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hazbinshusk · 1 day

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blitzø x f!reader.

part two to this fic.

after inviting blitzø to stay the night in your bed, the two of you (and the rest of i.m.p.) deal with the sudden change in the dynamic between the two of you.

features blitzø typical language, pure fluff, and sexual innuendo. the man really has a thing for your boobs, okay? 1.4k

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You wake up before your alarm, eyes opening reluctantly against the red light of a hellish morning. It takes you a moment to remember the events of the night before, but the shifting of the sheets over you as another body in the bed moves brings it all flooding back.

Both you and Blitzø had moved in the night and his hand is no longer wrapped around yours. You vaguely remember falling asleep after him, your hand still enclosed in his as his breathing had slowly evened out into a soothing, steady rhythm. His back is to you now, his body curled in on itself almost protectively. You take a moment to study him, the curve of his horns and the slim line of his back as it peeks out from under the blankets. Eventually you make a move to leave the bed, switching off your alarm and intent on a steaming shower.

You stop as something tightens reflexively around your leg as soon as you try to move, and you lift the sheets with a brow raised in curiosity. Blitzø’s tail is wrapped firmly around your calf, and as you watch, the spade of his tail twitches slowly back in forth against the underside of your knee. It’s oddly soothing, and you press your lips together against the smile that threatens to bloom on your lips. With a soft exhale you let yourself fall back against the mattress, turning your head to look at him again.

“Blitzø?” you say his name softly, almost unwilling to wake him up. You weren’t sure of the last time he’d seemed so… peaceful. You reach out to touch a gentle hand to his shoulder. “B? We’ve gotta go to work.”

The imp groans, rolling onto his back. He squints up at the unfamiliar ceiling, apparently confused. “The fuck…?”

His eyes snap fully open as the night before suddenly comes back to him, and he grimaces, slowly turning his head to meet your eye.

“Christ on a stick, I really spent the fuckin’ night here, didn’t I?”

You nod, amused by the almost bashful glint in his eyes. “You did.”

“Please tell me I at least got to bury my face in those sweet—”

“No, you didn’t.” you say bluntly, rolling your eyes before he can finish. Still, you feel a tingle of warmth through you at the suggestion. “How’d you sleep?”

He shrugs a shoulder, rubbing a hand over his face and groaning. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

“That’s what happens when you drink your weight in booze two nights in a row.”

“Bitch.”

You smirk at the lack of venom in his voice. “You wanna shower first? I don’t know if I’ve got anything you could wear, but I guess you could borrow a shirt or something if you need it…”

Blitzø groans again, more dramatically than before, rolling into your side and burying his face in your neck. You freeze as you feel the warmth of him press up against you, his face almost nuzzling into the curve of your collarbone. The sensation makes that warmth reappear inside you. The softest of cat-like purrs sounds from him for a moment before he stiffens, suddenly aware of the position he’s in.

He jerks away from you, falling off the side of the bed with a loud thump and a string of curses. The move tugs your leg across the bed, and his swearing continues as he realizes he’s effectively tied himself to you in his sleep. “Fuckin’ – ASS!”

His tail detangles itself from your leg as you sit up, and you swear you can see a pinkish hue to the scarred side of his face.

“…You good?”

“Shut up.”

“Nope,” you reply childishly, smirking when he flips you off. “Now, did you want to shower?”

Blitzø tries for seductive, raising an eyebrow at you from where he still sits on the floor. “You joining me? ‘Cause I gotta say the idea of you all soaped up and gag—”

“Blitzø.” you deadpan, climbing out of bed. His eyes drop over your figure as he realizes what you had been wearing in bed with him – just an oversized tee shirt and your underwear – and you swear his pupils dilate. “Are you sober yet?”

He blinks up at you, swallowing heavily before clearing his throat. “Judgin’ by the titty-fuckin’ brass band shovin’ its collective dick up my brain’s unlubed ass right now, I’d say yeah.”

You wrinkle your nose at the metaphor but squat down in front of him, studying his face for a moment. You nod as you make a decision, reaching out to wipe a spot of dried drool away from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. “Okay.”

Ignoring the part of you that reminded you that this was a bad idea, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his in a chaste kiss, his cheek still cupped in your hand. Blitzø freezes for a moment before kissing you back, his hand finding your knee and sliding up to curl around the bare flesh of your thigh as he leans up into it. You feel his breath catch against your mouth, his tongue touching your bottom lip for a second. The kiss is soft and it’s brief and when you pull away Blitzø still looks surprised.

Giving him a small smile you stand, fingers curling in the hem of your shirt. “I’ve gotta shower. The coffee machine should start brewing in a few minutes if you want some.”

“I… what?!”

***

Loona doesn’t say anything when she climbs up into the van beside you, trapping you between the hellhound and the imp driving, but her raised eyebrow speaks volumes.

“Nothing happened.” you tell her defensively.

“Uh-huh.” Loona replies dryly, already focused on her phone, and you can basically feel Blitzø’s smirk on the other side of you. By the time you were showered and dressed he’d managed to summon up much of his usual bravado, and the fact that he was currently wearing your favorite 666 Wrath Radio tee shirt was serving as basically a spotlight broadcasting the idea that the two of you had fucked.

You suspect that that was the whole reason he picked it.

You jump as you feel Blitzø’s hand slide over your thigh as he reaches between your knees to shift gears. He touches you again as he withdraws, claws grazing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Goosebumps follow after them. You shiver and he snickers, and suddenly you’re regretting the fact that you’d chosen to wear shorts.

Loona eyes you as she notices the touch, and you roll your eyes. “Nothing happened.”

“Sure.”

***

“Is Blitzø wearing your shirt?” Moxxie asked as you entered the I.M.P. office, drawing Millie’s attention too. “Why is he wearing your shirt?”

A smile forms on Millie’s lips, her eyes shining with possibility. “Did you two…?”

“No!” you reply, dropping onto the couch with a sigh. “For Satan’s sake, no!”

Moxxie seems to be still stuck on the obvious. “But he’s wearing your shirt.”

“Aw, come on, Moxx.” Blitzø says, wrapping an arm obnoxiously around the other imp and pulling him unwillingly into his side. He ruffles Moxxie’s hair with his fist, grinning as he tries to shove him away. “You know if we’d fucked Y/N here would need the day off just to get those sexy little legs of hers workin’ again after all the shakin’ they’d been doin’!”

“Shut the fuck up, B,” you tell him as Moxxie finally manages to wrest himself Blitzø’s grasp, and the taller imp grins at you. “Or I’ll tell ‘em what actually happened last night. Okay, boss?”

“Ooh, ‘boss’? Tits, you’re gonna go and make me all tingly.”

You roll your eyes, but his smile widens from teasing to more pleased as he notices you trying not to smile yourself. “Can we just… go kill someone? Please?”

Blitzø claps his hand together, turning on his heel to face Loona. “Now you’re talking! Looney, what have we got on the books for today?”

Millie takes a seat beside you, leaning into your side to speak quietly enough that only you would hear. “What did happen last night?”

You shake your head, avoiding her eye. Blitzø catches your eye again as Loona goes through the day’s agenda in a detached tone of voice. He winks and you feel yourself flush. Millie’s eyebrows shoot up as she notices.

You clear your throat. “I… honestly, I've got no fucking idea.”

#this wasn't really supposed to be a series but i'm enjoying the dynamic #smut is on the way between these two #blitzo x reader #blitz x reader #blitzø #blitz posting #blitzo #blitzø x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss #helluva boss fanfiction #my fic #this has been sitting in my drafts and while i still don't feel up to writing i wanted to post something for the new ep #so enjoy (i hope)

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mapofthemazeinthemirror · 2 days

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𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

Noble reader x Prince beomgyu

author's note: This isn't very fleshed out because it's not something that I had planned on writing — there’s a lot of telling not showing — and I have other things that I want to work on that this idea interrupted! I also kept a lot of details vague to allow readers to imagine your own interests. I hope this doesn't read like it was rushed (it took me about a month) and that I caught all the errors. This is inspired by Violet aka @blackhairedjjun and her fic Flowers of Every Colour. Her persona of Prince Yeonjun and vivid scenes live in my mind and I recommend you read it if you haven't yet!

word count: 6k

The prince often feels overwhelmed. Sometimes it seems as if everyone in the castle is looking for him at all times. Officials come to find him during his lessons, upsetting his tutors. His tutors come searching for him when council runs late and cuts into lesson time. No matter where he is or what duty he’s busy with, he receives notes from staff or delegates. He feels as though he’s in a constant game of tug-of-war, with his attention being the thing that’s fought over.

