. He was sitting at a small table just across the border of the original room and his swamp, sipping a cup of coffee, and reading. 
Charlie, seemingly ignoring his clear show of indifference, stepped further into his room, shutting the door behind her. 
“Don’t worry about dinner. Angel begged for us to just order pizza instead. Something about ‘junk food healing the soul’, or whatever,” Charlie continued, making her way towards Alastor. Although her hands fiddled with each other, she kept her voice steady. Charlie was getting better at hiding her nerves around Alastor. (He could almost say he was proud, but that would be inane!) “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Charlie said your name, and Alastor’s ear perked, on their own accord. “They mentioned you seeming off earlier, but didn’t want to bother you.”
“I can assure you that I am fine, dear. I don’t know what silly thoughts they’ve put in your head, but everything is fine,” Alastor said, trying to keep his smile wide. When he finally looked at Charlie, he realized she hadn’t believed a word he’d said. How ridiculous! There was nothing wrong! She should just take his word for it, and leave. 
“I don’t know. You do seem bothered by something.” Charlie made her, ridiculous, thinking face, before nodding to herself. She promptly sat herself in the seat opposite Alastor, and folded her hands on the table. “You should talk about it. It’s not good to let these things bottle up.”
Alastor nearly dropped his smile so he could glare at her. How absolutely ludicrous! He had nothing to talk about! And even if he did, he had nothing he would willingly tell Charlie. “There is nothing to talk about. Please leave.”
Charlie cocked her head, and narrowed her eyes. She said your name, again, watching his ears twitch. “This is about them, isn’t it! You’ve been acting weird around them recently. Always staring at them.”
Alastor gritted his teeth, trying to hold his composure. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“HA! It is! You would never respond like that if it wasn’t.” Charlie smiled smugly, and Alastor wanted to claw her face off. He couldn’t, but it was an entertaining thought. He could turn her skin into ribbons, and use them to gift-wrap things for Rosie. “Come on, what’s going on? You didn’t have a problem with them before.”
Alastor hesitated. He could try and pry information out of Charlie, if he let himself be a tiny bit honest. He sighed, and set down his book and mug. “Alright, I’ll tell you a little, but! I have a question first.”
Charlie gave him a suspicious look, but she acquiesced with a nod. 
“Why are they suddenly all… touchy with everyone? You mentioned some time ago that they don’t like being touched, but that seems to have changed, rather out of nowhere,” Alastor said, trying to keep his motivation for the answer hidden. He watched as Charlie’s face flooded with multiple emotions, before settling on something soft. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it made his skin crawl. The deer-demon hoped that expression had nothing to do with him. 
“Ah. Yeah. I meant to explain that when they talked to me about it recently, but I completely forgot,” Charlie sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “They’re touch averse, but when they get comfortable with people, especially good friends, it’s something they start to… hmm what is the word I want to use… They kind of start to crave it. Touch is something they don’t get a lot of, so when they are comfortable with someone, they’ll initiate a lot of it. So now that they’re settled into the hotel, and know all of us well enough, they’re more comfortable.”
He had never considered something like that before. You would get lonely, wouldn’t you? You were a very outgoing soul, but sequestering yourself from others would get hard after a time, wouldn’t it? The more Alastor thought about it, the more it made sense. You had been there quite a while once you started to get tactile with the others. But still, it didn’t make sense that he would be excluded! You were always so nice to him! You sometimes sought him out for conversation. Was he too overbearing sometimes? Alastor’s mind slightly spiraled, the longer he thought about it. 
“You alright there, Al?” Charlie’s voice interrupted his mental descent with a rough jerk. “Does your problem have something to do with that?”
Alastor looked away from the princess, trying to contain his thoughts down enough so he could tell her without giving it all away. But the idea of you fearing him or something of that nature made his stomach churn. He couldn’t think straight.
“Then why not me?”
Alastor didn’t realize he had spoken until Charlie’s eyebrows popped up. “Oh. Oh geez.” Her face scrunched in guilt. “That might be my fault.”
A screech interrupted the soft static that played around Alastor. “What?”
Charlie’s eyes flitted about, uncomfortable with the weight of Alastor’s glare. “Yeah. I mentioned, pretty early on to them, that you also don’t like being touched. That sometimes you might touch others, but you didn’t like it.”
Alastor cupped his forehead in one hand, and glared down at the table. “Are you kidding me?”
