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oh-look-at-her · 2 months

Text

"I can do....terrible things to you."

Pairing: agardian!reader x Loki

Warnings: profanity, PinV, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, use of pet names (Prince, princess, pet, dearest, etc), Loki is a warning in itself, degradation, mocking, name calling (just once I think), choking (for a little while), just smut in general

Author's note: I just wanted to say this is my first ever written fic so have mercy on me. I just really wanted to use that sentence from the Loki series🤭It was also supposed to be shorter...it did not keep to that. I also wanted to say that with the word "undergarment" I do not mean modern day underwear. I mean undergarment as in from the 1700's (like depicted in the photo underneath this text). Don't ask me why I decided to do that, I don't know. I think I've just been watching too much Outlander these last few days. Alr I'll stop my rambling now. I hope everyone enjoys♡

“Oh dear gods, another ball. How many of these are they going to organize?” Was my first thought when Thor asked me to go as his guest yet again the other day. I thought I wouldn’t be going.

And yet, here i am. Standing in a corner in the main hall of the majestic golden palace that the formerly mentioned prince calls home, with a glass of liquor in one hand and a small snack i grabbed from a faraway table in the other. Though i did want to support Thor in his victories of the week, that was not the true reason i came to another loud party.

“Quite the partygoer lately. Tell me, is it just because you enjoy being around obnoxiously drunk people or are you trying to charm my dear brother?"

And there it is. The infamous Loki Odinson, prince of Asgard, God of mischief and lies, to the irritation of many people. I know I wouldn't mind him getting mischievous at all though....

I eat the little one-bite snack in hopes of it distracting me from my thoughts, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, Loki keeps talking with a grin on his face and a sultry tone to his voice.

"If it is the latter, I suggest you stop, since he seems to have quite the interest in that other woman he's been eyeing all night."

I give him the best cocky look I can muster and answer back; "Thor does not have any interest in me and neither do I in him. He gets to ogle whoever he wishes, I thought you would know this, being his brother. Tell me, where is the sudden interest in your brother's love life coming from, dear prince."

"Oh please, a blind man would know he was shamelessly into her. Besides, how could I not be interested when my brother continuously invites the same woman to his... Celebrations."

He ogles me suspiciously, as if he doesn't believe I wasn't interested in that loveable blonde buffoon. I myself have a different type of God in mind. I opt to try and change his mind.

"Thor and I are friends. Why are you so interested in this?"

He hums dismissively and ogles the ongoing party.

"No interest in dancing?" he changes the subject.

"No, this dress is not a dancing type dress. Too tight and heavy. I should've opted for another, but it's too late now." he looked my dress up and down as I spoke, seemingly uninterested, though his tone of voice said otherwise.

"Well, beauty over functionality, isn't it? Seems as if you've succeeded in that area, at least."

My stomach flips and the corners of my mouth lift up into a faint taunting smile as I look up at him. "You think I look beautiful?"

He looks back at me, a faint trace of surprise tainting his expression. "Well yes, I wouldn't have said what i did if I did not think it. When have I ever been known to lie about my opinions, dearest?"

My mind jumps at the mention of the pet name and the compliment paired with it and although I tried to hide my surprise, the faint smirk on the God's face tells me enough. Nevertheless, I look at him with a playful light in my voice.

"Well, you are the god of lies. I would expect you to live up to this Title, as you do your other titles."

"Ah, and what titles are these, pray tell?" he asks as he looks at me with disdain, as if I offended him.

"Those of you being the god of mischief, as well as a relentless trickster. Though people say you usually can't do much harm." I chuckle at Sif's offensive words towards the prince of Asgard.

He chuckles with me, though I suspect because of something else, because his expression had turned darker, his gaze falling on mine again.

"Well, I assure you that I can do... Terrible things to you and anybody I wish."

He says in a low, dark voice, his unrelenting gaze catching the widening of my eyes and the heaving of my chest at his threatening words. Although his words do anything but scare me.

Is that a promise? I think to myself, my mind running wild with the different context his words could be said in.

He grins at me, still not letting his eyes wander from mine. "Do you want it to be?" he suddenly asks.

"What?" I manage to spurt out, shock and excitement having taken over my mind.

"Do you want it to be a promise?" he repeats his question with that same dark, knowing smile on his face.

Did I say that out loud? I'm certain I didn't.

"No, you didn't." he answers my thoughts once again and fear and embarrasment seep into my bones as I realize how he had known.

"How long have you been reading my mind?" I ask him with a shaky voice. He chuckles again, knowing he has the upper hand now. He drops his gaze to his shoulder gently touching mine. When did that happen?

"While you were inquiring why I was so interested in my brother's 'love life' as you put it."

Oh. My. Gods. He had seen and heard every single thing I had been thinking. How embarrassing. I wanted to dig a hole to Hel and stay there until I had melted into the fires forever.

"That's a bit dramatic." he tells me. I move away from him with a scowl, taking care that we didn't touch anymore so he couldn't read my mind any longer, but he already knew all of it. He had heard all my lewd thoughts about him and he thought it funny.

He still has that annoyingly handsome smirk plastered on his face as he gestures for us to move away from the busy crowd and into the halls that lead to various rooms. I decide to follow him. All the harm that could be done had already been done, so why not? He knew it all now. He is silent as we walk through the halls, muffled music still being heard from the party.

"You know, I would expect you to say something...." I trail off as he stops walking and opens a door we arrived at. He gestures for me to enter the room.

It is a lavishly elegant room, accents of gold layered the cream colored walls, a nightstand with multiple drawers and a bed with silky sheets line the left wall, while the other side of the room is dedicated to a roaring fireplace and two lounge couches in the same shade of green as the silk sheets on the bed. In the middle of the wall I am facing, there is a lavish balcony that had a beautiful view towards Asgard. Loki walks towards the bed and sits down on the golden bench in front of it.

I stay by the door, looking at him expectantly, hoping he would clear up the fact that we just entered (what I presumed is) his room without a word being said. He sighs and finally opens his mouth.

"Yes, you're right. I should say something." he pauses for a moment, looking me up and down, though this time not in a rude manner. No, this time it felt more like... Admiration. The God of Mischief and Lies is looking at me with admiration.

"You're a beautiful woman. I must say, I had my eye on you ever since you entered this castle for the first time. Though I thought my brother had claimed you for his own, due to him always inviting you to these gatherings. When you told me this wasn't the case, I decided to see if you were being truthfull or not. I must admit, it was an invasion of your privacy, but I do not regret it one bit."

He gestures for me to join him and sit next to him. I oblige and walked over to him, opting to stand due to the uncomfortability of my dress. He notices this and looked down with a smile gracing his lips.

"So yes, what I said is true. You are beautiful, though this dress could never do you justice. Plus, you seem incredibly uncomfortable in it."

I scoff at his words. "What, are you going to offer to take it off of me? I've heard that line a thousand times, it is not original. Besides, I very well think this dress makes me look exquisite. Why else would I wear it?"

"I did not say you didn't look beautiful in the dress. I am merely noting that it does not do you justice." he answers cockily

"And what would do me justice then, Prince?" I spit back at him, getting a little annoyed at his degrading tone, making my mind wander to unholy places once more.

His low chuckle echoes in my ears. Gods, that chuckle. It's so... Seductive.

"Won't tell, princess." the pet name surprises me. Sure, I had called him Prince, but he is a genuine Prince. I feigned nonchalance.

"Ah, there it is. Let me guess, you'd have to take off my dress to show me?" his playful expression turns into one of ice, filled with lust and seduction. It was a thrilling sight to see.

"You'd let me." he said, with full confidence, because he knew it was true. I didn't need to answer him as he stands and closes the small distance between us, making me look up because of his obnoxiously tall figure.

The playful twinkle in his eye had been replaced with something dark, possessive almost. My breath hitches in my throat as his hand ghosts up until it reached the dip of my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him.

And I let him.

His gaze was ice cold as he inspected my entire face and figure again. Gods, I love it when he does that. He dips his head until I feel his breath near my ear.

"I know." he whispers into my ear. This asshole was reading my mind any time he could, but even if i could stop him, I don't think i would. He lifts his head to look at me again, this time a devillish smirk is playing at the corners of his mouth again.

Please kiss me already.

I beg to myself and I know he heard it. He finally dips his head down to my lips, I part them as I desperately await his kiss. He doesn't kiss me yet, though. He chuckles at my sigh of frustration, though it sounds more like a whine than I had intended.

His amused and torturous gaze lands on my desperate one. "What is it, pet?" he whispers against my lips. So close.... He knows exactly what he's doing. Of course he does. I'd waited so long, stayed up so many nights because of the thought of him being this close. Or closer....

My eyebrows furrowed at the thought of these nights and I know he saw. I know he knows exactly what I'm thinking, but I don't care. I want him. And I'll have him.

"Will you, now? Last I checked, I'm the Prince here. You are under my command, are you not?" he outright laughs at my attempt to kiss him, get him closer to me in any way. He moves away from me, opting to move towards one of the lavish Green couches on the other side of the room. He looks at me over his shoulder while he did so, plaguing me, teasing me with the distance he's creating.

I stare at my hands, nervously playing with my fingers whilst trying not to grieve the loss of his touch. His hand on my waist, His chest pressing against mine, his lips so close to mine... I hear him walking around for a bit while I'm still fidgeting with my fingers, not daring to look his way unless asked.

"Don't get shy now, pet. Look at me." I lift my head to see him sitting comfortably on the couch, his fine asgardian leather suddenly having been replaced with a pair of comfortable looking black lounge pants and... No shirt.

He's trying to get under my skin, I know it. But I don't care one bit as I let my gaze travel along the impressive muscle tone of the Prince, trailing from his shoulders to his chest, from his chest to his toned abs, from his abs to that perfect V-shape that's only disrupted by the thin fabric of his pants.

I let my eyes wander further up now, admiring the strong biceps and, Gods, those perfectly veiny arms. And finally those hands...i could stare at them all day, just the sight of them makes me almost want to drool.

He's so perfect. And he knows it as I finally meet his icy gaze and that same goddamn smirk that made my heart freeze and my hands tremble.

He knows it when he gestures for me to walk towards him and close the distance he so painstakingly created just a minute ago.

He knows it when he stands before me, pulling at the strong threads that were holding my dress together, making the first layer of my dress fall to the ground.

He knows it when he carefully unties my corset with gentle patience, unlacing it with his slender fingers and finally taking it off of me.

He knows it when I'm standing before him in my undergarment, looking me up and down, not with just hunger or lust, but with adoration and relief. The sheer fabric does nothing to hide my body, even showing off my nipples that had hardened due to the cold night air.

And gods, does he know it when he guides my arms to lay on his shoulders, peppering tender kisses onto every inch of skin he can find, pulling me closer and finally granting me the kiss I had been longing for ever since I had seen him for the first time.

His lips capture mine so perfectly in a dance of passion, not at all what I had expected from a God of mischief. I had expected something feral, completely driven by lust. Hel, I'm not sure I even expected him to outright kiss me. No, this exceeds all my expectations.

He carefully bites my lower lip, granting him entrance to lick inside my mouth and taste me, deepening the kiss. The feeling of excitement and arousal growing with every passing second.