After a long lesson that had been rescheduled to a late evening hour to allow time for an urgent discussion with his advisors in the afternoon, Beomgyu could feel a headache coming on. As he departed from the study where tutoring was held, he felt heavy with exhaustion, a pressure pain behind his eyelids. He was so on edge that his head whipped toward every creak of the old floors, every distant sound of a door opening or closing, anxious that it was somebody seeking him out for yet another task that only he could see to or decision only he could approve. He just needed a minute – one minute at least – to himself. Every waking hour was spent in the presence of others, so much filling his days that his mind played it all back as he lay in bed at night trying to chase some much needed rest. Since becoming his parents’ consort, it felt as though he hardly had time to hear his own thoughts.

There was one place he knew nobody would look for him. Wearily he carried himself across the long open hall, past the top of the grand marble staircase he usually took to his rooms. He felt a little paranoid with the way he kept glancing around and over his shoulder as if he might be attacked at any moment by a “there you are, your highness.” If his father saw him now, he’d be scolded for looking like a thief in his own castle.

On reaching his destination, he breathed a sigh of relief. The library was quite large, with wall to wall mahogany shelves, beautifully covered atlases and historical volumes as far as the eye could see. Unlike the rest of the castle with its overbearing chandeliers, the library was lit with the soft glow of sconces. Finding a desk tucked away in a corner, Beomgyu sank into a chair. This was an area of the castle he hadn’t visited more than a handful of times, and never of his own will. He hadn’t been keen on reading growing up as his older female cousins had, always requiring a book to occupy them during the duration of their stay when they visited. The young prince had always preferred to spend his time outside whenever he could, and he'd found the silence of the library was stifling. It was bliss to him now. He only wished the buzzing of noise in his head would stop if he soaked in the silence long enough.

The place was empty, nobody to protest his posture as he leant his elbows on the hardwood desk and pressed his face into his hands. Closing his eyes, he willed his mind to quiet. He focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out. In…

It was no use. His head was still swimming with facts from his lesson. With things he had to remember for tomorrow’s conference and the names of politicians he’d met yesterday, their faces all blurred together in his mind. With his advisors calling for him, the head of house calling for him, everything needing his deliberation–

He dropped his head onto his arm on the desk. Even the silence couldn’t help him, it seemed. Was this to be his life? A mind full of endless chatter?

Beomgyu’s tired eyes wandered over the spines of the books he could see on the far wall. Their rich colours, greens and reds, whites and browns, many with delicate gold foiling of titles he couldn’t make out. His eyes traced up the aged ladder leaning against the shelves, the one he was always given a telling off by his chaperone for playing on whenever he was dragged up here. The corner of his mouth turned up at the thought of those simpler days. His cousins had married and had children, far too busy to visit except for special occasions – usually only those of a ceremonial nature. The last time he’d seen them, the children hadn’t remembered him at all, it had been so long.

Sighing unconsciously, his gaze drifted to the decorated ceiling, not even making the effort of lifting his head from his arm. The elegant painting that adorned the library ceiling had been done with a skilled hand. Beomgyu couldn’t even begin to imagine how many hours something so beautiful and detailed would have taken. It was a dazzling scene of the night sky, with clouds and stars that seemed to swirl around each other in a silent dance. He could see every fine stroke that had gone into creating the layering hues that made up the deep night sky, that brought texture to the clouds and made them look as though a gentle breeze could move them, and stars that seemed so meticulously placed. He’d never looked so attentively at the art before, but he found a new appreciation for the work as he discovered his thoughts had grown quiet. Maybe this was why people spent so much money on paintings, he pondered, before his eyes drooped to a close.

The prince had almost completely dozed off when a soft gasp pulled him from the edge of sleep. Eyes blinking open, he realized that he’d gotten far too comfortable. He felt slightly groggy as he lifted his head from his arm, which had gone dead with the weight, and wondered at how long he’d been sitting there. Thumbing at his lip, he found a wet spot had begun to grow at the corner.

“I’m sorry,” came a voice, the source of the gasp that had brought him back. Would he have spent the entire night here if he’d not been woken? His dazed eyes looked up and found you, shrouded in dim light. He caught sight of recognition dawning on your face before you dipped into a respectful bow.

“I’m so sorry, your highness, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you said hurriedly, as if the words couldn’t get out fast enough. Did you think he was going to scold you for being here at the same time he was? “I was just leaving…”

Fighting off the lingering drowsiness, Beomgyu waved a hand, feeling sheepish at being caught in this position. “Please, there’s no need.”

You seemed to relax a little at that; the way your shoulders lowered as if you'd been tensed didn’t go unnoticed by the prince’s eyes. He had become skilled in recognizing stress, whether it was because he grew up in a somewhat high-stakes environment or he was sensitive to it now as a stressed adult himself, he was unsure. The book you were cradling in one arm caught his attention now that you weren’t clutching it so tight. Beomgyu didn’t recognize you, and he knew everyone who worked in the castle. It bewildered him a bit that you knew him but he didn’t know you, despite that being the case with almost every person he met. Suddenly he felt a touch embarrassed. Not only had you caught him in an unmannerly state, but he didn’t know your name, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

“I really was leaving,” you caught him out again by speaking first. Your eyes met for a long silent moment, and Beomgyu thought the silence had never been less stifling. Then you seemed to remember yourself, eyes dropping to the book in your arms. “I just need to put this back.”

Beomgyu stared at the back cover of that book as if it could help him, too occupied with scrambling inside his head for something to say to notice the way you nervously brushed the hair away from your face and stole shy glances at him.

“What is it?” he blurted. Internally he cursed himself for the way it sounded. He’d only wanted to say something before you walked away. There was an overwhelming feeling he couldn’t name. A longing for you to stay. A feeling of stupidity for not being his usual collected self.

As someone with an official title, meeting new people was always planned, always with a purpose, an end goal. He knew each time what was expected and required of him; how to act, questions to ask and answers to give. This was the first time he could remember meeting someone by accident, and it didn’t seem to Beomgyu that he was very good at it. Taking a breath, he attempted to reign in his panic and try again. “What are you reading?”

You had to look down and check. Turning it over in your hands, you revealed the cover to him with a shy smile. With just one glimpse at the title, Beomgyu knew it would be of no use to him in trying to make conversation. It was a topic he knew nothing about.

“Oh,” he said aloud. He hadn’t meant to. Hoping you hadn’t heard the disappointment in his voice, he rushed to cover himself. “Is it… good?”

Your small laugh surprised him. The sound of it lessened the knots in his stomach, even as he wondered if he had made a fool of himself.

“It’s useful,” you answered, looking him in the eye again. He tried to concentrate as you spoke, to hold on to the words and not get too distracted by your smile or your eyes. “I’m doing research for a scholarship and only the royal library has the books I need. That’s why I’m here,”

“The scholarship?” Beomgyu’s eyes had gone wide. “The scholarship that only one person is picked for every five years?”

Your eyes lowered as you began to blush. “Yes, that one.”

“Wow,” Beomgyu subconsciously sank into his chair in awe. “Your family must be very proud.”

You laughed once more, unaware of how the prince’s eyes lit up each time you did. “Well, I haven't got it yet.”

His mouth caught your contagious smile. “But to even be considered is a great accomplishment.”

Your eyes were the ones to light up this time. Clutching the book close to your chest again, you leaned forward, your fingers curling over the back of the empty chair in front of you. “This is the most impressive library I’ve ever seen.”

Beomgyu sat up taller in his chair. “It is, isn’t it?” He couldn’t help the proud grin that took over his face as he looked around.

“When I come here I lose track of time,” you went on. You were unmistakably animated with enthusiasm, and he was completely taken with you. “The first day I came here, I lost a whole two hours just reading all the spines. Even the ones that aren’t required reading.” Lowering your voice as if to share a secret, you confided, “If I lived here I’d probably never leave the library!”

Beomgyu suddenly felt guilty. He’d never thought about the knowledge that could only be found in this library, and that very few were permitted to the books that contained it.

“If only I had the time to read for pleasure here,” you went on.

“Well, why don't you take some home to read?"

"I'm not permitted to take books out of the library," you said sadly, your attention on the book in your hand as your finger traced the spine.

Beomgyu thought back to the summers he'd shared with his cousins; days he'd spent running around the courtyard in the sunshine while they lazed under a tree with their noses between book pages. "I am," he supplied. His voice came out surprisingly excited. "I could read them for you."

You looked around at him as he stood up from his chair. "Read them for me?"

The prince felt as though his smile was plastered on now. He couldn't hide it if he tried. "I could read them and tell you about them."