“Ah, no. I’m pretty sure that’s it. They’re pretty good about keeping boundaries, so they might have been trying to make sure you were comfortable,” Charlie muttered. She cupped her face in her hands, melting into them with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Al. I can totally go talk to them for you. If I had known this was a problem, I would never…”
Alastor tuned out Charlie’s ramblings. This whole thing had been a misunderstanding. Somewhat. It was true, he didn’t like being touched, most of the time. However, he did not like being left out of things without being consulted! It should have been up to him to draw that line. Alastor huffs to himself, and decides he will simply talk to you, himself.
He abruptly stands from his chair. “Alright then! I’m off to go talk to the little darling! I will straighten this out myself, Charlie.” Without another word, or even bothering to make sure she left his room, he took off towards your room.
He knocks twice, and waits patiently. Alastor hears a few thumps, and is glad that you’re inside. Much better to have this conversation in a private place, rather than out in the open!
The door creaks open, and there you are! You smile up at him. “Hi, Alastor. What can I do for you,” you ask. 
Ha! What could you do for him? (What couldn’t you do? No. He wasn’t going to continue thinking.)
“Hello, my dear! I was hoping you had a moment, so we could talk! Hopefully, inside?” He gestures towards the inside of your room, and, although you hesitate, you nod. You open the door wider, and let him in.
“What’s up?” You ask. (He would never get over how strange slang and expressions got in recent years. At least he could understand most of them now. It used to be hard to understand younger souls).
“Ah. I was hoping to clear up a misconception that you might have.” Alastor leans down, leaving a few inches of space between your faces. Your eyes widen, just slightly, in surprise, but he is pleased to see you hold your ground. “I do not always mind being touched. I have, in fact, noticed you actively avoiding touching me.” Alastor leans back, suddenly, placing a hand over his heart. “And oh, does it hurt, dearest!”
He says it as if it’s a joke, (it isn’t), and it is, but he dislikes being singled out in matters as trivial as these! Your brows furrow, but you still give him a smile.
“Ah, dang, Al. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you. I just thought you didn’t like that kind of stuff.” You smile wider, your tone turning silly. “I’ll make sure to include you in all our group hugs now!”
Alastor’s brows flatten, and his ears pin back, just slightly. “Please don’t.”
Your eyes close as you smile and laugh. You take a hand and cover it up. (Alastor wants to pull it down. One should never hide their smile. He doesn’t, though). He feels a weight, that he hadn’t noticed, lift from him at the sight. 
When you put a hand on his arm and squeeze, softly, it feels right. He says little more, just a ‘good night’. When he finally deigns to make himself dinner, he lets the joy finally saturate his body. What a delightful feeling!
He enjoys the next several days, where he realizes how many little touches you give him. If he preens beneath them, or his smile grows wider, or his tail wags, no one notices. Much better that way. No one needed to know. 
Much less you, with your soft smiles, and happy laughter. 
Not knowing would always be the better option.
Taglist:
I have no idea how to do one of these! I apologize if it doesn't work! Also, some of the names aren't working, when I try to tag, so I am sorry if you are listed, but it didn't work??
@wpdarlingpan @cxrsedwxrlds @littledolly2345 @angelofthorr @nkirukaj @hazelfoureyes @teh-vampire-bunny @fairyv-ice @ittoehurt @poppingaround @mysterypotatoink @viridiya @xalygatorx @viviannagiorgini
ALSO
Thank you?? I wasn't expecting the response that I got from everyone! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I squee'd out loud when I saw how many people had read my silly little fic. Also, if you have left an ask, I am working on it, I promise! I just have a very crazy schedule.
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Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]
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[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )
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Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.
No one could deny that.
Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.
You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.
From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.
Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.
Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.
If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.
Why?…
In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.
Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.
You were his darling from the very beginning…
His everything…
Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,
The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.
A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.
You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.
The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.
“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”
“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”
“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”
“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”
You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.
He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.
Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.
Cared for you…
Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.
Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.
Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.
Not even on your wedding day.
It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.
You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.
Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?
Was he seeing someone else?
Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?
Was she prettier?
Were you not his kind of woman?
Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…
Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?
Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?
Were you not enough for him?
Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.
Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.
He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.
Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.
You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.
What had upset his darling wife?
Who would he have to kill?….
Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.
He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.
Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.
“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.
Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.
“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.
“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.
Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”
You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.