He grinds himself into me, pulling me closer and closer. I can feel his cock getting hard through the fabric of his pants, making me clench my cunt around nothing. My hands roamed through his hair, not nearly as greasy as I had imagined, instead I am met with soft curls and a pretty sound coming from the Prince's lips as I tug at them.

He's everywhere. His arms around my waist, squeezing it tight and keeping me close to him. He overtowers me by far, and he has to lean down a distance even with me standing on my tiptoes to reach. His scent, his taste, his hands.

Gods, I need him. He breaks the kiss, but not without tugging at my bottom lip another time, a little rougher now, though.

His breath is steady, whereas mine is ragged and uncontrollable as he rests his forehead against mine, his lips still hovering so close to mine.

"I know, I need you too. You've no idea how long I've wanted you." he whispers, again answering my thoughts. I didn't mind this time, though. I want him to hear and see everything I am thinking. I want him to know what I want.

But that doesn't mean I'm not going to play first. He had been so gentle and loving and it feels so good to be worshipped, but that would have to wait for another time.

He lifts his head up to look at me. "What is it?" he asks, curiosity lacing his voice.

I smile at him, hoping it looks as seductive and entrancing as I want it to and take his hand, slowly guiding him towards the bed.

Upon reaching it, I lie down comfortably in the midst of the bed, tugging at him to do the same. He climbs on top of me, again ogling me with curiosity. This surprises me, if he was still reading my mind he would know what I am doing.

"Opting to not read my mind anymore?" I ask, with a smile.

"I thought it'd be more fun if I don't know exactly what you're going to do before you do it." he grins, seeing that this has pleased me. Now I can do what i want.

I tangle my hands in his hair again, watching his face as it contorts into a relaxed expression as I tug a bit at the strands again. I bring his lips to mine again, but this time, I want it to be different. I bite his lip roughly, making him open his mouth in surprise as I lick into him now, tasting berries and a tinge of alcohol on his tongue. I moan into his mouth at the taste and it seems he finally realized what I was trying to do. He kisses me back hungrily, seizing control again, much to my liking. He abruptly pulls away afterwards, much to my dismay.

He looks down at me with a knowing smirk on his face. "What's wrong, princess? Don't want me to be nice anymore? What do you want? Go on, say it. I know you know exactly what it is." he urges me on with a sultry tone to his words.

"Please...i want you to be mean to me."

"Really?" he feigns surprise, "whatever would you mean by that, darling?" he asks, starting to tease me by peppering kisses along my jaw.

"I want-" he shifts his body so he's lying perfectly on top of me. I can feel his cock rubbing against my clothed cunt and it sends a shiver down my spine. "Please just-" his kisses grow hungrier as he guides himself down to my neck. "Could you please be rough..." he bites down on my neck, emitting a gasp from me. I think that was his answer to my plea.

He is indeed rougher now, biting and suckling on the soft skin of my neck, gradually moving down... To my shoulder... To my collarbone... And then. The hem of my undergarment.

He looks at me while twirling his finger around the measly little thread. The only thing that's between him and my bare body. The only thing he'd have to loosen before slipping my last piece of clothing from me and leaving me bare. And that's exactly what he did.

He slowly, teasingly pulls at the thread and folds the fabric to the side, revealing my tits to him. He rips his eyes from mine and finally meets my bare chest, looking at it like a starved man would a plate of hot food.

He started where he left off, just below my collarbone he peppered kisses and bites again. Slow, agonizing, teasing movements until he finally reached my hardened nipple, waiting, aching for him.

He hungrily takes the sensitive bud into his mouth, suckling on it with rough movements, his hand coming up to cup my other boob roughly. I whine at the sensation, his tongue lavishly doing its job in pleasuring me.

After a while, he flashes me a devillish smile before moving onto the other nipple, suckling at the same pace, much to my relief as it is the perfect pace and he knows this.

I squirm underneath him, whining and moaning as he keeps suckling on my nipple, the sensation making me crave for more. I grind against his hard-on and I swear I heard a whimper coming from the Prince's mouth. He stills for a moment, his hands clawing at my hips to stop me from moving.

"Be patient, pet. Let me enjoy you." is all he says before continuing to suck on my tits, keeping me on edge and increasing my arousal a thousand fold while doing so.

His hands explored my body with rough motions. Grabbing my waist, squeezing it, fondling my tit. Finally he reaches my shoulders, his hands slide down the length of my arms and he grabs my hands before pulling his mouth off of my nipple.

He sits up straight and, while never breaking eye contact, brings my right hand up to his mouth and kisses it. A stark contrast to how he was sucking on my tits just a second ago, but not unwelcome. He kisses my wrist now, then my forearm, then my bicep, then my shoulder.

Then he switches his attention to my neck again, bruising and marking me, coaxing soft moans from me. There would be no way to cover up those spots, although I'm not sure I'd want to or if he would let me.

He continues his trail of kisses downwards again, this time dragging my undergarment down with him. He stopped for a moment to look at me again.

"Off." he gestures towards my undergarment. I obey and quickly slip off the feeble piece of fabric, discarding it on the floor next to his bed. Once I face him again, completely bare now, he looks at me with approval.

"Good girl." he whispers under his breath, but I heard. I smile at his words of praise as he looks me up and down hungrily. He leans down and, while maintaining eye contact, licked a stripe up my body from my hips to my chest.

I breathe out a moan at this scandalous action. He flashes me a cunning smile before biting my nipple gently, coaxing a surprised gasp from me. He continues biting and suckling on my skin, moving down... Down... Down. Until he reaches my thighs.

He wraps his hands around my knees and spread them apart as far as they'll go, slowly and teasingly he leans down again. He starts kissing my thigh, occasionally softly biting down to coax an unexpected whimper from me.

He finally inches closer to where I need him the most. He looks at my pussy with hunger in his eyes, licking his lips and looking up at me. He softly blows on it, making me moan from the sensation. I grab ahold of his locks again, hoping to be able to push him down and just make him have me already, but he doesn't let me.

"Impatient now, are we? I can certainly tell with how wet you are. Is this all for me, pet?" he asks me as his hands caress my thighs. I don't know how to answer him, so I just whine and buck my hips towards him, hoping that he gets the message.

He chuckles at my desperate attempts at seeking his tongue. "Please..." I beg, feeling nothing but longing for the god in between my legs in this moment. He sighs before demanding; "please what?"

"Please just take me already, Loki." I answer him in an annoyed tone, but before I can release a huff of annoyance, he licks a stripe from my hole to my clit. I moan languidly at the unexpected move.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks teasingly.

"Yes, Gods, yes." I sigh, throwing my head back.

He chuckles at my pathetic tone and starts lapping up the arousal that had been gathering all evening. He moans at the taste, reveling in it as he flicks his tongue over my clit.

His movements have me keening and bucking my hips as he fucks his tongue into me. People said he had a cunning tongue to him(although probably not in this context) and they were right. Gods, does he know how to eat a woman out.

His tongue laps at me at just the right pace, fucking in and out of my cunt, softly suckling on my clit. He brought his hand up to cup my tit as he did so, overwhelming my senses and making me grab onto his hair. This coaxed another moan out of him, sending vibrations throughout my body.

I can feel the coil in my stomach beginning to tighten. I'm close and he knows it, because he suddenly changes his original pace to a slower one, making me whine.

"Loki.... Don't be mean." I tell him.

He stops his movements altogether now, looking up at me with a cocky grin. "What's the matter, princess?" he feigns pity.

"You know exactly what, i was close." I huff, sexual frustration coaxing through my whole body.

He laughs at my attitude. "You don't get to decided when you cum, pet. I do. You are under my command now and what I say goes." he answers in a dark, possessive tone of voice.

His words make my stomach flip and my pussy clench around nothing. He's so attractive, I can't help it. He knows it, noting my reaction to his words. He lifts his head from between my thighs and climbs back on top of me, his face right in front of mine. I can't help but admire him, especially from this angle. His hair framing his face, his eyes piercing my own, his lips... In that sadistic smile.

"What? Do you like it when i control you? Do you want to be my toy, hm?" he whispers, looking me right in the eyes, never letting go of my gaze. He catches the widening of my pupils, the quickening pace of my breath, the desperation in my eyes. No, he doesn't need to read my mind to know how i feel.

He leans down, brushing his lips over mine. I try to catch his lips with mine, but he doesn't let me. He's teasing me again. I whine as he laughs at me.

He laughs at me. How dare he, when i want him so bad and I know he wants me too. How dare he, when he knows how desperate I am for his touch. How dare he, when I'm lying naked underneath him and he is denying me what I want.

"What is it? Annoyed? What do you want, princess?" he asked me tauntingly.

I lift up my hand to caress him. I let my hand slide higher up the back of his neck, having my fingers intertwine with his locks and pulling him down by them until my lips are right next to his ear. He lets me.

I lick at his earlobe experimentally and a soft moan comes from the God's lips that I enjoyed a little too much. I took his earlobe in my mouth and sucked on it a few times, making Loki melt on top of me.

I stop only to whisper in his ear; "I want you to fuck me." his entire demeanor changes as he looks me in the eyes. I'm suddenly hyper aware of my naked body and his hard length pushing against my thigh through his pants. The thought of him fucking me with it makes a pleasurable shiver run up my spine.

He flashes me a cunning smile and gets off the bed, leaving me cold and naked. His gaze scans over me while he takes off his lounge pants. My eyes land on his now bare cock, the sight making my mouth water and my pussy clench.

Gods, it looks delicious. I wouldn't mind having a taste of it. It's long yet still girthy and I'm suddenly nervous about the sheer size of it. He looks at me knowingly before finally getting on the bed again and on top of me. He settles in between my legs to admire me again.

"Turn around, pet." he commands. I do as he says and turn around, keeping myself upright with my knees and having my arms stretched out in front of me. He lets his hand travel the flesh of my thighs, the curve of my ass, the dip of my waist.

I can hear the sheets ruffling and I'm about to look behind me to see what he was doing, before I feel his tongue on my cunt again. I moan at the unexpected feeling. He laps at my pussy for a bit, drinking my arousal like it's his favorite beverage. He lets go of my waist and I feel his finger spreading my lips apart.

"So wet all for me. Look at that, pet. You're throbbing." fuck, and I can feel it as he uses his finger to spread my arousal through my pussy lips. The friction has me bucking my hips when i suddenly feel his finger probing at my entrance.

He pushes his slender finger inside of me, making me moan out his name. He curls his finger, making it hit that spongy spot inside of me. Gods, he's making me go feral. He pulls out his finger now, but before I can whine at the loss, he enters two fingers inside me.

He pumps his fingers in and out for a bit, but then switches to scissoring them inside my cunt, making me almost squeal in pleasure. He begins to lick at my clit again. The feeling of him sucking at the sensitive bud and scissoring his finger inside of me has me keening and the coil in my stomach quickly tightening.

My pussy clamps down on his fingers and he knows I'm about to cum. He suddenly stops all his movements, keeping his fingers inside my cunt, making me whine and mewl at my failed orgasm.