He felt your eyes go warm, glowing on him like the sun as you brought out your own smile. "I'm sure you have more important things to do, your highness."

Beomgyu shrugged.

***

That was the reason that Beomgyu started his days by going to the library. He read while he ate his breakfast, which luckily didn't have a set time to be finished by, as it took him a little longer to eat this way. He found himself getting so engrossed in the book that he would forget to eat at the same time, averaging a mouthful to every three paragraphs, his meal cold by the time he finished it.

Then he would read in his room at night. He found that it was an effective way to turn off the noise in his head left over from the day, helping him to sleep better. Many times he would nod off in his chair before waking up and getting into bed. He would take notes sometimes, to better remember the things he wanted to tell you about.

He looked forward to the closing of the day. Once his schedule was complete and it was almost time for dinner, he would slip up to the library in hopes of catching you and relaying all the things he'd read about so far. Excitedly and enthusiastically he'd tell you interesting facts and historical stories from his current book. He had much more energy at the end of the day than he'd had before now that he was sleeping better.

The library had become a sort of safe haven to him now. His tutors complimented his new interest in his learning during lessons, retaining and remembering with a sudden ease, and many of the staff had noted that he had become a lot less tense. The serving staff who saw him with his face behind a book each morning were amused, often surprised as he rattled off facts to them as they laid out and cleared away his breakfast. None of them knew the reason.

On his rare day of rest, he came to find you straight after lunch. He'd confirmed you'd be in the castle today the last time he'd seen you, and he'd been so excited last night that it had taken more than just one hour of reading to send him off to sleep. The day was sunny, and with some persuading Beomgyu convinced you to take a small break from your studies to sit in the garden. You were a little anxious about being caught taking advantage of your privilege to be at the palace by being seen with the prince, but he assured you that he would take care of it.

Deep in the garden, the two of you wandered up the stone path that divided the lawns, chatting casually. The gardens were magnificent. You'd only seen them from a window in the castle, but the further you walked the more beauty there was to see that couldn't be viewed from a distance. The path led to a beautiful paved area with a grand gazebo. Beomgyu ushered you to sit on the ornate bench, forgoing the custom that he should be the one to sit first and taking a seat once you had. Your heart was pounding despite the relief you felt that you'd not run into any trouble on your way out of the castle, and you were sure you felt it leap each time Beomgyu laughed.

He had produced a book when you looked back from admiring the scenery, from somewhere you could not determine. Your face lit up as you took in the familiar cover; it was the one book in the royal library that you'd longed to read most. Beomgyu beamed at your excited reaction as he held it out for your taking. You had to fight the urge to glance around and make sure that nobody was seeing as you took it from his hands.

You read it aloud, with Beomgyu listening intently to every word. In the back of your mind, you wondered how you ended up in this position. When you'd started coming to the castle to study, you had never imagined you'd catch sight of the prince let alone talk to him, and yet you had been in his presence more than anyone else inside the palace. Now, as you read, you took every opportunity to look from the page up at him, finding his eyes on you, his undivided and eager attention completely yours. You were quite comfortable being at his side by now, but sometimes when he looked at you, you could feel the prickling of heat beneath the surface of your cheeks.

You hadn’t thought he would follow through on his offer, but each time you saw him enter the library it made your whole day complete. Truth be told, it had begun to take your mind off studying a little. One moment you’d be reading about a lost dynasty, and the next you’d realise you had stopped taking in any information and your mind had turned to Beomgyu. It also happened that you would dawdle while reshelving the books you’d been studying, delaying your leaving in case the prince showed up, which he always did.

Time seemed to fall away around you as you read. Minutes were marked by each turn of a page and seconds by the now steady beat of your heart, until you were so enthralled by the text that you could have almost forgotten the scene you were truly in.

Beomgyu chuckled lightly and you paused your reading. Your eyes readjusted to the glow of sunlight on the backdrop of bright white flowers beyond the gazebo as you took in his smiling face once more.“You’re really enjoying this one.” His eyes flicked down to the page where you were marking the place you’d stopped with your finger. “You haven’t looked up for the last five pages.”

“I’m sorry,” you couldn’t help but laugh too. You felt almost giddishly content in this moment; in a breathtaking garden with a good book and someone you felt was becoming dear to you.

“No, it’s wonderful,” he assured you. “Is it as good as you imagined?”

“No,” you answered in one breath. “It’s better.” Beomgyu beamed, and it made you feel so warm you might’ve been sitting directly in the sun and not under the shade. But just then, a sudden cloud passed through your mind. “I’ll be sitting the scholarship exam soon.”

Looking out over the garden, you couldn’t help but feel sad as you thought of how much more you would miss your visits to the palace now that you had fond memories and someone you could call a friend here.

“Are you nervous?”

You shook your head softly. It wasn’t the answer to his question. He hadn’t caught your meaning. “My studies will be finished then.”

The prince’s eyes brightened even more. “Then you can read whatever you like, whenever you like.”

“Yes,” you agreed distractedly. In your mind you were going over the future possibilities. If you were awarded the scholarship, you’d be going off to attend university. If it was not granted to you but to someone else, your life would go back to the way it had always been.

Beomgyu seemed to catch the somber look in your eye as you looked to the distance. His expression faltered. “Oh.” He shifted on the bench beside you. “Oh, you mean…”

“I won’t be coming to the castle any more,” you affirmed.

His eyes lost their sparkle only for a moment as he thought through this information. Then he seemed to perk up again. “Well, I can invite you to visit. To visit the library. I’m sure there’s still so much to learn here.”

Your heart swelled with the idea that he wanted to see you more, even if you knew that it wasn’t a probable conclusion. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the prince’s word, only that you knew that he was a busy man with tight schedules, that you were the eldest child of a noble family with a future to be decided and forged ahead. You returned his smile and tried to ignore the thought that you wished he’d come to the library months ago, that you’d met sooner so you could have had more time together.

“Would you like me to keep reading?” you asked as you reminded yourself that he was a prince and that was all he would ever be to you. It was a fortunate happenstance to have met him at all, you reminded yourself as he nodded eagerly and propped his chin into his hand to listen contentedly as you began to read again.

It didn’t stop you from clinging to every moment and trying to engrave every detail into your memory.

***

During the last few days you visited the castle library, you tried your best to think about Beomgyu as little as possible and focus solely on study. It was a hard task. Passing the grand portrait of the royal family in the hallway without looking was like trying not to glance around when feeling the presence of someone you know. It felt as if the library was haunted now. Almost each corner held a memory of the prince finding you and bumbling eagerly through a tale, helping you carry books back to their shelves, or asking you to come and sit in the garden.

You had seriously considered leaving early, removing yourself from the castle before the hour he usually made his way to the library. But you weren’t sure which would hurt more — knowingly missing out on seeing him in the last few chances you had, or having more encounters in which to grow more attached. The thought of both made something inside of you ache.

Just when you’d convinced yourself you had made up your mind to leave, you passed a window and spotted a carriage pull up at the entrance gates below. The door swung before the footman could rush to open it and there he was. You didn’t know he hadn’t been here in the castle. The heart that had sat heavy in your chest felt leagues lighter just at this distant glimpse of him. As you tried to gauge whether you were relieved you hadn’t gotten away without seeing the prince, you saw him rush inside. He disappeared from view of the window and you looked up into the purple hued sky of the fast oncoming dusk. Maybe you were safe after all. He was clearly on his way to tend to a matter of importance. Feeling assured you could slip away unnoticed, you slid the last volume back onto its shelf and made for the door.

The sound of hurried footsteps on marble gave you pause. Unconsciously you backed away a few steps frin the open double doors, ready to wait out the staff who must have been ascending the staircase on some urgent errand. But the huff of exertion you heard was familiar. Heart pulsing suddenly and in a mind of suspense and disbelief, you waited with bated breath.

When Beomgyu stepped through the doors, you felt an overwhelming gratitude that you hadn’t succeeded in your departure. Even after a mere day without seeing each other, seeing those warm eyes and the smile that broke across his face when he found you felt akin to finding a well of water after a month without rain.

“I’m so glad I found you here,” he said in his usual way, and it sparked your smile just as it always did. You were so occupied with trying to memorize this feeling, to make sure you remembered this moment, that you didn’t reply. Beomgyu was preoccupied himself and didn’t seem to notice. “I got you something.” His grin turned a tiny bit shy.

You blinked in surprise as the words sank in. “You got–? Your Highness–”

Beomgyu chuckled. “Come on, none of that.” Your eyes didn’t leave his as he reached for the hand at your side. His other retrieved something tucked under his arm. Gently he turned your hand upwards, and you hardly had time to process anything before an object was placed into it.