Fake it.
I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…
It might push him further away…
The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.
Something was wrong.
He was sure of it now.
His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.
A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.
“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.
The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.
“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.
Nothing.
You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.
Had you planned on this?
Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?
All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…
Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.
Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.
“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”
Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.
“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.
Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.
“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.
His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.
“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.
Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.
“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.
Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.
You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.
The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.
Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?
No , it couldn’t be…
You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.
“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.
“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.
The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.
If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.
He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.
You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.
Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”
You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.
“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.
What?….How in the world did he do that?…
Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.
“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.
“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.
Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.
Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…
Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.
Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.
It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.
It was all too much at once….
Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.
“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.
He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”
His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.
You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.
“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.
All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.
His darling wife…
His one and only….
It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.
You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.
A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.
“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.
He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.
“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.
“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.
He knew it too…
That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…
Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..
“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.
You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”
Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.
“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”
Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.
“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.
All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.
“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”
His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.
You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.
Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on
“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.
“More than anything?…”
“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.
That was when it occurred to you…
Alastor Hartiflet could love…
He’d always been able to….
And he loved you enough to share it with another…
How surreal….
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx
This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.
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abbyscherry · 3 months
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please keep unfollowing me. you stay silent, you are complicit with what’s happening. i don’t want fake ass friends.
to the ones who would rather ignore it and the ones who just don’t fucking care; you’re pathetic. you’re disgusting, and i wish i didn’t know you.
i feel sick to my stomach. i’m sick to my stomach. disgusted even by the fact you’re blatantly ignoring a genocide. scrolling past videos and posts about the real world where people are dying every minute, and instead you sit there giggling like a complete twat. literal fucking idiots asking me why i’m mad. the question you should be asking yourself is, why are YOU not mad? why are YOU not upset? why are YOU not pissed off? why are YOU sitting there and acting like nothing is happening?
ya’ll for real make me wanna rip my hair out. you have these big platforms, but you don’t even wanna use it? you state you give a shit, but you’re silent the fucking second something happens? spare me that shit. be for real. if you cared, you would be speaking out more. no one has time for your fake ass excuses anymore.
to the ones who are using their platform and using it to spread awareness. i love you. i love you for using your voice. i love you for simply reblogging everything you see. thank you. you all are amazing.
but for the ignorant assholes? fuck off. get away. you’re all complicit, and i don’t care about you.
As usual, Free Palestine 🇵🇸
how you can help Palestine
Palestine masterpost
donate to Palestine
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yongbokkari · 11 months
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interrupted ₊˚. ୭̥
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𖦹 pairing — bf!seungmin x reader
𖦹 word count — 1.5k+
𖦹 warnings — hurt/comfort, fluff, slight angst, veeeery small misunderstanding, pet names of babe and baby, seungmin had a bad day and accidentally released it on reader 😿🙏🏻🙏🏻
a/n — result of sentences formed on multiple of 3 am-s (also posting this at 3 am), hope you enjoyyy <33 oh and there may be a few like undercase letters lolol we'll see if i am willing to find them
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You were resting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, waiting for Seungmin to arrive. As soon as you heard the sound of keys jangling, you immediately got up and opened the door before he could even try to unlock it.
You were standing there, waiting for him to come in, but he judt stared at you as if not expecting to see you. "You're here," he said, his face full of signs of exasperation, tired after a long day at work.
"Am i not supposed to?" You joked, raising your eyebrows. but he just muttered a 'nevermind' before walking past you. "Long day?" you asked, attempting to make conversation with him, in hopes that it could distract him from the tiredness.
"Yeah. Think im gonna shower then take a nap," You had made a joke then, about him getting old and acting like an old man, attempting to lighten his mood. "Whatever," he replied to your jokes, making his way to his bedroom and you followed.
"Ah, come on. Old man can't take a joke anymore?" You giggled, poking at his sides when he just stopped in his tracks and turned to you.
"Can you just stop? I'm already having a bad enough day so you can you please stop bothering me?" He snapped, eyes tired but also glaring at you at the same time.
You were shook by the slight raise and edge to his voice so you couldn't really think of anything to reply to him. A few moments passed with you just staring at him and him you.
"Why are you even here," You heard Seungmin mutter before turning away from you, closing the bedroom door and leaving you alone.
"Right," you said to yourself. "Why am i even here?" it wasn't unusual for you to appear at Seungmin's house at random times, and he even made a spare key for you. But that didn't mean you could just come whenever you wanted to.