"Stop your whining. Didn't I tell you? I decide when you cum and I won't let you cum unless it's on my cock, do you understand?" I whine at his words, my mind being too far gone to string together coherent sentences to answer him.

"So pathetic for me. Look at you, lying there with your ass up just for me. And you like it, don't you?" I whine in response. "Of course you do, you're mine now. I'll do anything I want to you and you'll let me." he proves his point by spreading apart my ass cheeks and licking a stripe from my clit to my ass. I moan at the sensation.

"Do you want me to fuck you? Hm? Do you want me to make you mine?" he splays his hand down on my scalp, scratching it with his fingernails before tightly grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling me up against his chest.

"Yes! Yes, please, make me yours. Please, Loki." I beg pathetically, but I don't care. I want him to fuck me already and I'll say anything to make it so.

He harshly throws me down on the bed again, shoving my face into the pillow in the process. I yelp at the unexpected action. Loki's hand travels now from out of my hair, over my back, my waist, to my ass. His other hand pumps up and down his dick slowly.

He starts to tease me with the tip of his cock, guiding it through my folds and spreading my arousal and his precum. I moan at the feeling, bucking my hips because why is he not railing me yet?

He stops his movements, his cock stilling right where my entrance is. I'm about to ask him why he stopped when i feel the tip of his dick entering me. I let out a near pornographic moan. Fuck, is he gooood.

The stretch feels so good after all his teasing, but he's not pushing any more of his cock in. Instead, leaving just the tip and staying where he is. I whine when i realize this and he knows exactly why.

"What is it? You want more, pet? Don't be greedy, take what I give you." he says, with a degrading tone to his voice that makes my cunt squeeze down on him. He cursed at this notion, but stayed as he is. I try to buck my hips to get more of him, but his strong hands are keeping me in place.

"Please, come on, I've been good. Pleaseeee." I beg him. "Please, Loki, i-" before I can finish my sentence he thrusts his whole length into me in one swift movement, making me choke on a sob from the pain and pleasure.

He doesn't still to let me adjust. Instead, he sets a rough pace. Fucking in and out of me fast and deep. So fucking deep, I can feel him in my stomach. I'm sure that if I had the physical strength to reach, I would be able to feel a bulge in my stomach from his cock.

My curses are high pitched and incoherent as the snap of his hips continues. "That what you wanted? Did you want to be fucked like this, hm?" I sob at his words, too overwhelmed to say anything.

"Is it too much, pet? But you were just begging me to take you, begging me to make you mine."

"T-too much-" I manage to stutter out in between his thrusts.

"Shut up, you can take it." he says in a mean tone of voice that send a shiver down my spine. "You asked for it. This is what greedy whores get." my pussy squeezes him like a vice at the degrading name he called me. Fuck, did that turn me on.

"Oh, you like being called that, hm? You like being treated like a dumb bitch." he says, grabbing a handful of my hair again and lifting up my head. "Don't you?" he asks me, emphasizing his words with a deep thrust. I answer with a guttural moan. He seems content with that answer, though. A sadistic smile claiming his lips.

"Turn over." he says all of a sudden, pulling his cock out of me and I whine at the empty feeling before obeying his order and lying down on my back now.

He leans down again and catches my lips in an aggressive kiss. He licks at my bottom lip, into my mouth. He thrusts back inside of me fully, catching me off guard. He swallows the moan it coaxes out of me and starts thrusting at the same unforgiving pace.

I close my eyes, too far gone to keep them open from the pleasure. His hand snaked towards my neck and chokes me, making my eyes shoot wide open and my hand clamp on to his.

"There we go." he says with a smile. "Keep your eyes on me, pet." so I do. I try with all my might to keep my eyes on him. Gods, the choking isn't helping. My senses are all overwhelmed, completely focused on the feeling of his cock spearing into me.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

I hear him curse under his breath when i feel the coil in my stomach tightening for the third time this evening, making my pussy clamp down on him again.

"Fuck, so tight for me. You feel so good." he brings his free hand to my clit, rubbing calculated circles onto the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I wanna cum inside you. Let me?" it sounds more like a demand than a question, but I shakily nod my head anyway.

The coil in my stomach gets tighter by the second. The snapping of his hips, the squeezing of his hand on my throat, the circling of his thumb on my clit. All of it.

Tightening... Tightening....

"Cum for me, princess." he tells me.

The coil snaps and the best orgasm of my life rips through my body. My pussy clamps down on him like a vice, my eyes roll to the back of my head, my jaw falls slack. He fucks me through my high and I can hear him cursing at how tight I am.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum inside you." he curses, his pace growing sloppy as he's nearing his high. He keeps fucking up into me, making me cry out from overstimulation.

A string of curse words falls from his lips as I feel his hot cum painting my walls. He rides out his high, letting his body relax on top of me. He embraces me gently, a stark contrast to how he was fucking me just a second ago. His hips cease their rocking motion.

We lie there for a bit like that; Him carefully holding me, his cock growing soft inside of me. Our sweaty bodies unwinding and relaxing against each other. I come to after a bit, finally snapping out of my brainless daze.

"So you really thought that I was fucking your brother?" I ask him.

"Yes, I did." he sighs. I chuckle at his tired response.

"So what was your first thought when you read my mind and figured out I most certainly was not?"

"Surprise at the disgusting thoughts that courses through your head about me, mainly." he says tauntingly. "But also relief."

"Awhh how sweet." I coax.

"You know, I was right." he says in a cocky tone.

"About what?"

"That dress doesn't do you justice and I was exactly right about what does." he answers. I chuckle at his words.

"You know what I was also right about?"

"No, what's that, Prince?" I ask teasingly.

"You let me show you exactly what did do you justice, princess."

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koimethehorizon · 7 months

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Adventure Time and Fionna and Cake Theory: The Victimhood of Simon + How the Series Might End

Prerequisite Watching for this Theory:

Adventure Time: Temple of Mars, Betty, Come Along With Me, Broke His Crown, I Remember You, Holly Jolly Secrets Part II

Gonna start this loaded theory with a bit of a hot take. I’ve never liked how Simon and Betty’s stories concluded in Come Along With Me.

For Simon, I’ve always had trouble considering Simon and the Ice King as the same person. Holly Jolly Secrets and I Remember You, the pinnacle of depicting the dichotomy of the two characters is built on us seeing Simon as suffering irreversible memory loss and how his loved ones can grow to accept that. The context is most apt when viewed as a metaphor for dementia, Alzheimer’s, or simply old age.

The scenes in which Ice King reacts so superfluously to characters desperately wishing for his old self to return are striking because of the cruel finality of his condition. Alternatively, the ones in which his loved ones hang around with him despite his condition are sweet in their own right.

One of my favorite Ice King scenes is in Broke His Crown where Marceline invites her girlfriend to meet her surrogate father.

Bubblegum: What's this?

Ice King: It's a present, to bribe you for coming over!

Marceline: You don't have to bribe us silly, we're here because we WANT to hang out with you.

Ice King: No one has ever said that to me before.

*snatches present*

Ice King: You didn't say no takebacks.

There was a real poignancy to depicting an old man with memory-loss slowly having people come to accept him and realize that he’s still a swell guy to hang around. It may be depressing to see this good person who was once so unconditionally caring into a buffoon who could forget your name so easily and turn on you in the flip of a coin.

But even he deserved love from others. And in time, as a result of that love, he did improve.

Which is why, even in Fionna and Cake, I find myself still disturbed seeing Simon in his normal state and Ice King completely erased from Ooo. It kills me that Betty and in extension, the show itself could not accept Ice King as he was and felt that his best course was to undo it all.

All of his experiences for 1000+ years all of a sudden no longer matter, and the acceptance of his peers no longer mattered as well. He's just back to who he used to be in a world where everything he's known is gone.

Happily ever after

Even worse, however, is remembering the wish that allowed Simon to be cured. The person who sacrificed her individuality to get that good person back, because she couldn’t accept reality as it was.

And I’m going to put a second hot take. A spicy one. Simon needs to take the fault in Betty's fate and Fionna and Cake (the show not the characters) seems aware of this.

Throughout Adventure Time, Simon Petrikov was never developed as a character. As far as the audience and the characters within Adventure Time knew, the only traits about Simon that mattered were: that he was intelligent, he was a kind man, and he loved Betty.

This wouldn’t really be a compelling character on its own, but when juxtaposed with the Ice King it’s a tragedy that he lost these traits. The compelling part of Simon was his victimhood to the ice crown and not really him as a person.

It’s why Obsidian’s version of Simon feels somewhat empty, he’s back to his intelligent, kind self but there’s no real hints to how he’s mentally adjusting other than that brief glimpse in Ice King’s robes again.

And he looks really weird in this special too. Color me surprised when Simon Petrikov reads out the problems I've had for years about his ending while also making Simon into his own person. In many ways it just completely redos what we see of him in Obsidian.

He's still a kind man but even he can't handle being so maladjusted to a world so beyond his time. He's still intelligent but his passions aren't reciprocated, and that seems to have always been the case even in the past. Rather than a guy who doesn't take shit from guys like Marceline's ex or a first responder to his daughter's problems, he's a normal guy unable to handle the threats of Ooo's world even after 12 years of living in it. Rather than singing to large communities in bliss, he's a lonely alcoholic who can't even relate to his fellow humans anymore. He loves his adopted daughter but there are even some days he can't muster the courage to be honest with her. And most importantly, he doesn't seem to know how to live beyond his curse or his loneliness.

His mutual obsession with Betty is the only character trait of his that's ever had some distinct flaw and with this new show, the writers must have finally found a way to tackle the subject further. Betty is ultimately a greater victim than Simon. She ends up in a far worse fate than Simon has ever been in. Perhaps more disturbingly, she willingly chose to strip herself of her individuality.

Fionna and Cake brings a contradiction to light about Simon and Betty’s seemingly perfect relationship. Simon and Betty's love is real and they do make each other happy. But there does exist a co-dependency that has worsened throughout the series as a result of their insecurity of letting a bad memory conclude their relationship. Betty's patterns are pretty clear throughout her tenure as Magic Woman but not too much with Simon. Not until now.

In Jerry, Simon stops Betty from pursuing her dreams because he didn’t want her goodbye to be his last memory with her.

In Betty, Simon rewrites history and inadvertently summons her to Ooo because he didn’t want Betty’s look of contempt to be his last memory of her.

And through all of Fionna and Cake, Simon has turned into a suicidal man willing to resummon GOLBetty regardless of the reasons she can’t see him again. All because he didn’t want her sacrifice to be his last memory of her. Despite the fact that Betty’s final wish was to keep Simon safe.

There's also this uneven power dynamic between the two. Simon was far more accomplished as a professor with PhDs even if no one took him seriously. Betty was just a student offering some help, knowing she wouldn't take any credit for helping.

I’ll preface that Betty is a consenting adult in the relationship and made many self-determined rash choices that Simon would never approve of with full context. We’ve enough scenes to show that Simon actively refuses Betty’s help if it means endangering her.

However, Simon’s perception of Betty and his own inadequacy did influence her personality for the worse. Fionna questions Simon on two occasions about how strange it was for “someone she just met to drop everything to go with you”. Even within the flashbacks Betty verbally describes her internal conflict between her individuality vs. her infatuation with Simon and the guy never picks up on it.