You looked down to see the very book you had been reading in the garden, only it wasn’t the same copy. This seemed to be a newer edition, with a beautiful blue velvet cover. It felt quite luxurious as you turned it over in your hands. A gasp emitted from you as the glint of the gold page edges caught the light. It was the most special and thoughtful gift you’d ever received, and, you thought, far more precious than any of the books that surrounded you in the royal library. You found yourself so touched that you wanted to cry, but you fought back the tears as you looked up at your friend.

The prince looked twice as happy as you felt. His eyes sparkled despite the soft lighting, and his cheeks had taken on a slightly bashful pink. “So you can finish it,” he told you softly. “And read it over and over again, any time you want.”

You were still speechless, and you could feel the hot prickle of tears threatening to build. Before you knew it, you had thrown your arms around his neck, his arms closing around your back. Never did you imagine anything like this. You were stretched up on your toes, and you were sure he was leaning down to hug you, but you were too wrapped up in the moment to think about any of it. It felt like you were holding on to each other a long time before you finally parted. The urge to kiss his cheek filled you as you brushed away from him, but you thought better of it. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel as though you were jumping to conclusions that were presumptuous.

“I don’t have anything to give you,” you fretted. The weight of the book in your hands made you feel unexpectedly empty-handed.

Beomgyu chuckled. “It’s a ‘good luck’ present. Except I know you won’t need luck.”

“Thank you, Beomgyu.” His smile somehow grew at your use of his name. You knew you had his smile etched into your memory already.

“You’ll have to tell me how it ends,” he said as the two of you made your way slowly down the stairs. It was the first time he’d walked you out, and you were too intent on borrowing more time with him to worry much about being seen together when you reached the grand hall.

“No, I won’t,” you retorted with a laugh, looking up at him as you both dragged out each next step as subtly as possible. “You have your own copy here,”

Beomgyu pondered this for a moment, lips pursing, before formulating his reply. His eyes were determined as they met yours again. “Well, we’ll have to discuss our opinions on the ending.”

Neither of you took notice of the way the heads turned and followed the two of you as you crossed the hall. It was mostly palace staff at this time of evening. With the book clutched to your chest, they could only gather that this was the spark that had ignited Prince Beomgyu’s sudden penchant for reading. Many silent smiles were exchanged across the room as you passed.

“You will come if I invite you, won’t you?” Bromgyu asked on the front steps. His face was earnest, maybe the most you’d ever seen. “When you have time out from school?”

“Of course,” you replied, meaning it with all the hope in your heart. “But I haven’t gotten the scholarship yet.” You felt cause to keep reminding him.

“As well as I know how often you could come to visit if you didn’t get it, I know you will. I have no doubt.”

You looked up to see the genuine look in his eyes, sincerity doing little to conceal the sadness. “We’ll see each other again.” The words felt like truth as you spoke them. “And in the meantime, we can write.” Beomgyu nodded eagerly.

Disappointment tugged at you when you spotted your family’s carriage roll up through the gates. With a small bow and one last smile, you stepped into the vehicle, still clutching Beomgyu’s gift. You kept your eyes on him as the horses walked on, watched him wave until he was out of sight. There was a renewed heaviness about you as you sat back and settled in for the journey home. Even the first stars beginning to emerge from the darkening sky couldn’t comfort you as you gazed out of the window solemnly.

***

Prince Beomgyu tried his best, rather unsuccessfully, to stifle yet another yawn. He’d stayed up too late reading, and now he was sitting in the grand hall trying to go over his upcoming speech with bleary eyes. He hadn’t intended to go to bed quite so late, but each time he’d told himself he’d close the book at the end of the chapter, he hadn’t been able to. The closer he’d gotten to the end of the story, the more gripped by it he’d become and the faster his eyes seemed capable of taking in the words. He’d read until he’d finished the book, then sat in stunned silence. He couldn’t help but wonder if you’d finished the book yourself, and he’d had the strong urge to start a letter. Instead, his good sense had taken him to bed, where he’d remembered the speech he should have spent the night memorising. The book had been a satisfying distraction. Without it he likely would have tossed and turned the whole night in anticipation of giving his speech.

Beomgyu was still new to public speaking and was not fond of it. As the hour grew closer, he found himself stumbling over his words as he practised. He could feel his heart rate increase, seemingly with each tick of the loud ornate clock across from him and every sound that carried into the hall from the room full of people he was to address.

Getting to his feet, he began to move about the room in an effort to soothe himself. His thoughts attempted to reassure him. He knew what was expected of him. He knew, for the most part, what he was to say. But then the image of hundreds of pairs of eyes all fixed on him crept into his mind, sending a chill down his back. As he passed the clock, he felt it was taunting him — it seemed the minutes were passing faster than they should. He could almost feel the second hand’s torturous chanting inside his chest from this proximity. With a shaky sigh he turned to cross the room away from it again, fiddling with the golden buttons on his jacket cuff which he had already fastened and unfastened more times than he could count in his nervous state.

Through the open doors across the hall he could hear the familiar sound of a carriage arriving out front. Beomgyu allowed himself to imagine it had come to rescue him. He had the urge to go and greet it, just to give him a brief distraction, but the clock stared him down, boasting a mere five minutes remaining until he must speak in front of the crowd. Reaching for the small paper in his pocket, he made to sit once more and make himself concentrate on revising the words, until a voice called his title. He jumped back to his feet in panic, fearing they had come to usher him in early, but as he turned to the door beside him that led to the luncheon, he found no one. Instantly some of the tension in his raised shoulders fell away.

“Beomgyu!”

His heart skipped over one beat as he spun toward the entrance and saw a figure in a half mannerly run. Disbelief flickered in his mind at the sight of you, the first in weeks, but his body suddenly felt lighter than it had all day. You were rushing toward him, an unmistakable grin on your face, footsteps muffled by the thick ancient rug that carpeted the tiled floors.

Beomgyu stepped away from his seat with only seconds to spare, his face still one of bewilderment as you threw your arms around him, almost knocking the prince off his feet. His heart was thudding rapidly in his chest, but now it had nothing to do with nerves. His arms went around you instinctively as you met chest to chest, and in his excitement he brought you up onto your toes with his hug. Your laugh in his ear was like a familiar tune from a yesterday he’d longed to return to.

You pulled back to see his face, speaking first as you saw a question forming in his mind. “I got it! The scholarship – I got it!” you exclaimed.

The sun seemed to dawn on Beomgyu’s face, along with something that looked proud. “Of course you did! What did I tell you?”

His arms had relaxed around you to let you draw back, and now you glanced down at the placement of your hands on his shoulders, looking a touch shy in your realisation. His smile grew at this.

“You worked so hard.” He spoke more softly than a moment ago. His heart didn’t seem to settle as the two of you untangled from each other. He had half a thought to check on the time before another thought replaced it. “I finished the book last night.”

Your smile turned fond. He’d missed you more than he’d thought he had, which was hard to imagine. “I finished it the night you gave it to me,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Did you like how the story ends?”

Beomgyu reached a hand out toward yours in a small movement, his skin tingling at the feel of your warm fingers as you allowed your own to close around his. It was the second time he’d touched your hand, and this time he could hold it longer. “Yes,” he replied as he felt his smile widen. Your eyes met his again with a new shine. “I liked the ending very much.”

The clock chimed across the hall, announcing the hour and reminding him of his impending task. The door opened and his advisor appeared. If he was surprised to find the prince with company, he didn’t show it. The man simply smiled and nodded his head respectfully. “They’re ready for you, Your Highness.” Then he disappeared back inside.

Beomgyu took a deep breath. He found that he wasn’t as anxious as he had been before. There was still a lingering nervousness, but it had been softened by another feeling. Even the wall of sound that was just beyond the door seemed to have dulled at the back of his mind. He looked at you and you nodded towards the open door.

“My parents are inside. I used them as my excuse to come here.” He caught your clever smile, then felt your hand on his shoulder, and before he knew it you’d raised up onto your toes and your lips brushed his cheek. It was the kiss you’d held back before. “Good luck. But I know you won’t need it,” you said, slipping away through the door before he could react to the tingle on his face.

The prince’s mind was pleasantly blank as he faced the door and the duty ahead of him. It seemed his nerves had been replaced by a buzzing sensation that felt rather like courage, matching the tingling trace of your kiss on his face. Equipped with a smile, he stepped into the room feeling like he was about to give his best speech yet.