You gathered your things and got out of the house to drive yourself home. You weren't mad at him, far from it even. Of course you weren't, you didn't have the right to be.
You were more worried about what he said though. Were you really bothering him? Should you just stop going to his house unannounced again? You probably should. He probably just gave you a key just in case he lost his.
When you got home, you immediately started an assignment that was put on hold for quite long, hoping that it could distract you. It seemed seungmin had wanted some distance and space, so you were set on working on it until he reached out so you'd know when it was okay between you.
˖❁ˎˊ•°.
You were typing away on your laptop, earphones plugged in, slightly bobbing your head to the song playing, when you heard a knock on the door. You yelled, allowing your housemate to come in. Except it wasn't her, and when you turned back you were surprised to see your boyfriend with a frown on his face.
"Min?" You paused the song and took off your earphones, turning around to your boyfriend directly behind you. "Min, what are you doing here?"
"Why didn't you answer my texts?" He asked, ignoring your question. he looked absolutely tired, you wondered if he even got to sleep before coming here.
"Texts? My phone..." You looked around the desk you were working on, searching for your phone, discovering that it was on your bed. So you walked over to pick it up to check your notifications but the screen remained dark as you pressed the power button. "Ah... my battery ran out," You lightly chuckled, looking at Seungmin.
"Why didn't you charge your phone then?" He asked, his facial expression serious. It almost scared you how serious he looked, worrying if he had texted you about something important.
"I didn't notice my battery was low... and i was using my laptop for work, so i didn't check," You gestured to the laptop sitting on the desk. "Did you have something important to tell me? I'm so sorry Min, for not being there, I-" Your words were cut off when seungmin just pulled you in for a hug. You immediately wrapped your arms around his waist.
"So you're not ignoring me?" He asked. Usually, you were the one who had to reach up slightly to hug him since he always insisted on seeing you on the tip of your toes. But this time it was him who lowered his body, tucking his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Min, why would i ignore you?" You asked, genuinely curious as to how he had come to that thought. Then he sighed, as if relieved his worries were only what-ifs afterall. You started to rub his back then, and he had started to give in to your body warmth, almost letting his whole weight fall into your care.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did."
You racked your brains for a while, honestly having forgotten about what happened back at his house.
"Oh, that? You don't need to apologize, Min. You were tired, I understand."
"No, it was unreasonable. I shouldn't have let my tiredness out on you," He insisted.
"Then it's fine, I forgive you," you replied, to which he silently thanked you by placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, still not breaking the hug. "But... do you really think so?" He hummed, questioning what you meant. "Do i really bother you?" he slowly pulled away, looking at your face.
"I won't get mad or upset Min, i promise. I don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable because of me. So just tell me what you feel, and I'll act on it, I promise." You said, holding his hands in yours, affirming him that whatever his reply was, you were going to be fine and it won't cause even a slight damage to the relationship, if that was what he was worried about.
He only looked at you then, eyes darting from your left eye to the right, back and forth, mouth a bit downturned, and you were starting to get afraid that what you said made him upset when he cradled your left cheek in his hand.
"You're so good to me," he muttered, frown slightly deepening. "No, i didn't mean it, I don't know why I said that," he threw his head back and blew from his mouth, like he always did when he was about to but didn't want to cry.
He hugged you again pressing his nose even more into the crook of your neck, his eyebrows furrowing at his efforts to not cry. "I'm so sorry babe. You'd never be a bother to me, never. I- I love it when you wait for me to come home, I always do, but today I just- Today was so hard that I just-" He choked on his own breath so you pat his back, trying to get him to calm down. After gaining a steady breathing again, he asked, "Did I hurt you?"
"Well... A bit, but I knew you would never say that without a reason. My sweet boy would never," You chuckled, your hands patting his head, your fingers going through his hair.
He pulled away, meeting your eyes. "I'm so sorry," His eyes were slightly red, the bags under his eyes more prominent now you were seeing them upclose.
"Don't cry, Min, it's okay," You wiped the tears stained on his cheeks, caressing his under eyes. "Did you get any sleep? You look tired, my poor baby," You coo, trying to lighten the mood.
He shook his head. "I couldn't. Was thinking of you," Your heart ached at his soft eyes looking at yours like a puppy lost.