Whether he’s aware of it or not, Simon always ends up becoming the center of attention during Betty’s greatest life-changing events because he’s always suffering in some way. And sadly in-character, Betty always prioritizes him first because of how sorry she feels for him.

Simon: Just hold my hand to your face, this will be my… last sensation.

Betty: Don’t be a wimp, Simon!

I don’t want to be too hard on Simon, his suffering is cosmologically depressing. An undeniable tragedy that no one deserves to be alone on. It would be unfair to say he’s being dramatic about something most if not any human would ever go through. He’s not a leech for desiring help, especially from his significant other.

But I do think it’s important to point out that he does have a major flaw in not reflecting on the consequences of Betty’s choices.

Fionna: Damn, that’s romantic. So, you got on the bus with her?

Simon: Yup. Uh what? No. No. Why would I-

This is the reason this post exists. This is the show explicitly telling us that Simon has never really thought about what Betty lost because he thinks his love was greater than the passion Betty once had.

Let's go back to Betty once again for what is honestly the most justifiable takedown you could make of Simon's character prior to the miniseries.

As stated earlier, Simon opens a portal to ask for Betty's forgiveness with a few seconds on the clock. And in that time, he essentially just unloads a giant drama bomb, trauma dump of his suffering leading Betty to ask what she can even do without him. And if the plan went as it was, Simon would've just left her a hundred questions that she'd never have answered for the rest of her life.

Simon: Just know that I love you and I forgive you for leaving me. Author's Note: I dunno, isn't there something a bit off about how he worded this?

Now Simon didn't ask for Betty to jump into the portal, but he certainly was asking for it subconsciously. How else would he have expected a person who loves him dearly to act after this?

Taking any measures necessary and finding a way back together obviously. That's what he's doing too!

And reiterating again, this is the reason why Betty goes on her ego-suicidal quest. This is Simon's greatest mistake, his greatest moral failing as a person and he doesn't seem aware of this.

He’s not wrong that Betty lived happily with him. In spite of losing her dreams, Betty and Simon did love each other unconditionally. But he’s missing the bigger picture about how he could’ve been self-centered in deciding Betty’s fate for himself.

And maybe to stretch somewhat, I think even the quest to become Ice King again is somewhat motivated by his inability to live as anything more than a victim. Some of it is because the citizens of Ooo were being a bit inconsiderate about how much they liked Ice King yes, but Simon should be perfectly aware that Marceline, Betty, and now Fionna would be extremely concerned about him for doing this. Yet, he doesn’t really consider their feelings too much on the matter. He’s too used to the suffering.

Please have one scene with Marceline, I'd be sad if we don't get to see at least one.

This leads me to how I believe Fionna and Cake may rewrite Simon’s ending.

The key is in the episode Temple of Mars.

Upon rewatching the episode, I’m convinced that the Adventure Time cast had a greater plan with the Betty and Simon arc that just never came to be due to production constraints. A lot of Betty’s history and the deconstruction of her relationship with Simon in Jerry are surprisingly details that have already been told.

I thought it was an animation error that Betty’s glasses were different in Jerry but it turns out the continuity director is just that good.

The trip in six months, Simon stopping her, and the realization that Simon superseded her identity. Seeking independence from Simon is the lesson that Normal Man was trying failed to teach her.

Betty: I’ve spent so much time dedicated on Simon that I’m not even sure if there’s any “me” left anymore.

But the most telling detail is how Betty passes Normal Man’s test.

Finn: Even if you are a lost cause, she is not!

Betty: No, Finn’s right. You’ll thank me for this later past Betty.

In an alternate pocket reality, she changes her trip to the day before, preventing Simon from stopping her. And I think Simon will have to change fate once again to do the same.

If Simon comes to realize that he was the one who set Betty to her terrible fate, that all this time his rose-colored lens of their relationship had been detrimental then he could give her identity back. But it can’t be as simple as changing the moment Betty turns into GOLB or Magic Woman or even bringing her through the portal in Betty.

He needs to let Betty go on the bus. Alone.

It’s the only way for Betty to have her life back. If not for his Betty, maybe at least to save one in the multiverse doomed to the same fate.

They both need to cherish their time on the Enchiridion trip back when it wasn’t too late for Betty to go on the trip. Back when they were both equals and not tied to Simon’s needs.

Jerry is absolutely setting up something big with Simon and Betty’s relationship for next week and now that we’re going to the GOLB dimension, we’ll see how he remembers these moments again.

Personally, as someone who has been skeptical about Simon's peace for years, Fionna and Cake's second episode was like a sigh of relief. Simon hasn't found his ending yet, and my hope is that this epilogue will help me see the man happy without having to relive Betty's sacrifice for the rest of his life. Just like the rest of Adventure Time, it'll have to end with him cherishing the time he had with Betty regardless of the inevitability of losing that relationship.

PS. Isn’t quite strange that at one point in time, Simon sought after magic objects that ostracized him from the normal world and now, he lives in a house full of 1980s-1990s objects that ostracized him from the magical world? Maybe he was never really satisfied with where he was in the present.

PSS. I really wanted to write something on Fionna for the Ep 3-6 releases, and I still have the idea, but I couldn’t make it coherent due to how much my brain overthinks everything to the point of cognitive collapse. If there’s enough interest, I’ll go back to write it again.

#fionna and cake #adventure time #simon petrikov #betty grof #fionna and cake spoilers #adventure time spoilers #animation #art #hbo max #fionna campbell #theories #character analysis #discussion #petrigrof #golbetty #simon and betty

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monimccoythings · 1 month

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Human!Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Devotion

These are all part of the same AU, I suppose, or not. But I like to think they are all part of the same AU, sometimes I forget what I write. Now this are just some deranged feelings and thoughts of Alive!Alastor.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.

Tw: obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, mentions of blood, implied murder, manipulation.

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Alastor had never been a sentimental man. Of course he loved his mama, she was a wonderful woman and her death had definitely caused him a great amount of grief.

And then you came along.

Your soft skin, your chubby hands that tried to grasp his larger fingers to no avail, your wide unfocused eyes that darted everywhere, taking notice of everything. How delicate you felt in his arms, you fit perfectly, like you were made to be there.

How easily he could break you, he ponders. One little snap and there would be no more of you. It would be so quick and simple. There was only one little thing.

He adored you.

Your quiet little coos, your incomprehensible babbling that sounded like you were trying to carry an adult conversation with him, the way you squealed with joy whenever one of your favorite songs started playing on the radio. You were delightful, and provided him with more enrichment than any of the bumbling fools he usually associated himself with could provide.

As years passed by, you started to get bigger, your world expanding, your knowledge growing. And with it, came the risk of having you slip away from him.

He had modeled you to be his perfect little angel, his little fawn. His obedient child. He would not allow anyone to take you away from him. He was your guardian, your protector. Some asshole looked at you the wrong way while you two were going on a walk? He was never heard of again. Some low-paid teacher was becoming some sort of role model to you? Ooops! Accidents happen!

He found that his reasoning for protecting you was also a good excuse to indulge in his darkest desires. A way to calm the itch that was always nagging at the back of his head.

Alastor did it for you. He was making the world a safer place for you. No matter how much fun and enjoyment he got out of it. None of those buffoons would ever taint your innocence with their dirty souls. Not even himself.

He would take his secrets to the grave, always hidden behind a wide smile. he would be the good father, the charming radio host, the modelic citizen. The blood in his hands, as delicious as it tasted, would never stain your clothes.

No one would keep you two apart, he would make sure of that. He was all that you could possibly ever need. Your world started and ended with him, as it should be. Let him be the barrier between your purity and the rotten society that lurked outside.

He suffered everytime you were forced to spend time apart of each other. Couldn't you see it? Did you feel it too? Whenever you were in school or he was working, it was complete suffering for him! His fingers drumming impatiently on the surface of the table, counting the seconds until he was back at home with you. Only the mental stimulation that took directing, writing and starrring in his own radio show for which he held great passion and the delightful hunt his side job provided were enough distraction to cope with his sorrow.

When did he become so emotional? He should be feeling embarrassed of himself or at least be very thankful that his mask of sanity wasn't cracking with all those feelings. Instead, he found himself embracing them. He embraced the painful worry about your wellbeing and his influence over you, the obssessive and twisted love he felt, the need for control, to ensure you remained his innocent and good child, and the bitter despair at your absence that sunk into his heart like a knife. Only his little baby could give him such a rush.

He was sure that not even death would be able to take you from his hands. He would personally fight God, the Devil, and anybody who got in his way. Alastor would tear the fabric of reality apart just to get to you.

You would never run away from him. There was no reason to, as he had made you as devoted of him as he was of you. Or at least he hoped so.

Having you leave him would surely break his heart, as it would mean to Alastor that you had chosen to do things the hard way. But maybe, after a very detailed and complex planification on his part and some casualties orchestrated by him, Alastor might be able to convince you to return back home, with a grim reminder about the dangers of the outside world.

For there is no safer place on Earth than in your father's embrace.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #reader #alastor x reader #alastor #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: possessive behavior #tw: controlling behavior #hazbin hotel x reader

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 10 months

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TWST As Lines I've Written/Said

Content Warning: Shitpost, suggestiveness(idk?) & swearing

Author's Note: These are either things I've said, or things that I've written down but haven't used... yet, might use them in the future, might not. Feel free to guess which is which.

Let the shenanigans begin!

Yuu, upon entering TWST

Yuu: “I’m motivated by spite and getting the fuck out of this damned place!”

Crowley: “This damned place just so happens to be my school!”

Yuu: “Yeah? Well, guess what Mr. Mystery Man, I fucking hate it here!”

Crowley: “Rude.”

Typical Ace Behaviour

Yuu: “Behave, my friends are coming over.”

Ace: “Weird. I didn’t know you were capable of having those.”

Yuu: “You know what? You can go out and wait on the fire escape until they leave if you want to act like that.”

Capitalism Isn't Attractive

Deuce: “Do not fall for the pretty man with the fancy clothes!”

Yuu: “Why not? He’s hot as fuck.”

Deuce: “... He’s a capitalist.”

Yuu: “THAT WHORE!”

Pissy Kitty

Leona: “Great, you again.”

Yuu: “I’m thrilled to see you too, asshole.”

Floyd, just Floyd

Floyd: “Why not?”

Yuu: “Unlike you, I don’t want to die!”

Floyd: “Boo, you’re lame.”

Yuu Needs a Raise

Yuu: “My therapist will be thrilled to hear about this revelation.”

Everyone: “What’s a therapist?”

Why Are You Like This?

Vil: “You are a blithering buffoon.”

Yuu: “Takes one to know one.”

Vil: “...Listen here you little piece of -”

Cryptid Hours

Yuu: *walks into room to find Idia sitting in the dark, facing the corner* “Did the voices win today?”

Idia: “Undecided.”

Yuu: “Okay then, let me know if that changes. Since I would like a headstart before you go all *insert demon noises* on me.”

After Any Overblot

Yuu: "I feel like a baked potato." *passes out*

The Adventures of Malleus

Malleus: “Tell me, Child of Man; do humans typically court through the acquiring and displaying of fish?”