#beomgyu fics #beomgyu x reader #prince txt au #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #beomgyu imagines #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #prince beomgyu

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stormxpadme · 1 year

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Thank you so very much dear @scottxlogan for the tag <3. You make me feel very included right now, and I don't take that for granted.

Rules: pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

I’m tagging @effervescentdragon, @inwiste, @sneakymystique, @arofili, @admirablemonster, @tod-von-mii, @kintatsujo, @estelanel, @sianascera and @nikosheba and anyone else who wants to do this :)

I notoriously wrote for like a dozen fandoms in my life but I decided to take all these from my current main fandom this time, meaning this is a combination of several Weathered series parts and chapters from the oneshot collections (which are all independent oneshots). And here we goooo:

Resting his jaw on his forearms, he let a friendly tone smoothly replace the sharpness in his voice. "I gave you back your clear sight for the first time since you were a teenager. What has humanity ever done for you?"

Scott had nothing more than a mirthless laugh for the weak attempt at a peaceful compromise. "Wrong, old man. I helped myself when I mutated. And even in the days when I didn't have glasses to control my gift, I was never as blind as you." I helped myself

Charles still hadn't told him.

For a moment Erik considered making Charles' famous prized pupil realize how much his beloved mentor was really hiding from him, how thick the walls around certain memories in Scott's mind were that Charles had once built under the pretense of concern and protection. He let it be. That boy, thanks to those strong but simply uncontrollable powers, was not important enough in the big picture to meddle with certain things. And Essex was one of these ghosts from the past who, for the good of the mutant world, better stayed buried there, too.

- Weathered I: FROST (#5)

***

She raised her hand sharply before Charles could even attempt to explain the necessity of this mission. "You will have your reasons. You probably have no choice anyway, although I find it admirably optimistic that you think you really can still save this girl. But that’s your choice. I promised I'd do it, so I'll give my best. Just show me my room and give me computer access in case we get in trouble here."

"Of course." Scott couldn't keep a little sarcasm out of his voice at that last demand. "As long as you live here, this house is yours too, but keep your hands off things that are none of your business, Frost."

"Scott, please." After last night, Katja didn't want to get into another disagreement with her partner, and kept to a quiet reminder to let the past rest for once, at least today.

But someone like Emma didn't need backup anyway. "Just for the record, Summers ..." She tugged her sunglasses down with a fingertip to present her reddened eyes to her conversation partner. "I put a horse maid in my office for you - no offense, Cat -, I’ve had my shoulder impaled for the girl which will never function the way it used to, I betrayed Magneto, and provoked Mystique to brand my school in Washington as a terrorist training camp. I just gave up my mansion, and my children have to spend the night in your musty basement. And you still distrust me more than a flying corpse who just torched New York? Shall we discuss whether you're paranoid now?"

- Weathered I: FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE (#10)

***

"We need a place where we are safe," Pyro agreed with a satisfied nod. "That's why you're all here, so we can conquer what's rightfully ours and are no longer be defenseless against the hatred of humanity." His voice growing louder with each word, he came to stand at the very edge of the stage, arms raised high, seemingly looking the hundreds of their followers all in the eye at once, with a determination in his gaze that almost bordered on desperation.

And the people reacted, as they always did during his speeches. One by one, the other mutants also raised their weapons or their bare hands, let energy, water, electricity play around their fists or expressed their final agreement with a loud battle cry.

"Tonight is ours!" Pyro shouted, anticipation, ecstasy in his deep, raspy voice, a gleam in his eyes that far exceeded the brilliance of his fire. It was one of those rare moments that Mystique was proud of him. "When the sun rises, New York is ours. We will no longer hide. We will have our own Kingdom, where no one is outcast, no one is unaccepted. From all over the planet, they will come to us, and humanity will choke on envy about what we will make of our little world. For this, brothers and sisters, fight! This is what we are bleeding for tonight! Tonight is ours!" His final, enthusiastic shout echoed in the hall, accompanied by countless more cheers. With his head bowed to their people, he stepped back again. "Tonight is ours, Raven," he repeated again, only loud enough for her to hear when she nodded to him appreciatively, already half on her way up to the hangar where they would wait for the others to change, to arm themselves.

This time, she let him when he called her by the name he had no right to say. Certain things, you just couldn't teach the boy. And as long as he kept performing like he had a second ago, that was fine.

"I just hope for all of our sakes that it brings us what you expect it to. Because if it doesn't ... Then that was probably our last big speech to the people."

- Weathered II: RETURN OF THE X-MEN (#2)

***

That was as good an excuse as any to steer his gelding back a step or two, no matter how much the missing touch of the back on his hand burned in yearning immediately. Not yet. On the way home, Erik wanted Charles to think about what made life at the mansion so difficult right now before it really did become too late to change anything about it. "Why do you keep hiring people who are actively trying to damage us then?" "Hank isn't forcing his choice on anyone either." There was a sad plea for the case of one of his closest friends in his lover's grey eyes that had long stopped reaching Erik's heart, at the latest when McCoy had started to experiment on his own damn body in the name of some pseudo-science. The pure possibility of such a possible cure for what made them all superior was an affront Erik would have killed more important people than some feral for on a bad day. At least if Charles and he could finally find any other doctor half as competent to help them out when they needed it. But in some regards, he'd still not managed to cure his lover of his damn bleeding heart, and sometimes he doubted he ever could. Sometimes he doubted he should. At least one of them keeping a faint connection of empathy to this world that tried to wipe them out every day might be the best way to ensure, Erik wouldn't just wake up one of these weeks and reach out for the magnetic field keeping this whole ball of dirt going and rip it to pieces. Not while there was still hope. For all of them, for Charles and him.

- "Weathered I" & "Weathered II" - (Don't) Need-to-know: RENOVATIO (ch 4)

***

But that arduous kind of rationality became harder to uphold by the second, because Mystique had never been much one for patience, and she obviously disliked being ignored a lot. The extremely one-sided questioning part was done with quickly, and all the frustration about that failure went into every brutal ruthless flicker of her wrist, every punishing crackle of leather on unprotected skin. They were running out of time even faster than feared. No longer willing to wait, Jean found her composure back before Ororo who was still trying to decide which risk to take was the smaller one. 'We need to approach unseen. That room's got a window, I think, we just can't see it from here. And when I'm closer to them, I can grab them. We just need to surprise them. From above.' An apologetic but pleading look on her face, she nodded to the ceiling of the storage room where the menacing sight of a thin square cover sent cold shivers down Ororo's spine. 'I don’t do vents, you know that.' Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't have objected loudly, with her throat so dry immediately that even swallowing hurt, her skin under her uniform covered by goosebumps. 'Ororo, please.' Jean grabbed her by the elbows, clearly seeking purchase more than trying to convince her with force, the attempts to take control of the situation next door forgotten for the moment, drowned out by that pain wrecking through her soul from standing by to witness such a cruel scene … and imagining what was next. 'I … I can hear that bastard's thoughts. You don’t even want to know what he wants to do Scott. To all of us.'

- "Weathered I" & "Weathered II" - (Don't) Need-to-know: RENOVATIO (ch 8)

***

"Thanks, Slim." Logan was still out of it enough to not even be in the mood for a silly quip, and maybe for once, it really wouldn't have been appropriate. "That's what we're here for," Scott said simply, and yeah, that was probably also true. "I know you're still feeling like shit but you should be better by nightfall, and you were stable enough for the helicopter. Besides, I'm pretty sure you traumatized Moira. She wasn't exactly unhappy to drop your ugly ass with us again." It was Logan's turn to roll his eyes because he also remembered in annoyingly much detail that one unnerving conversation with the doc before the surgery to replace what Lehnsherr had stolen from him back then. "I told her my heart would probably give in at some point. Not like I haven't been there before." "One time, sure. But 20?"

- "Weathered I" & "Weathered II" - (Don't) Need-to-know: RENOVATIO (ch 20)

***

"I will give the two of you the necessary privacy now. You have an hour before I throw a dice about which of your homes to raze to the ground first." Their enemy strolled towards the exit of the dungeon, a cheerful whistle on his lips. "I will keep an eye on you on the camera though. So do yourselves a favor and don't try anything irrational." Mystique and Scott stared at the heavy door falling close behind that asshole in utter disbelief and cluelessness. At the first initial shock, the worry about an unhinged psycho easily going through with a threat like that was too massive a burning hot obstacle of hate probably not only in Scott's mind to even keep breathing, not to mention thinking. They had to get out of here, immediately, stop that son of a bitch, get to their respective homes and make them safe again … Warn the others from something they wouldn't even see coming before dozens – or thousands – of innocents would perish from the moods of a madman. Children, untrained teenagers, babies … Scott hardly even felt the movement of his numbed body away from the cell door and towards the far more substantial obstacle of a wall when it came. His racing thoughts were filled with a blinding red heat of panic that needed an outlet, immediately … Before he could unload all this surging aggression on unforgiving rock, a harsh hand grabbed his wrists and yanked him back against the door's bars. "Cut it out, you imbecile."