"Oh baby," He leaned into your hand that was cradling his cheek. "Should we get some now? Hm?" When he nodded, you continued, "You go lay down first, I'll go turn off my laptop."
As soon as you reached the bed, Seungmin took you in his arms, your head resting on his chest while one of his hands was on your waist, the other in your hair. Yours were wrapped tightly around his waist, melting into his warm embrace, contrast to your cold skin.
Suddenly he took one of your hands, his thumb caressing the back of it. "Thank you, Y/n, for always thinking of me... I love you."
You raised your head to look at him. "I love you too, Min." You pecked his lips, smiling softly, before laying your head atop his chest again. "Now sleep. Who should I look at after this if you really do turn into an old man?"
He lightly chuckled, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, as you slowly drift into sleep, hand in hand.
Seungmin wanted to show you how in love with you he was. Everything about you he adored and cherished and he was always on the verge of combusting from how much love for you he contains. Maybe someday that day will come, but for now he'll slowly take small steps into making that moment come true.
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hollyskywalker · 5 months
Text
Worst nightmare
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She had him wrapped around her little finger.  
Coriolanus knew she did. He's no longer the same teenage boy trying to wrap his head around what this achy feeling in his chest is. He no longer convinces himself it's hunger, or that he's just confused. He knows the feeling is longing, desire, lust, or maybe even love.  
After everything that happened in District 12 with Sejanus, with Lucy and the people he left behind he had hoped he'd never have to go through this again. A foolish hope, he realizes now. He's a human being and it's almost unavoidable there are people out there who would know just the right thing to say or just the right thing to do for him to lose his ambition focused mind in the fog that is love, or obsession in his case. He's not sure there's really a difference between the two.  
But he thought he knew better than to let someone in again. He hadn't liked how Lucy made him feel vulnerable, and how it had hurt when he realized she'd left him in the woods.  
Yet here he was, pressing this infuriating woman against the wall with her legs wrapped around his hips, their lips barely parting to breathe before pulling the other back in. 
She was perfect.  
Absolutely perfect.  
She was also his close friend's wife. 
He always thought of himself as a gentleman. Sure, he did questionable things and studied under the most questionable woman of Panem during his time at university, but at least he was polite about it. Or at least, he acted in the way one would expect a gentleman to act. 
Kissing your old classmate and close friend's wife is not very gentleman-like. He knows this but when she tangles her hand in his hair the way she does, he can't find it in himself to care.  
“Festus will come find me” she murmured into the kiss. He ignored her and started to kiss his way down her neck. He's not going to acknowledge another man's name coming from her mouth when his mouth is the one making her keen so sweetly. 
She repeated her words and when ignored her once again she gently nudged him back a bit so she could look into his eyes “Coriolanus, you know he can’t catch us. Everything will be ruined” 
He thought he might start laughing. He honestly pities the tree somewhere out there whose single purpose is to replace the oxygen her husband wastes. “Festus Creed does not have the capability of ruining anything for me” 
She hummed and brushed his hair off his face. “Your mood before we came here seemed pretty ruined to me” 
His grip on her waist tightened at the memory of Festus drunkenly clinging to her, embarrassing her, during the entirety of the evening before Coriolanus had cleverly thought of an excuse to whisk her away. 
“Very daring, to take me away from my husband in front of all those people” she whispers, her hands coming up to rest gently on his shoulders.  “Not at all like you to take that kind of risks” 
He didn't bother responding to that and simply rested his head in the crook of her neck, pulling her body as close as possible to his. She rolled her head to the side, giving him better access as her eyelids fell shut. His nose grazes up and down the length of her neck, breathing her in. 
It had been a long day. His path to becoming Panem's president was set and he was prepared to wait for the perfect moment now that he has the right people on his side. He was not an impatient man, but so close to his goal it was hard not to long for time to speed up just a little bit. 
That's why he'd already been annoyed when he arrived at this fundraiser which must be the 10th this month, and then he had to watch Festus wrap his arms around her. It was just too much.  
When they are together, it's like all the noise is cancelled out and he can finally feel at peace. His mind finally rests and he enjoys when they focus solely on each other and nothing else.  
“Marry me” she murmurs in a voice like honey.  
He's taken aback, pulling away from her to look at her wide-eyed. He hardly noticed anything around him; he felt disorientated, dizzy. His mind worked feverishly. Did she really just ask that? Did he imagine things?  