Yuu: “Why?”

Malleus: *has been secretly using your phone for research and found himself on Tinder* “Just curious is all.”

Yuu: “... No, it’s not typical.”

Malleus: “Alright then, noted.”

Dear Professor Vargas, I regret to inform you that your attempts to woo a potential mate through your acquiring of fish may not be successful. And does the "DILF" shorts mean, "Darling, I Love Fish?" ... Asking for a friend. Sincerely, Malleus Draconia

Octopus Eyesight

Yuu: “Do you have astigmatism?”

Azul: “Do I have what?”

Yuu: “Astigmatism, like when you look at lights at night do you see lines? Since you have weird ass pupils.”

Azul: “...wait, that isn’t normal?”

Should I Be Nervous?

Yuu: “Have you ever been overcome with the lust for broccoli?”

Trey: ". . ."

Yuu: *squints, thinking* “Break glass in case of sudden lust for broccoli...”

Trey: "Should I leave?"

A Question to Ponder

Yuu: “Why do fictional men slap so hard? Like damn.”

Riddle: “Because they are not real and do not come with any of the negative consequences that often come with real men, also you can better idealize them… And anime, ‘Makes you go brrrrr,’ as you put it.”

College Life

Rollo: “I am running off 3 hours of sleep and a single croissant, do not test me.”

Baby Talk

Rook: “Ah, bonjour chatton!" *proceeds to babytalk to the cat in French*

Yuu's Type

Yuu: “I have 4 types; wet cat, malewife, girlboss, and whore." tag yourself

Crewel: "... You need to focus on your grades, not on some mutts."

What Do You Have?

Jamil: "What's that?"

Kalim: *hiding a cat that he stole from outside* "Uhhh, my love for you?"

Jamil: *annoyed* "Put it back outside, Kalim."

Kalim: *puts the cat in his face* "BUT LOOK AT THEM!! THEY BABEY!!!!"

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forbidden-sunlight · 11 months

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yandere!aphrodite with muichiro!fem!reader headcanons

Warning(s): aged up!reader [late twenties], anime spoilers, canon divergence from manga, references to mythology, obsessive behavior, violence, strong language, sexual references, established relationship, slight nsfw content.

MINORS DNI!

The intention of this story is for entertainment purposes only. The behavior exhibited here is inappropriate and unhealthy, hence it should not be encouraged. There are also triggers, so please take caution. You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Collab work with @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @enryegotrip for providing feedback in the early drafting phase!

With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the chaos that will unfold :)

You met Aphrodite through work.

As a Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps, your main objective is to eliminate the nocturnal beings before they could set a single inch inside Valhalla and devour innocent humans. Thanks to the human named Nostradamus, they could slither their way through the Bifrost’s fractured ley lines rather than just taking a gamble to walk through the swirling miasma that lied beyond the stone double doors and come out on the other side still in one piece. Including information gathering and training soldiers in the organization, there was an occasional bodyguard job.

That was the night you had crossed paths with the Greek goddess of beauty; the function had been a banquet hosted in the palace of a floating island, belonging to a god whose name you couldn’t recall except he was known for firing a silver bow and arrow from a chariot in the sky. But that really wasn’t important. Your job had been to keep an eye out for troublemakers and give them the ol’ greet and toss when they were causing too much of a disturbance.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Aphrodite seem to be talking about things of great interest with Lady Persephone; they were too enraptured in the conversation to notice anything happening outside of their little circle of interest, including the incubus was shamelessly ogling the women of the Greek pantheon.

And of course this buffoon would try to sneak behind your lady’s friend to grab her ass. You sighed in mild annoyance in having to intervene in such a lovely atmosphere, stepping away from your position behind a column.

You quickly glided across the crowded floor, pushing past through the guests and getting behind the incubus. You grabbed one arm and twisted it behind his back, then the other one before starting to pull him away from the goddesses. “What the fuck?!” He snarled, wiggling in your grasp. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I beg to differ,” You said. “Lewd misconduct in a gathering that is hosted in a god’s temple is strictly forbidden. Especially if the perpetrator is someone who has not been invited to said gathering. Now, stop being so stubborn and come along quietly -” You were cut off in mid-sentence when you felt something warm and sticky land on your cheek.

You blinked owlishly, unimpressed at the incubus’ false bravado and the stupid sneer on his face. Really? This asshole just spat on you? Fine, two can play this game.

You slammed your knee into the pervert’s solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him long enough to secure your grip on him, earning surprised gasps from the guests. You looked up and saw Lady Persephone and Lady Aphrodite staring at you with wide, doe-like eyes. You bowed your head to the lord’s wife.

“Forgive me for bothering you and your…acquaintance, Lady Persephone. Please enjoy the rest of the night.” Having properly given your apologies to them, you proceeded to drag the piece of shit across the floor, walking in the back of the temple meant for security and the kitchen staff to slip through without being noticed.

Himejima met you halfway and took the squirming incubus out of your hands, promising to deal with him. In the meantime, it was time for shift rotation; you’d be moving towards the outer perimeter of the island with two other Demon Slayers.

Tanjiro greeted you inside, asking if you were okay with a worried look in his dark red eyes. Smiling at your old friend, you politely declined and reminded him to get a snack or drink water. This banquet is just getting started, it wouldn’t do him any good to keep working on an empty stomach.

He nodded enthusiastically, racing back inside to the kitchens and shouting that he’d bring back something for you too. Your heart twinged at his words. Even after all of these years…how could he have forgiven you for surviving the war against Muzan when it should have been him and Nezuko? That the two of you, including Giyuu and Sanaemi, stayed with Master Urokodaki until it was time to go your separate ways? How the guilt gnawed away at you for years, knowing Nezuko would be all alone in her village despite keeping regular contact with you through letters and visits? How can he not hate you?

You shook your head. No…there was no point in dwelling on the past right now. You need to focus on the job. After you scrubbed off the area where the incubus’ saliva had landed, you washed your hands and left the restroom to join the others.

In retrospect, you truly thought that was the last time you would ever meet the Greek pantheon’s goddess of love and beauty….not the beginning.

Persephone was bragging about her new bodyguard with the pride of a mother fawning over her child for the third time this evening.

Aphrodite knew the queen of the underworld well enough that she utterly despised being treated like a child or an asset that is to be protected from even the smallest of threats. That was why it had been difficult for Hades to find someone qualified and met his wife’s expectations to protect his beloved. Personally, Aphrodite found the overprotective part of Hades to be…romantic. Dazzling even, the idea that such a stoic and cold-hearted man melted in front of the only woman he loves.

Admittedly, Aphrodite was curious about this strong and useful mortal soul entrusted to protect her on-off friend, especially their appearance. Did they possess a rugged appearance, or dressed neatly for the job? Were they big or small? Experienced in bed or a virgin? These questions tossed around her mind right until she heard yelling right behind her. That was when she saw the incubus and a young lady dressed in black, the latter holding him down even though she was half of his size. She gasped in disgust when he spat at the mortal, and then felt her heart flutter when she retaliated with a swift kick to the stomach. Blank [Eye Color] orbs blinked owlishly at them before she murmured an apology, wishing them a good-night before dragging the incubus across the floor without another care in the world.

Aphrodite gawked in shock, turning her attention back to the equally shell-shocked Persephone. “Is…Is that your bodyguard?” The brown-haired goddess merely nodded, her golden eyes watching the pair disappear into the crowd.

“Indeed…but how could she have sensed that rascal before we did?” It was true. As members of the Oympian pantheon, they were blessed with powers far beyond the others, and not just immortality and incredible strength. Persephone frowned. “Perhaps I underestimated the power of a Hashira?”

“A Hashira?” Aphrodite repeated. “You mean to tell me that Hades assigned the strongest members of the Demon Slayer Corps as your bodyguard and you didn’t mention any of this to me sooner?”

Persephone shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t think it was that important to you, in fairness. And they are supposed to be a secret, not public knowledge to spread across Valhalla.” She took a sip of her wine. “Fret not, if that little pissant is in her hands, she’ll deal with him promptly.”

Aphrodite slowly nodded, taking another gulp of wine before her mind wandered back to the stoic mortal who possessed such a mesmerizing beauty she had not seen since Helen of Troy had been alive.

In contrast to the innocence of the Argos queen, the Hashira’s eyes did not sparkle with neither joy nor love; nothing reflected in her gaze except exhaustion and irritation when she dealt with the incubus. Why does she seem so tired when she is a trusted soldier under the command of Hades?

That had been the initial spark of curiosity which struck Aphrodite’s mind, even after the banquet. By interacting with Persephone, she was able to persuade her dear friend to come out for an outing in Valhalla’s most popular shopping district with her precious bodyguard in tow. It is through this trip that the goddess of beauty turned her gaze upon the Hashira, and felt her heart pounding in her chest once more.

Yes…those eyes are mesmerizing. But other secrets could she be hiding? One question led to another, and then another until Aphrodite could not stop herself from sinking into the madness of morbid fascination.

Why does she wear only the standard Demon Slayer uniform? What are her favorite foods? Her hobbies when she isn’t protecting the Bifrost alongside her comrades?

Aphrodite began using her doves to spy and receive daily reports on the Hashira whenever she went in Valhalla, relishing in what information they’ve brought back to the temple; they were almost seen by the overprotective and vain crow that is always by the mortal’s side, however, so her precious familiars needed to be a bit more discreet with their actions. Of course, Aphrodite would not be so cruel nor stupid as to send the doves to the gates of Helheim.

That would draw too much attention, and she did not want to reveal herself to the lovely [First Name] just yet.

Soon, she thought with a wistful sigh, lounging in the inner sanctum of her temple surrounded by the stone men Hephaestus created for her as a wedding gift. Soon, we shall be together my love, and nothing will stand in the way of our happiness.

By pursuing the Mist Hashira, she neglected her longtime lover Adonis. He grew jealous when he heard that another mortal slithered their way into his goddess’ heart, and when he confronted Aphrodite about the rumors, an argument ensued. Adonis left the temple that same evening while she fumed quietly, alone in her twisted thoughts.

Oh…she wanted to hold [First Name] in her arms. But she needed to be patient for just a little longer. She blinked, baby blue eyes narrowing with a contemplative frown. Now that she thought about it, it has been a while since she called upon Ares to her bedchambers.

Perhaps until the Demon Slayer is officially hers…she should play around with the war god to satisfy her needs. Yes. That's a perfect plan. Oh, she is so beautiful and smart, no one can tear their gaze away from her when she enters the room.

Moments later, however, she crushed her cell phone in half. Four times. She called him four times and not once did Ares pick up. HOW DARE HE IGNORE THE BELOVED GODDESS OF ALL THE PANTHEONS IN VALHALLA?!? WHAT COULD BE MORE IMPORTANT THAN HER WELL-BEING?!

As the human author William Congreve had penned in his book The Mourning Bride, “Heaven has no rage like love turned to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned.”

It wasn’t hard for the Greek goddess to find him…but why in the world would he come to a floating island that belonged to Apollo, let alone the exclusive hot springs that the sun god owns and ran as a business for only the wealthiest and most beautiful clients? Why would that hulking brute disappear all of a sudden as soon as he walked through the forested area…oh! Aphrodite gasped.