- "Weathered I" & "Weathered II" - (Don't) Need-to-know: RENOVATIO (ch 25)

***

"I love you too, you know." When Angelica looked up with a frown at Peter's suddenly very solemn tone, he reached for her free hand and pulled it close so that it came to rest on that narrow but steel-hard surface that was his chest and she could feel the suddenly quite irregular thud in there. His other hand landed on the half-bared, muscular leg of the man on his other side, just a little too far on the inside which immediately raised goose-bumps on Bobby's smooth skin. For now, a reaction ignored though Angelica could feel Peter shift his weight on the sofa, hips slanting for a second, and she had a pretty good idea about what was going on there under those baggy shorts right now. But he obviously wanted to get something off his chest before following that desire. Something that had never been much of a question anyway and maybe needed to be said at least once still. "Not in … that kind of way. Never that, I think. But you're the first close friends I had in a long time and the first that don't bring disaster in my life but actually protect me from it. I would love to be a part of what you guys have whenever we have time and feel like it, in whatever way we're all comfortable with. I just hope you're not disappointed if … Well, knowing MJ and me ... Someday we might end up together again, and I'm pretty sure that'll be exclusive if it ever happens."

- "Weathered I" & "Weathered II" - (Don't) Need-to-know: UNCHARTED SEA, UNOPENED DOOR (ch 11)

***

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that. Space vacuum is a pain for my healing factor." Logan, having just parted with his old friends for the night before catching the last of Scott's words, wrapped his arm around Jean's waist to move her towards the heavy double steel doors in determination. "Don't even think about it, Slim. Save it for the departure. You start making another round now, night will be over before you said goodbye to everyone. I'm not waiting that long to get you to bed." "Do you hear me complaining, Claws?" To both Jean’s and Logan’s surprise, Scott indeed only waved at the space station commander apologetically when they made a move to approach him for some more dispensable discussions just as well suited for the next Council's online meeting agenda, and followed them without stopping. "Every minute of my life," Logan answered dryly once they were alone in the hallway, following the digital station map that had been sent to their watches earlier, to find their way to their quarters for the night. "But since you've proven with that glitter show earlier that your wife successfully managed to remove that stick from your ass at some point in the last 30 years? I'll let it slide this time."

- "Weathered I" & "Weathered II" - (Don't) Need-to-know: UNCHARTED SEA, UNOPENED DOOR (ch 14)

***

10)

The telltale sound of a belt impatiently ripped from its loops drew a gasp of unease and anticipation from Scott's lips. For a moment, he considered trying to be a pain again – as turned on as they both were, their window was still limited, and Scott had very little interest in trying to explain to Hank on the sick bay in two hours or so where additional bruises on his behind came from. But his second-in-command after all these years still had his supernatural reflexes on him, so the only place his arms had to go when he tried to brace himself on the stretcher's metal frame, push himself away from it, was right into the leather bite of a tight loop around his wrists. Two knots of that improvised cuff around said sturdy metal bars later, any resistance was reduced to an irritated hiss from his lips. "We don't have time for games …" With his neck hurting from a less than gracious fall earlier, it became much harder now to turn his head and glare at his lover, so Scott only realized, that belt wasn't the only thing Logan had grabbed when there was suddenly the sensation of cold, rigid metal against his stretched hole and the last syllables of his half-hearted protest ended with a strangled groan. "Fuck … Logan …"

- "Weathered I" & "Weathered II" - (Don't) Need-to-know: UNCHARTED SEA, UNOPENED DOOR (ch 15)

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seapiglet · 9 months

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The only way I would've accepted seeing pre-fall Crowley and Aziraphale together is if they were like in the Heaven cafeteria, Crowley complaining to a celestial dinnerlady that the lunch options all look bad ("the food hadn't been that good lately"), while Aziraphale walks by in the other direction, needlessly worrying about something. Neither notices the other. They were this close and yet!

Perhaps Aziraphale and another angel are even discussing some rumour about angels starting to ask questions of The Almighty and expresses concern.

Keep in the "how much trouble can I get into for asking a few questions?" or whatever from Crowley but have it be with the disgruntled dinnerlady or one of Lucifer's crew he was presumably hanging out with. Show one of these soon-to-be-cast-out angels casually mentioning to him that they're thinking of bringing up a few of their concerns to "the boss" and would he be interested? It's worth a shot after all. What harm could it to?

Just anything to make it less fucking needlessly dramatic and serious.

#good omens critical #keep it light and comedic!!!!#let crowley be a bit snakey and a bit of a rude shit #he fell in with the wrong crowd fucked around and found out #he doesn't HATE hate his job he just doesn't like acting with his hellish superiors and 2 particularly nasty coworkers #and canonically believes humans can be mucj worse than demons anyway due to our imaginative abilities #and if neil still needed crowley to seem more fundamentally Good as a character then have the other angel(s) manipulate him a little #“mate you're not like these other drones - you're a free thinker! you've got tons of great ideas!”#“you're popular with Them Upstairs - They respect your vision. come with us and we can actually make some inprovements around here”#could've even had pre-fall furfur or shax or those demons with the horn hair whose name I can never remember having around in the scene #establish that they'd Always Been There #and providing a little visual gag #I knew we had a problem as soon as crowley described himself as saunterinf vaguely downwards in s1 #because then it became subjective #rather than an objective description of the character given by the authors #it was now crowley's chosen narrative about his fall #and then we got him angsting in his apartment #and crying in the pub #and it was like 'oh for this crowley its just a story hes constructed about himself to put up a protective wall amount his Big Emotions'#and I did not care for it!!!!#etc

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waywardsalt · 1 year

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drawing is difficult for me and writing is something i’m considerably better at sooooo…

written list of ideas i have for a humanoid design for bellum bc i think im finally zeroing in on something after a few uhhh years of brainstorming

(if you read this and have like. some ideas you want to share or some possible [constructive] criticisms go ahead and share them if you want)

Not actually properly humanoid; he can take on a fully human look but it isn’t his default and requires a bit more energy

Therefore, he usually lacks ears (they’re just. holes), finger or toe nails, a navel, an adam’s apple, or basically any kind of human detail that could be easily overlooked at first glance (maybe leaning into a bit uncanny?). He does have these traits when he actually puts the effort in to pass as human

The traits shared between his usual humanoid form and the more explicitly human form are: an eyepatch over his left eye (he doesn’t have a left eye or eye socket in either form. it’s like one-eyed willy in goonies), yellow hair (actually the same color as link’s), a lack of a nose (effectively like it’s been torn off, just leaving the nostril lines/openings), and a lot of large scars pretty much everywhere (some are just normal looking scars, like one across his face that looks like items from a wound that cost him his nose, while others vaguely resemble the markings on his body when he’s in demon/normal form), so either way he’s going to draw attention

In his usual form (more obviously nonhuman) his left eye is his usual black and orange eye, and he has sharp teeth, but he can switch those to appear more human if he’d like

He’s below the average height and appears to be only slightly muscular, logically more built for flexibility or with the build of a dancer, but his demonic strength remains, though his speed and flexibility is limited by the form he takes

His hair is a mess and mostly short, and if he’s in the more demonic-leaning human form, it’s usually got streaks of black (black is in there in some way, how it appears is still a wip) in all of the yellow

Clothing can vary but most commonly he chooses something loose and casual, he doesn’t particularly value his clothes and doesn’t really have anything to hide and so pick stuff that won’t drag him down or get snagged in a fight, flimsy loose clothes are good

Other times he’ll wear boots and gauntlets and gloves in a more serious context, usually opting for designs and materials similar to what he gives his phantoms, he doesn’t fully lean into the phantom-style of armor or fighting unless he needs to focus on defense, however

In either of his human forms, he’s still capable of fighting (and in his more demonic form he can use his tentacles, the come from his back), and doesn’t so much as have a fighting style as he generally just kills with whatever seems most convenient or entertaining at the time, ranging from creating a weapon for himself to use to just bashing a guy’s skull in with his bare hands

He’s very violent but can talk just fine and can be just about eloquent if he wants but usually leans into being more chaotic and acting the part of a brutal ruffian if the job can be completed using force, so a lot of the time he doesn’t even bother with looking explicitly human most of the time