It takes a moment for him to gather himself enough to answer her. “What?” 
She tilts her head to the side with a grin, linking their hands. “Marry me. You want to become president and you have all it takes to become one except for a wife. People will expect you to have one by the time the campaigning truly starts, and you know no one works a crowd better than me. I have them hanging onto my every word within seconds,” she pulled him down slightly so she could comfortably wrap her arms around his neck “With my family name, and influence, and your talent as a natural leader, combine the two of us and Panem would be yours by the end of the year” 
He stared at the wall on the other side of the room.  
Laying her fingers on his left cheek, she turned his face to look at her. “Just imagine how powerful we could be together as a couple” 
He was imagining it. But... 
“They'd never allow you to divorce Festus” he said with certainty. This he knew for sure. The family name and influence she spoke of would not be as impactful if everyone knew she divorced someone from the Creed family. They'd call her crazy, and steer clear of her.  
“We could not marry unless Festus were dead” 
Her eyes darted between his, her hand cupping his face. She truly was ethereal.  
“I know”  
Her response is entirely too calm and he frowned at her.  
During events he would often watch her socialize and play the crowd just like she said, until they were hanging onto every word that fell past her pretty lips. She always seemed so genuine when she talked to people, but he had caught the glint of ambition in her eyes, just like him.  
She was an impeccable liar without a tell. She could lie to whoever she wanted to. Despite that she tended to be a very honest woman. He knew he would be able to count on her if she was on his side. Her, with her always impeccable appearance and her fashionably styled hair wearing nothing but lavish clothing standing out blindingly, concealing her still very much venomous nature.  Perfect. Absolutely perfect she was.  
Festus was undeserving of a woman like her. He'd always thought it but now he was sure of it. 
He could already picture it. Him, waving down at the crowd with her by his side, the envy of Panem. There would always be people against him and his tendency of making unethical choices. But how could they doubt his leadership if a woman as good as her was married to him? They'd believe she'd keep him on the right path. 
She was working her way to the top, and she was succeeding. So it would only make sense for her to ask him. Festus had his sights set on presidency too, but if she believed Coriolanus had a better chance... Coriolanus tried not to let it get to his head.
Was she insinuating he kill Festus for her? So they could marry and she could become Panem's First Lady? Did she know he'd killed before? If she did, she obviously wasn't bothered by it or scared of him because of it.  
But then there was Festus. Coriolanus didn't particularly like the guy, in fact, seeing Festus trip was the highlight of his day not even a week ago, but could he kill the Creed heir? He had killed before but in this situation it's less trivial. It's not about survival, nor about making it to the top. He was sure he could make it without her...but still... did he want to, without her? Is she not worth it? Is having her by his side worth killing Festus Creed for? 
She's not worth it, he thought and tasted the lie as soon as it crossed his mind. 
He met her eyes and thought of her smile – the smile he can't ever seem to get out of his head – and- 
He was going to kill Festus Creed.  
Memories of Sejanus flashed across his mind. Sejanus had been in the way of him ever returning to the Capitol. So he took choices that haunted him, but he didn't regret. Just like he wouldn't regretting ridding her of her infuriatingly incapable husband.  
Truthfully, Coriolanus was surprised Festus was able to stand with a spine that weak. Always following what others told him to do, never thinking for himself, so easy to manipulate. Yet he saw himself suitable for presidency?
His hands have settled on her waist seemingly out of pure instinct. His throat felt dry, and he swallowed several times before he tried to speak. 
“Yes” he nodded, decision made “Alright” 
Something bright flared in her eyes as she looked at him. After a pause, she practically launched herself at him, knocking into him so hard that he had to take a step back. He laughed quickly. One of his hands is still on her waist, but the other cups the back of her neck as his thumb strokes over her throat.   
She tilted her head up and pecked his lips. Something horrible tugged at his chest, and he knew. There's no one more dangerous in the world than her. Because he's obsessed and in love as she gazed up at him through her lashes. 
The blood was thundering through his brain. Happiness filled his chest; a dizzying sensation and his head swam with emotion. His arm slid around her waist, his hand coming to rest on her hip. 
“Mrs Snow” he whispered like a promise, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.  
"What is it?" she chuckled "Why are you looking at me like that?"  
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, roughly but passionately. 
"You are my worst nightmare and the woman of my dreams all at once" 
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