There.

Standing at the marbled archway leading to the hot springs was her Hashira, gazing up at the clouds overhead without a care in the world, sword sheathed at the side and a teal-colored cloth strapped to her back. It seemed to bulge from where the goddess hid behind a stone pillar…is that how Demon Slayers carried their belongings? Wrapping them up in a cloth and tying it securely to their body? Hm, perhaps a purse would make a good gift….but that isn’t important at this moment!

She wanted to see the Mist Hashira’s body. Oh, there is no doubt in her mind that it was a work of art beneath those shabby clothes! Aphrodite giggled, her voluptuous body wiggling in excitement. She watched as [First Name] blinked owlishly, then looked down at…her neck? There was a snake coiled around her neck!

Aphrodite narrowed her gaze upon the creature, fury pumping through her veins as [First Name] smiled affectionately at it, pressing a soft kiss on the top of its head before turning around to walk inside the facility. Yes…there is no mistaking the pattern on the snake’s back. That filthy abomination was Ares.

The Greek gods had the ability to transform into the animals that were sacred to them, though Zeus could become almost anything he wanted to be if it meant conquering another woman that his lustful heart desired. In Ares’ case, the vulture, the dog, and the snake were sacred animals enshrined in his temple. He preferred to be the latter when he wanted to pout or hide from others so that his reputation as a fearsome, powerful god wasn’t besmirched.

He changed into a snake more than a handful of times when they broke up. But why was he with the Mist Hashira? Did he have some private Demon Slayer business with her that needed to be discussed where no one would dare to think they’d converse? Aphrodite wasn’t sure yet she was determined to find out.

So, she took a page out of the war god’s book and transformed into a beautiful white dove, flying over to the building where an open window allowed her to enter the hot springs with no one none the wiser.

It did not take the goddess very long to find the object of her affections standing in front of the hot springs, and looking quite annoyed, at least from her hiding behind a marbled column and still in her animal form.

“Ares, are you sure there isn’t another solution? I know Apollo said these waters will help accelerate the healing process….but this is your brother we’re talking about. A preening peacock who thinks only with his dick and bragged about how he had multiple relations in this…place.” [First Name] asked, tilting her head to look down at the snake. Ares hissed, forked tongue poking out as his tiny head bobbed up and down.

[First Name] sighed, then released a small hiss of her own as her small frame hunched over ever so slightly.

Ares’ small form began quivering, no doubt panicking or trying to ask in snake language if the Mist Hashira was all right. Aphrodite watched worriedly as her love slowly walked inside, her soft voice bouncing off the walls as she spoke to the war god.

“I’m…okay. I guess my injuries were worse than I thought even with Shinobu’s treatment. There’s only so much wisteria solution that the body can handle at a time to flush the demon’s poison out. I think…I might have to rely on you a bit longer. I’m sorry.”

As soon as she sat down on a large obsidian rock and began taking off her sandals, Ares reverted back to his true form, kneeling by her side. He helped finish removing them before carrying her over to the smallest spring in the room where light filtered in from a nearby window, placing her on another heated rock. Aphrodite followed quietly, becoming herself again as well and ducking behind another pillar that allowed her to see them without the sun’s rays getting in her eyes.

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth as she watched her old lover remove the Hashira’s uniform. The goddess’ fantasy of seeing her darling’s lovely, unblemished skin shattered upon seeing bluish-purple bruises and scabs, even a few open wounds. Who would do this to [First Name]?

Furthermore, why is it that Ares can touch her body and not get kicked below the belt? And yet…seeing her so shy around him, arms trying to conceal her chest from his eyes as he carefully removed her lower garments, left completely bare…the expression was so arousing. Aphrodite wanted to see more.

Ares slowly removed the bandages that were wrapped around her body in various places, carefully inspecting the wounds before he nodded. “Okay, let’s get your hair washed first.” He then leaned down, untying the clothed satchel and pulling out a circular shaped container. Aphrodite watched with a gaping mouth as he doted on her so gently, lathering up [Hair Color] tresses until there were soapy suds and used a cloth to wash her body too.

When has he ever been this loving towards someone else besides the goddess of love? Sure, he’s had many lovers over the years…but he didn’t stare at them as if they hung the moon or stars in the sky as he gazed at the Mist Hashira. And that pissed Aphrodite off. A lot.

Once her hair and body were rinsed off, Ares kneeled down and carefully cradled [First Name] in his arms by the edge of the spring, maneuvering her so that she could slip into the water without too much trouble.

He laughed slightly as a long, dragged out sigh left the Hashira’s lips before he removed his armor and tunic. He cleaned himself up as well, washing his hair and body, before joining her in the water as well.

Aphrodite considered showing up ‘coincidentally’ crashing the relaxing moment but she stayed back, choosing to watch them instead. She wanted…no, she needed to know what was going on between these two. Ares helping [First Name] undress and wash herself seemed innocent enough as she was heavily injured….she supposed she could forgive him if he was truly helping her darling out of courtesy for a fellow warrior.

A comfortable silence fell between them. Time seemed to stand still before the Grecian deity said it would be best to get out now lest there is the risk of overheating. [First Name] looked up at him with a pout, but relented with a nod.

Ares got out first. He kneeled down as his wet, steaming arms glistened in the sun, carefully lifting the Hashira out of the water. Perfectly innocent…until [First Name] released a soft squeak, face flushed when he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the nape of her neck, coiling an arm around her waist to pull her towards him, but being gentle so that he did not irritate the wounds. He then began to nibble her neck, mouth opening and moving downwards as he began to suckle the tender flesh.

[First Name] pressed her thighs together, raising a hand to stifle the noises she was making but Ares would not allow such a small mercy to happen. Instead, he stepped backwards until he sat on the larger heated rock, pulling her into his lap and smiling as she gasped out his name, [Eye Color] orbs blown wide with embarrassment and excitement.

His calloused fingers caressed the bumps of her spine, maneuvering around the bruises that were still healing until his large hand stopped right above her rear. Ares used his other palm to tilt the Hashira’s face upwards, tucking a stray strand of wet hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek, sealing their mouths together in a kiss.

Aphrodite’s nails broke against the pillar as her hand trailed downwards. This single moment defined the relationship between her darling and that bastard Ares: lovers, just as she had been his ‘nymph’ all of those years ago, now nothing more than a fleeting memory. Her eyes widened when she heard a mewl of pleasure leave her darling’s mouth as Ares squeezed [First Name]’s rear, alternating between the cheeks, kneading the flesh or lightly spanking it.

The goddess’ body was growing warm with arousal again. Oh, she wanted…no, she needed her to make those noises again, those delicious sounds which grew louder and more wanton through Ares’ touch, [First Name]’s body arching back -

“Ah.”

That was when she heard it…she and Ares. A pained groan from the Hashira, who now quivered in the war god’s arms, the romantic tension between [First Name] and Ares evaporating in an instant. He immediately pulled his hand away. “Are you all right?” He asked.

[First Name] pouted, trying to pull him back down to her height. “I-I’m fine!”

But Ares was not convinced. He pressed his index finger to her lips, staring down at her with a soft smile till he turned away to grab a fluffy towel, wrapping it around her shoulders. “We can continue once you’re all healed. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He kissed her softly, silencing any arguments before she slumped against his frame, sweaty forehead resting against his chest with a pout. He chuckled at her childish attitude, gently stroking the crown of her head. She looked up at him and smiled.

“This trip is certainly one way to celebrate your return from another war, isn’t it?” She said, “I had heard your opponent was someone not to be taken lightly.” Ares grinned, lifting up one of his arms in the air and flexing it.

“Yes, but he was no match for me! He might have had an impressive army, but he lacked a Lady of Fortune to grant him a victory!”

“Ares, you promised not to dedicate your battle to me last time and you did it again!” [First Name] whined, smacking his chest with her palm, cheeks red with embarrassment. “I didn’t do anything to contribute to the war! You were the one who put the time and effort into improving yourself and your men!”

“Yet you were the one who criticized my footwork and didn’t stop swinging that practice sword until you were satisfied with the results.” Ares chimed in, wiggling his brow. “If I had been any lesser god, I would have not continued to come to your residence year after year to spare with you when Heracles wasn’t around, let alone bring gifts nor beg Uncle Hades for a chance to court you on the condition that it must never become public knowledge.”

“Well, you did make the practice arena collapse in on itself when my other students couldn’t.” [First Name] argued. “You proved to me that you weren’t just a clueless musclehead. You adapted to the battles much faster than I had anticipated, you did everything that I taught you. Your victory in that war…that was by your hand and your army, not mine.”

Ares tutted. “I’m afraid we will have to agree to disagree in this argument, my dearest.”

“Hm.”

Silence fell between them for a short time until the war god stood up, placing the Hashira on the rock. Grabbing the satchel, he took out two opal-colored jars, a roll of bandages, and one labeled with the single word ‘cream’, setting them down on the cloth before he began patting her skin dry. Aprhodrite watched in envy as he cleaned and applied medicine to the wounds, being as gentle as possible before wrapping them up.

In all the centuries she’d known him, Ares had always been gentle and kind….yet never to this extent, around the goddess of love and beauty. The one who listened to his victories in war, and had once been his Lady of Fortune. So why should an egotistical, self-centered man who only knew about strategy deserve to be around her Hashira?

Aphrodite would give anything to be loved by [First Name], from the finest jewels and fabrics to experiencing the true joys of the flesh, not what he had done. Mediocre, Ares. She thought with a sneer. Mediocre.

A little while later, once they were both dried off, a nymph came into the room and delivered a box into the Hashira’s hands, Ares grinning like a child who had a secret that no one else knew about. He urged her to open it. She did, and inside was a teal kimono embroidered with a wisteria pattern, a pale yellow obi, and a hairpin.

Aphrodite hated it…and yet when Ares helped [First Name] put it in, she could not deny that her darling looked dazzling in it. The color of the kimono was a perfect match to the teal ends of those lovely [Hair Color] locks.

But if it were up to her…she would be in something….well, perhaps that would be best left to the imagination, shouldn’t it?

Because one way or another, the Mist Hashira will belong to the most beautiful goddess in the universe, and her alone, even if Aphrodite would have to take a page of Zeus’ book to get what she wanted. And she always got what she wanted in the end.

Taglist:

@myrisan-melodies

@praisethesuuun

@justamegafan

@puffy-bangs

@screechingfatdragon

@nunezs-stuff

@zodiacs-web

@seii-fantasy

@friedchickenlover01

@thatstrangesheep

@themoonisrising

@onecantsimply

@mortemorii

@diamondzoey

@dance-till-the-death

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #snv x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #yandere #ror x reader #ns.fw #record of ragnarok x reader #yandere aphrodite #snv aphrodite #ror aphrodite #snv ares #ror ares #ror x you #muichiro!reader

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thegoldencontracts · 7 days

Text

On The House!

Summary: Azul's always seemed to break his "no free lunch" rule with you. A free lunch here, tutoring there, and whatnot. But it's only after you two start dating that you realize why.