He greatly prefers his demonic form and uses the human form for specific reasons, and can’t actually use it if he’s too weak

#bellum height is weird bc my idea of a tall/short ph realted character got skewed bad when i decided linebeck is 6’ 8”#now that im writing this out ive realized that im reasoning thst bellum’s human form looks the way it does to lure in prey yknow #he tries to look normal and friendly and unassuming and then he fucking kills you brutally or just by turning you to stone #it’s less like. gijinka or whatever and more just a form he can temporarily take if he wants and half of the time doesnt bother passing #he takes human form to more easily communicate or to directly get info from people or if he wants to do some brawling or whatever #timeline of humanoid bellum’s nose: went from vague nose shape to missing half the nose to just missing the whole nose #bellum having the same hair color as link is something i use to my advantage. he absolutely abuses looking related to link #im mostly having fun with his human design but it is something i need to figure out bc he does use it in a lot of my aus #this is a mess but its fine just wanted to share what ideas i have bc good lord this is hard #its harder to create a design for an existing nonhuman than to just whip one up for an oc obviously but still. man #listen unconsciously assigning 21st century schizoid man as my bellum song was good and bad at the same time #amazing vibes for this character fantastic now i have to work on the now-inherent prog/jazz rock vibes bc that doesnt fit the setting #also mixed dirty little animals in there so now we’ve got this crude and raucous scrappy demon who starts bar fights to bare-handedly kill #this kinda just turned into 'bellum w/ a human form headcanons' but ig its hard to talk abt visuals without. visuals #he changes depending on au cuz its the idea of like. immortal being learning from and adapting to their changing surroundings kinda thing #i think my personal fears abt this stuff is that then bellum comes off as v. like. edgy #also might be a bit of over-designing or whatever but idk???? accepting constructive criticism for a reason #loz #legend of zelda #phantom hourglass #bellum #salty talks #really putting this out there huh. ew. lol.#shoutouts to bellum's human form and my oc damien fletcher for finally getting somewhat stable designs after actual years

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belabellissima · 7 months

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wait i have a question that most definitely is not about me and my endless wips what are you talking about?

#bela talks #poll #most of these are just ideas and i havent actually written anything for four of them #or come up with a plot #only one has words put down #and two have vague vibes for how it'll go #and the last two are just... 'hey that would be fun' with nothing else attached #i... maybe could be persuaded though #new year's resolution perhaps???#although to answer my own question yes i do love canon i just also love putting characters in situations #also i feel like i need to mention these are all in one fandom. I have more in a different fandom.#I am a one trick pony #edit: what if I told you I have since plotted one of the last two #less than 24 hours later

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eyivibyemi · 11 months

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✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

#I actually like the background piano of this more than I like the weird singing improvised over it #probably just because it was vaguely cool to clank out something that even vaguely sounds like maybe an actual chord #that might exist or something despite - again- having so little clue about the piano or how to read music that I could #not even point out like what the names of the notes are or etc. ghghjbj #Which is still funny because if you improvise something and also have no idea how to read or identify musical notes then you will #never be able to play it again because you couldn't identify how to lol. THAT'S WHY I LIKE singing!!! I could hear any tune once and on the #spot repeat it back exactly as long as it's within the range of noises I am physically capable of producing #But with tangible insturments it's like... you have to memorize.. the names of things. or where to put your hands. or #be able to name and recognize something and keep that in your head. Whereas voice noises just come instinctually and naturally #I do think I could probably learn an instrument if I really tried but I guess the thing is just like.. I already have 4724867289 other hobb #es that I am trying to split my time between that I barely have enough energy to dedicate to all of them and hardly make #progress at any of them because I'm spread so thin jumping back and forth between them. should i REALLY pick up another???#one thats going to take years and years and lots of practice?? It's kind of like learning languages. I REALLY want to learn some other #languages and I'm not like terrible at it from times that I've started to beofre in school and stuff. but it's just like.. do I really have #the TIME?? I think I need a logical justification to warrant a certain level of investment like.. if I knew for certain that in a year I'd #be moving to france then of course I could dedicate many hours to learning french because now it's necessary and despite #all of my other projects that I have going on I need to make time for it. But if I'm just learning it for the sake of doing it? then??#why should I not simply dedicate that same amount of time to my writing or my sculptures or something else? etc?? Like if I for some reason #was talked into starting a band with one of my friends or something then yeah maybe I'd learn an instrument but. I just see no #practical need to or way to justify the time investment when I currently have so many other things going on and music is my silly hobby lol #ANYWAY.. all that to say. BECAUSE I have no clue what I'm doing and likely never will. then even when I do the most basic #boring sounding bit of barely passable zero skill hardly capable piano plonking or something I'm always like #wowww. wow. I did something. wow. music is so magical. peace and love on planet earth. hhbjhbjhb #ANYWAY.. so I like the background more than the singing but. eh. still sounds a little fantasy elf choir-esque #bantasy tag

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 21 days

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Pretty Boy | s.r. x fem!reader

a/n: you know i had to do something for glasses reid i’d be crazy not to.

“oh, here comes your pretty boy. capital p and b.” derek’s smooth voice entered your shared office with jj. you didn’t bother asking who, even coyly, he would just say something along the line of “your other half, pretty girl.”

so you rolled your eyes while scanning over a case file, not bothering to direct attention to the man. “and why the need to visit my space?” a teasing reply, both knowing his visits to the double liaison office were once in a blue moon.

there was the sound of shuffling before derek responded, “cause i wanna see your reaction.” such a vague answer that it caused you to pick your head up with a quizzical look, “what are-“ and you stopped when spencer poked his head through the cracked doorway.

“hey y/n, i brought you…” you didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. eyes too focused on spencer’s face and the new wardrobe attire perched along his nose.

your heart beat fast in your ears and you could feel your body warm in temperature. it was like you were sent back in time to high school and spencer was the insanely smart, pretty student ripped right from your fantasies. you hoped you weren’t drooling at the sight.

“y/n? you alright?” spencer’s voice was much closer now and when you blinked he was directly in front of you with the back of his hand to your forehead and a frown on his face. derek’s chuckles filled the crowded space and you couldn’t even manage a side eye.

“you feel warm. you didn’t happen to catch anything from the last case, did you?” full concern with round puppy eyes shining behind black frames. your heart was the picture of a popsicle melting on a hot summer day.

you took a swallow, “not- not that i know of.” eyes honed onto a freckle placed to the left of spencer’s chin.

derek laughed again, “ease up on her, pretty boy.” he moved closer and stood behind spencer’s left shoulder, a smug expression painted on his chiseled face.

“i’m just checking if she’s physically well.” spencer’s voice got high from defending himself and his actions while glaring at derek.

derek then jerked his chin at your sheepish expression, “well it’s declining each second you’re in her space.” joking at the expense of your crush, but spencer took it the wrong way and pulled his arm back to his side. “sorry, right boundaries. should’ve asked first.”

you managed to bounce back when he started moving away, “no! no, it’s- derek’s just joking. i- i don’t mind you touching me.” and it took two, two seconds, for your mind to process your wording.

“oh this is a great morning.” derek howled then decided he’s seen enough, leaving both of you hot and pink cheeked.

squeezing your eyes shut you wished for the floor to swallow you hole and drag you away from this situation. “i’m- i’m sorry… about that. bit- bit scattered brained right now.” trying to play everything off.

“you- you sure you’re alright? i’m certain hotch will let you leave early.” spencer’s brows pinched in the middle turning his face into more of a pout. oh he has no idea the effect on you.

you smiled gentle at his worry, “i’m well, just been staring at potential cases too long, that’s all.” fingering at the edge of the manilla folder in your lap.

“also i like the new look,” circling a finger around your eyes to play charades with him than just mention the holy glasses. “they suit you nicely.” friendly but said with a hint of flirty.

spencer’s smiled widened and his cheeks turned from bubblegum pink to a rosie hue, oh how you wish to just cover him in thousands of kisses. “thanks. i ran out of contacts for the month so i’m stuck with these until then.” making it sound like an inconvenience, but oh how you were gonna suffering for a month of those handsome frames.

you turned your head away before you were caught staring for too long and saw a baby pink bag sitting beside your picture frames. you reached out to grab it then pulled it apart to see a sweet morning treat awaiting for your teeth to sink in. “did you bring this?” asking spencer since you then remember that he said something when arriving but you didn’t hear what.

spencer straightened up and happily beamed, “yeah! i was walking past that pastry shop you like and thought you’d enjoy something for all your hard work.” you both knew that was a straight lie since that pastry shop is an extra ten minutes out of either of yours work routes.

but you didn’t comment on it just looked spencer in the eye and said softly, “thank you, spence. you’re very sweet.” and with a sudden boldness you leaned forward to press a delicate kiss onto his right cheek.

pulling back you noticed spencer’s lips were slightly parted, he looked almost winded from the sudden action. you were gonna apologize if you over stepped but then jj entered her office with derek trailing behind.