Notes: Jai if you see this TYYYY YOU ARE A GENIUSS RAGGHHH, also there's one brief innuendo of "punishment" by the reader bc I feel like teenagers would absolutely make innuendos - source: me and my friends, and also bc the reader's gotta annoy Azul somehow

Everyone knew that Azul Ashengrotto was notoriously stingy. He was a firm believer that if you wanted to cross a bridge, you had to pay the toll. He never gave anything for free.

Except with you. Azul tutored you quite a few times, and he'd even get you snacks while he was at it. Why? Was he trying to scam you?

As you chewed on a piece of the candy he'd given you, you couldn't help but ask.

"Hey, Azul," you said. "Can I ask why you're giving me all this free stuff?"

Azul's eyes widened a bit.

"It's of irrelevance," he said.

Weird. He didn't usually get defensive this quickly. Maybe he was just upset because you'd caught him trying to scam you?

"Is this some weird plan to sucker me into a contract?" You asked, eyes narrowed. "Because I'm not signing anything."

Azul seemed to get irritated at that, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, no, I assure you, that isn't the case," he said.

Why was he getting defensive like this? That wasn't usually how he reacted to your prodding. There was probably something you didn't know.

Scratch that, there was definitely something you didn't know.

Whatever. You'd just have to find out later, it seemed.

"Fine, fine," you said. "But-"

Azul rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe that you got to see him so openly annoyed.

"I'm watching, Azul. You'd better not scan me, or else I'll punish you, okay?"

Azul groaned.

"What sort of phrasing is that?" He asked. "You aren't powerful enough to enforce anything upon me either way!"

"But it's funny!"

"Hmph, cretin."

And yet, you couldn't help but wonder, if Azul really thought you were a cretin, why did he give you so much free stuff?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time passed, and things between you and Azul changed. You'd even begin dating. He still kept giving you free stuff though.

Why? How was it that he could call you an absolute cretin and then shove a bowl of soup cooked by him your way in the same breath?

But then, one day, you realized why he did it.

It was to show his affection.

In hindsight, it should've been obvious. Everyone had some form of expressing their care for others, right? And this was Azul's. It only made sense.

You were going to ask him about it. Mostly because his reaction would be fun.

"Hey, remember that time I asked you why you gave me free stuff so much?" You said one day while the two of you were cuddled together in his bed.

Azul just silently pulled back the hand you'd used for emphasis back to his head, shooting you a bleary glare.

"Mm," he said in what was probably an affirmative. You could never be too sure though. Not with a tired Azul. For all you knew, he could just be expressing his annoyance with the fact that you weren't giving him enough headpats.

"Well, I think you were always doing it to show your looooove."

That seemed to wake Azul up.

Hastily, he swatted away your hand - though you could tell he wanted it back right after, turning away from you with a huff.

"That's utterly preposterous!" He said, though his cheeks were flushed. "I certainly wasn't pining after you like some buffoon!"

He absolutely was. He showed you he loved you since way back then, while all his free tutoring sessions and carefully prepared meals.

"Are you embarrassed about it, Azul?" You said. "Don't me. I think it's cute, you know."

Azul scowled.

"You're a mongrel," he said, before standing up with a sigh. "I'll make you some food, perhaps the added energy will help restore your ordinary intellect."

That actually sounded like Azul was calling you smart and stupid at the same time. Bravo, Azul. Impressive.

Wait. He was doing it again!

"And you're making this because you looove me, right?" You said, batting your eyelashes.

"Think whatever you wish," he said. "But we ought to get back to bed once you finish your food."

He just wanted to cuddle, didn't he?

"Anything for you."

And as Azul asked you what you wanted for dinner, you could tell that he'd do anything for you as well.

#azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #twst #twst azul #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x you #azul x you #twst fanfic #fluff #azul fluff #fanfiction

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cinnbar-bun · 2 months

Text

Good Fortune

Pairing: Dio Brando x GN!Reader

Summary: Dio is told he is lucky, often. He can't see how, considering how awful his life has been. But after meeting you, the child of George Joestar's old business partner and Jonathan's friend, perhaps his luck has turned for the better.

Even if he refuses to engage with such notions.

Rating: SFW but it's painful

Word Count: ~4.5k

AO3 Link: Here

Notes: Childhood-friends-to-lovers, Phantom Blood!Dio, babes this just angst, talks of death and dying, death, religious discussion, religious imagery, Dio unfortunately falling in love, Reader is MENA! but it's easy to ignore, foreshadowing for parts 3 and 6 (no spoilers though), yes I made this to be self indulgent because I wanted to torture Dio because omg what if he went to Cairo specifically because his partner mentioned it?

Dio stares in front of the full-length mirror in his room, adjusting his suit and tie. George explained he was having an old friend over tonight for supper, making a brief comment about how said friend was also bringing his child over. Dio noticed Jonathan’s eyes widen and the smile adorning his face- obviously, they were acquainted from before he ever arrived to the mansion.

He could only sneer as he thought of how obnoxious this ‘friend’ could possibly be. He couldn’t just antagonize them or Jonathan like he normally did, not when George would be around and watching. The thought of having to sit all night with that buffoon and a friend of his made him want to gag.

Alas, one must do what they have to do to obtain wealth and power. If he wanted the Joestar fortune, he had to play the game correctly. Assuring he was in good standing with George and this guest would only serve him well in the future.

And who knows, Dio chuckles to himself, maybe this ‘friend’ of Jonathan’s would slowly grow to hate the boy as well. He brushes his blond hair back, fixing it up properly. A loose strand makes him use his hand to push it back, and he smirks as he sees the three little birthmarks on his ear. He fixes his cufflinks and proceeds to walk out of the room, annoyed at having to put on airs, yet interested to see what will become of this dinner.

The minute he steps down the stairs, there is a knock at the door. Dio curiously looks from the staircase at the large front doors that George himself approaches. The first thing Dio can make out is a large man, around the same age as George- perhaps a few years older if the few strands of gray hair are anything to go off of. Before he can take a closer look, Jonathan races down the stairs, accidentally brushing shoulders with Dio.

“You damn-,” Dio snarls, but quickly shuts his mouth in case of anyone nearby. Jonathan didn’t seem to notice, instead jumping off the last few steps and running towards the guests. Jonathan yells out a name Dio doesn’t recognize, but the energetic boy is quickly put in his place with George’s hand on his shoulder.

“Jonathan! That is not how we greet our guests!” George scolds his son. Jonathan’s shoulder slink apologetically, like a beaten down puppy.

Dio despises that look more than anything. He makes an expression of disgust before he hears some chuckling.

“Oh, it’s alright, George, let the boy be! He’s young!” A jovial voice exclaims, and George sighs.

“I’m aware, my friend. I just can’t help but worry about what kind of man he will grow up to be,” George muses, tugging on Jonathan’s ears. Dio’s ears pick up that despite the negative words, George isn’t angry at Jonathan. Jonathan himself isn’t too offended either.

Hmph. Disgusting.

Dio figures that he’s seen enough and makes his appearance in front of the guests. The man is clearly foreign and has some semitic features that Dio hardly has ever seen in Britain. He’s finely dressed, wearing a fancy English suit and plenty of gold accessories. Dio finds himself fascinated by the many rings on the man’s fingers.

“My, my, and who could this be?” The man questions, a friendly smile on his face. Dio is frankly grossed out by the overly familiar tone the man takes, but bites his tongue back.

“This is my adopted son, Dio Brando,” George proudly states. The man extends his hand to Dio and shakes it with a firm grip.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brando,” he introduces himself then pats his child on their shoulder. “This is (Y/n), my only child. I assume you’re all the same age, so I think you’ll get along splendidly.”

Dio glances at you briefly as you bow your head politely to him. “It’s very nice to meet you, Dio.”

You look quite similar to your father, albeit, younger and more rounded, with the same features Dio finds rare on you. Your clothes are just as intricate as your father’s, clearly very expensive, making Dio curious about just how rich you and your father are.

Dio bows his head back to you. “It’s nice to meet you as well, (Y/n).”

Once the greetings are done, Jonathan goes up to you and excitedly beams at you. “(Y/n), did you bring anything for me this time?”

Dio is almost tempted to smack Jonathan on behalf of George, but you chuckle and nod, seemingly not minding. You glance over to make sure the older men are not looking and open your satchel, taking out a red box. Dio and Jonathan peek at it while you remove the cover. Inside the box are small, pink cubes covered in white sugar.

“Woah… what are these?” Jonathan asks.

“Lokum, oh, ah, ‘Turkish delights’,” you say in English. Jonathan is about to take one when you close the box and shake your head. Jonathan pouts after being denied, probably due to his love of sweets. “After dinner. Otherwise my father might lecture me.”

“Turkish delight, you say?” Dio repeats. “So, I assume you and your father must deal within the Middle East, correct?”

“Yes. He was born there, then moved here to start his business,” you pridefully comment, always happy to share how proud you are of your father’s hard work.

“Interesting…” Dio thinks. He frowns when he thinks of his own drunkard of a father, and the gross feeling that dwells within him bubbles upfront. How nice it must be to be happy for your father. How wonderful it must feel to be proud to share the same DNA as the man who had created you. He can’t point to a single thing he enjoyed about Dario, can’t even count anything nice the man has done on one hand except die.

Yet you look to hold your father in such high regard, perhaps even moreso than Jonathan does to George. Likewise, your father keeps smiling at you and flaunting your accomplishments to George, as if you were the best of the best. As if you were the most wonderful thing to have ever graced this earth.

Dio can’t help but feel disgusted and so, so jealous that you get a father who adores and spoils you like nothing else. You don’t even have a mother, but that doesn’t seem to damper you. Any hope he had of wanting to meet you is squashed by the hatred and rage he feels for your relationship.

----

You write letters often, Dio finds out. Now Dio knows why Jonathan is always so excited to check the mail. Soon after leaving the dinner party George held, Dio started getting letters addressed just to him from you.

Apparently, you were too stupid to understand that Dio wanted nothing to do with you and actively despised you like he did Jonathan. Or maybe you just didn’t care, since you began writing about anything and everything you were thinking of as if you were old acquaintances. Dio once snagged Jonathan’s letter from you to see if the tone was any different, but almost nothing was, except for mentions of a historical places Jonathan would like to possibly visit.

At first, he burned them away, not interested in whatever mindless rabble you had to discuss. He had no interest in history, none in studying, and absolutely none for whatever rich person you had just met on the road. Jonathan writes back plenty, but in order to save face, Dio writes back, only very rarely, pretending as if he actually cared.

It isn’t until his birthday that he sighs and relents, opening up the package you had sent. He rolls his eyes at the well wishes you give him (although he does wonder briefly how you knew his birthday) but finds two wrapped gifts in the box.

In the first one, thinner and longer, is a selection of the Turkish delights you had brought over the first time you met. He actually hadn’t bothered trying it then, mostly due to his disgust with you and the fact Jonathan looked like he was enjoying himself when he took a bite.

He snorts and rolls his eyes, about ready to throw away the sweets when the smell of the powdered sugar and rosewater drifts into his nose. It is… certainly unique, he thinks. Nothing like what he’s ever smelled before. He places the box on his desk again and glares at it, as if the treats were personally ruining his day. He folds his arms and stares at it some more.