“uh… hi.” she stopped two steps inside then saw the way you both fidgeted to appear normal. as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed… “hi, welcome.” “everything normal here.” you and spencer talked over each other.

“okay, not even gonna ask…” waving a folder about, “but i found a case and hotch approved so into the conference room for debriefing.” jj gave both of you a final stare then walked around derek to flee the scene.

“come on pretties, you can smooch later.” “derek!”

#erin writes #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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sunderwight · 4 months

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Shang Qinghua strikes me as the type who would only pursue a particular cultivation skill if it had some utility to making his everyday life easier or some specific task more doable, not even register that he'd achieved anything impressive with his cultivation in the process, and then carry on firm in the belief that this is a normal skill that every other cultivator has probably already acquired. Because if it's useful, why wouldn't they?

Like he thinks cultivation is cool and all, but (as can be evidenced by some of his writing choices) he's not really interested in it for its own sake. So everything he chooses to pursue has a reason. Usually that reason is "letting him be done with this tedious task so that he can possibly scrape together some free time, or at least more time to do other tasks."

This is why, despite sword arts being very cool and dashing and all, Shang Qinghua doesn't really bother learning a lot of swordsmanship or fighting skills. There are pretty few situations where wielding a sword is useful, most of those situations are ones which Shang Qinghua doesn't want to be involved in, and nearly all of his martial siblings are better at and more interested in fighting anyway.

He knows that martial prowess is popular and attractive, but it's boring. Sword drills? Dull as hell. There's a reason he came up with a super cursed sword that let his protagonist immediately win almost any fight, with consequences that just led to more interesting drama or conflicts to write about. His fight scenes were at least as boring and repetitive as his sex scenes, let's be real.

The end result is that Shang Qinghua's cultivation is probably deeply weird.

Like he's done muscle-reinforcement but not for combat, it's so that if he needs to he can literally pick up a recalcitrant ox and move it. He mastered inedia because remembering to eat and finding a moment to do it during An Ding's inventory week was harder. He introduced flying carpets to the setting after he transmigrated because figuring out how to transport items on some compatible spiritual device that was bigger than a sword blade, and could thus hold like a chest of goods or baskets of supplies, was way too convenient to pass up. He has selective knowledge of various skills, like alchemy, medicine, smithing, etc, things that are usually only brought up at the master level (thanks to his author knowledge cheat) but he doesn't know most of the basics of those skills, and he only deploys his knowledge for like, hyper specific tasks largely unrelated to the field.

He probably drives Mu Qingfang and Wei Qingwei crazy because he'll drop expert niche knowledge that they know is expert niche knowledge into a random discussion out of the blue, but then can't actually sustain a conversation about it because he doesn't know all the usual accompanying information. Mu Qingfang counting slowly backwards from ten because somehow Shang Qinghua knows that a super rare tonic made from a believed-to-be-extinct plant can bestow temporarily telekinesis to those who imbibe it, but doesn't know anything else about the medicinal uses of the plant, the history of the tonic, or other tonics that can achieve similar results with varying side-effects. But he knows what this one hyper-specific thing will do and he knows, very very vaguely, how to make it. Somehow.

Which would be less weird if it was just one thing, because people do pick up odd bits of knowledge or skills from unexpected places now and again. But it happens all the time. Seemingly at complete random! He also, as said, doesn't just do it with knowledge but with skills. No idea of basic leveling up, Shang Qinghua singles out what he wants from a process and then just does enough to get it and skips everything else that usually goes with it.

I bet he's like thirty before it comes to light that he has no idea how to actually do basic meditation, or something, and Yue Qingyuan does that thing where he smiles placidly while dying inside because how? Shang-shidi is a peak lord! How does a peak lord not know how to meditate properly?!

(In Shang Qinghua's defense, meditating involves spending a lot of time just focusing on one's self and not doing anything else, and he is a busy man! And he actually has mastered a form of meditation, but it's a kind Cang Qiong doesn't usually teach and that you do while also performing repetitive tasks. Usually those repetitive tasks are things like "repeatedly punching the exact same spot on a tree until the tree topples" but Shang Qinghua's are more like "reviewing a thousand nearly identical requisition forms and eating melon seeds at a steady rate" type stuff. When other people expect him to meditate he just sits quietly for a minute until they leave.)

#svsss #shang qinghua #airplane shooting towards the sky #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain

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fangswbenefits · 6 months

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Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed.

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips.

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire.

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

#astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!reader #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion bg3

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microclown · 5 months

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I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..

Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?

Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.

As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.

That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.

Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.

I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"

But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.

It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!

And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.

And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.

idk it just makes me feel things ok

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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I went down the internet rabbit hole trying to figure out wtf vegan cheese is made of and I found articles like this one speaking praises of new food tech startups creating vegan alternatives to cheese that Actually work like cheese in cooking so I was like huh that's neat and I looked up more stuff about 'precision fermentation' and. This is not good.

Basically these new biotech companies are pressuring governments to let them build a ton of new factories and pushing for governments to pay for them or to provide tax breaks and subsidies, and the factories are gonna cost hundreds of millions of dollars and require energy sources. Like, these things will have to be expensive and HUGE

I feel like I've just uncovered the tip of the "lab grown meat" iceberg. There are a bajillion of these companies (the one mentioned in the first article a $750 MILLION tech startup) that are trying to create "animal-free" animal products using biotech and want to build large factories to do it on a large scale

I'm trying to use google to find out about the energy requirements of such facilities and everything is really vague and hand-wavey about it like this article that's like "weeeeeell electricity can be produced using renewables" but it does take a lot of electricity, sugars, and human labor. Most of the claims about its sustainability appear to assume that we switch over to renewable electricity sources and/or use processes that don't fully exist yet.

I finally tracked down the source of some of the more radical claims about precision fermentation, and it comes from a think tank RethinkX that released a report claiming that the livestock industry will collapse by 2030, and be replaced by a system they're calling...

Food-as-Software, in which individual molecules engineered by scientists are uploaded to databases – molecular cookbooks that food engineers anywhere in the world can use to design products in the same way that software developers design apps.

I'm finding it hard to be excited about this for some odd reason

Where's the evidence for lower environmental impacts. That's literally what we're here for.

There will be an increase in the amount of electricity used in the new food system as the production facilities that underpin it rely on electricity to operate.

well that doesn't sound good.

This will, however, be offset by reductions in energy use elsewhere along the value chain. For example, since modern meat and dairy products will be produced in a sterile environment where the risk of contamination by pathogens is low, the need for refrigeration in storage and retail will decrease significantly.

Oh, so it will be better for the Earth because...we won't need to refrigerate. ????????

Oh Lord Jesus give me some numerical values.

Modern foods will be about 10 times more efficient than a cow at converting feed into end products because a cow needs energy via feed to maintain and build its body over time. Less feed consumed means less land required to grow it, which means less water is used and less waste is produced. The savings are dramatic – more than 10-25 times less feedstock, 10 times less water, five times less energy and 100 times less land.

There is nothing else in this report that I can find that provides evidence for a lower carbon footprint. Supposedly, an egg white protein produced through a similar process has been found to reduce environmental impacts, but mostly everything seems very speculative.

And crucially none of these estimations are taking into account the enormous cost and resource investment of constructing large factories that use this technology in the first place (existing use is mostly for pharmaceutical purposes)

It seems like there are more tech startups attempting to use this technology to create food than individual scientific papers investigating whether it's a good idea. Seriously, Google Scholar and JSTOR have almost nothing. The tech of the sort that RethinkX is describing barely exists.

Apparently Liberation Labs is planning to build the first large-scale precision fermentation facility in Richmond, Indiana come 2024 because of the presence of "a workforce experienced in manufacturing"

And I just looked up Richmond, Indiana and apparently, as of RIGHT NOW, the town is in the aftermath of a huge fire at a plastics recycling plant and is full of toxic debris containing asbestos and the air is full of toxic VOCs and hydrogen cyanide. ???????????? So that's how having a robust industrial sector is working out for them so far.

#CAPITALISM IS THE PROBLEM #AAAAAAAAAA #farming #sustainability

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sweet-as-an-angel · 4 months

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how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival.

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two.

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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