He should throw this out. Never look at this and just write a quick ‘thank you’ so you felt appreciated or something. But still… the powdered sugar dusting the outside, the sweet, sweet smell of it- it was far too tempting. He clicked his tongue and picked one up, groaning at the way the sugar dusted his fingers and part of his suit.

“Disgusting,” he mumbles before he takes a large bite of it. The taste is nothing like what he’s ever had before, and he nearly chokes at it. He coughs then swallows, taken aback by the taste. It’s… it’s quite delicious. He’s never tried something so wonderfully sweet, something that overtakes the senses quite like this. Roses make an interesting flavor profile, he muses.

Wait, no, what is he thinking, getting excited over this stupid gift from an annoyance like you? He closes the box of sweets then opens the last box. Inside is a ring, similar to the one your father wore at the dinner party. The ring had a large amber stone, and Dio twirls it in his hands, fascinated with how the light catches the stone.

This must have cost a fortune. He chuckles as he picks up the note to go alongside the ring.

My father and I thought a ring would be a good gift for you. He says that it’s always wise to have something nice on your hand. It can bring you good luck and make you stand out. I hope you like the color- he was going to get you the blue one, but this one reminded me of your eyes. I thought you might appreciate it more.

Happy birthday, Dio.

You sign your name at the bottom and Dio finds himself biting his lip harshly. It’s really frustrating how you always naively try to think of him like this. Who said he wanted your damn sweets? Who said he wanted your rings? Or your good luck? Who said he wanted anything you had?

He shakes his head and gazes at the ring again. He hates himself, so why would you dare get something that is meant to be of him? This body that he despises, how could you covet it in a god damn ring meant for him?

You bother and enrage him like nothing else. He always thought this was because of your friendship with Jonathan, but this just cemented that the hate he felt for you was entirely just because of who you were. Whereas Jonathan was an obstacle he needed to rid of for the Joestar inheritance, you were someone who actively treated him like a damn charity case.

You must have thought you were so clever and kind gifting these things to him, weren’t you?

Fine. If you wanted to be a useful idiot for him, then he would make sure to get the most use out of you. The violent rage he had boiled over into interest and excitement. He grabbed his paper and pen, quickly writing a letter back to you.

This time, however, he made sure to be more expressive than he normally would have. He laughed loudly as he signed the paper in a hurry and sealed it within an envelope. This could be quite enjoyable.

Imagine him- getting rid of Jonathan and using you for his own gain! Not just one- but two means of success and fortune! Oh, you were a delightful idiot through and through, he thought as he threw aside the lid to the dessert and popped in another cube.

----

The years were kind to Dio. Ever since his plan to use you came to fruition, he slowly refined it to working his way up to being able to ask for your hand in marriage. He spent years cleaning up his act, faking his way to the top, even joining the rugby team and a university to study law. He was practically the perfect man- attractive, intelligent, resourceful, strong- why, anyone would be lucky to have him as a son-in-law and husband.

The interest he deemed to show you in his teens made you reciprocate his affections. You began writing longer letters for him than you did to Jonathan. You would stop by and visit, not even for Jonathan, but just for Dio now. You two would have long discussions in the gardens, on the road, and in the library of the Joestar mansion. Your father practically adored Dio as a son, always patting his shoulder and joking with him more casually. He was an admirable prize, one that was practically handing himself on a silver platter for you.

Except, somewhere along the line, like a damn fool, Dio made a mistake in his normally thorough plans. Somewhere, somehow- you managed to make Dio enjoy your presence. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

When he first started trying to get your attention, he often would do so at the expense of Jonathan. He just liked pissing his brother off while he would drag you away as if he had something urgent to say to you privately. He would aggrandize and embellish his stories, making himself seem far more noble and special than Jonathan was. Of course, Jonathan, ignorant as may be at times, wasn’t stupid. He knew right away Dio was up to no good and tried to warn you, subtly take you away, or even insert himself into the times when Dio pulled you aside.

Nothing worked, however. You either didn’t notice or didn’t care, always brushing aside the warnings and believing in Dio wholeheartedly. It was cute- misguided, frankly- but cute, nonetheless. Especially after Dio did his best to mend his relationship with Jonathan, Jonathan found he had no leg to stand on and tried to leave the past behind him, wishing you two only the best.

Good, thought Dio. He was tired of having to play nice with his Jonathan, and now that Jonathan had no chance of stealing you away from him, Dio could enact his plan still. And that’s what it should have stayed.

But fate was far more strange than Dio realized. One day, he would find himself listening to you more. While before, it was just to keep track of your stories to use later, it now became an interesting part of his day. Another day, he would naturally seek out your hand to hold- not as a means to make you swoon and desire him, but just for his own comfort. And on another, god, he couldn’t believe this- he found himself imagining what a ‘home’ could be like for you and him.

You somehow managed to imprint yourself in his brain, filling his head with stupid, ridiculous, and childish thoughts. He found the hushed whispers he spoke in your ear to become less and less false as time went on. He found the way your cheeks would warm up made him grin and not smirk. He found your voice pleasant and the words you’d say become clearer. He found his body recoiling when any other man, especially Jonathan, tried to talk to you.

You ruined him. You ruined everything. How dare you? He could afford plenty of things now, yet he continued to wear that damn amber ring on his finger. You adored his eyes, and for once, he found himself almost agreeing whenever he looked in the mirror before he would take you on a date.

You. Damn. Worm.

You must be the devil. You must be some evil snake charming him and destroying him inside and out. He couldn’t accept the fact that he, Dio Brando, was actually enjoying your presence in his life.

You spoke of the trips you took with your father for business. You loved almost all your destinations, bringing back souvenirs and charming photos for him. But one city always stood out to him.

Cairo.

“Oh, yes, the city is wonderful there,” you mused dreamily. “There are these beautiful pyramids-”

You point at the photos of these pyramids and he’s become interested in these monumental landmarks. Jonathan made a mention of them once, he thinks.

“And what are these pyramids for, exactly? Why would someone just build these with stone in the middle of a desert of all places?” Dio raises a brow. Although he’s impressed, he finds himself questioning the worth of these structures. You chuckle, a sound he’s grown to enjoy.

“The ancient Egyptians lived here, Dio. They built these pyramids and all sorts of buildings for their final resting place,” you smile.

“Tch, how pretentious,” he teases. “You sound far too happy talking about a place of death.”

“Perhaps, but you know, death isn’t so bad.” Now this makes him pause.

“And what do you mean by that?” Dio questions. You shrug.

“Well, for them, they believed that when you died, your heart would be judged and you could go to the Field of Reeds, Aaru.”

“Similar to western dogma,” Dio mumbles. He never had such faith in things like ‘God’ or a ‘heaven’.

If God really existed, he would have helped Dio’s mother. He would’ve made Dario a better father. Would have made Dio feel safe.

But there is no such thing, no such tangible way to prove that God did exist. And it seems these ancient humans were just as foolish as the people of today. They would continue to believe in something that did not exist and did not love them.

“Yes, you could say that,” you nod. “But I think the idea is nice overall. Don’t you think?” “I don’t understand what could be considered ‘nice’ about it,” he frowns.

“I like to think of it as a second chance. Another way to live, having gone through the struggles of your first life. You’d know more and appreciate more.”

You don’t notice the way his face tenses as he grits his teeth. Even if there was a god, in no way shape or form was Dio ever going to be in ‘heaven’. He could push that aside right away. He was the son of Dario, and that certainly already meant he was sentenced to eternal damnation.

“I see,” is all he says. You snap your fingers as you then show a picture of a gorgeous terracotta mansion.

“I almost forgot to show you! We got to stay in this beautiful place. Oh, it was just wonderful inside. I think you’d love it. There was a lovely garden there, too. I wish I could take you there, I’d show you everything Cairo has to offer! And you could finally taste the dates when they’re ripe and the festivals that go on there!”

“I would love nothing more,” he replies, suddenly thinking of how hot Cairo must feel. He wondered how you would smile if the festivals were going on. How lovely the night must be with you in it under the lamps and palm trees of Egypt. “Maybe we can go for our honeymoon?” You lightly smack his shoulders and laugh. “Don’t tease me like that! Otherwise I might make you propose tomorrow!”

“I could have that arranged,” Dio leans forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“Let’s focus on our studies first,” you chuckle. “I really would love to marry, but alas, our fathers have decided to make us wait longer.”

“Alas,” he joins in, the thought of finally being yours and you being his making his heart swell.

Only you could offer Dio this momentary salvation. This brief respite of peace despite the anger and hatred he held in his heart. This was a feeling only reserved for you, the you who practically forced your presence and love onto him.

It almost didn’t even feel like a part of his plan to gain the two fortunes, even though he would force himself to remember this was just business. Ah, but you made it so easy to enjoy life. You made him forget for a moment he was not the son of Dario Brando. You could made him forget he was a maniacal bastard orphan, instead making him feel he was Dio. A new Dio, a Dio no one could have thought ever existed, even him. A Dio that was just a man, for once.

He would become Dio, the man who would pick you fresh roses. Dio, the man who carried you over puddles on the street. Dio, who enjoyed drinking tea with you. Dio, who loved when you slipped into your mother tongue. Dio, who held you when you cried. Dio, the man who would get curious whenever you would remark joyfully about his birth marks, saying he must have been lucky.

The only thing “lucky” about him was you. That’s all he could genuinely point out in his life as “lucky” and “good”.

So slowly, and foolishly, the only thing he could do was simply let you in deeper into his heart, letting you carve your initials into him and marking him as your helpless servant.

----

It had now been two months since your passing. Dio returned to the mansion in a drunken stupor, finding he was unfortunately still aware.

Aware of how empty he was. How angry he was. How much he despised everything.

Why the hell was Jonathan crying over you? Jonathan knew nothing about you. Jonathan didn’t love you or care for you anywhere close that Dio did.

That rich boy who had everything handed to him and given to him just for existing knew nothing of the pain Dio was feeling.

He didn’t deserve to cry over you. Didn’t deserve to feel a god damn thing about you.

Dio was the one supposed to marry you- not him! So Jonathan should have left and let him grieve properly over the fact his betrothed was now gone.

Was this God’s way of punishing him? Huh? Was this his sick joke? A reminder to him that no matter he did, he was never meant to be happy?

Was that all his life was? One meaningless, empty joke for God to amuse himself with?

Dio couldn’t help but burn every letter he had kept from you over the years. He didn’t need them. With a bottle of alcohol in his hand and a few letters in the other, he held them over the fireplace and let them burn to ash and dust. He didn’t care. Couldn’t care less.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing could ever bring him satisfaction. Nothing could ever bring him joy or peace. He was obviously not meant to have it.

Even your own father tried to console Dio, having thought of him like a son, but Dio couldn’t bother. Your father promised to give employment and a portion his fortune to Dio still, already securing his future wealth.

But that wasn’t enough. It was not enough. For every ounce of love you tried to give Dio, he felt a thousand times more angry at the world he lived in.

He didn’t need this world. He didn’t want any of this. He couldn’t live like this.

He couldn’t die like you- oh god, no, he couldn’t. He’d most certainly be punished and made to repent for his sins.

As he burned the last of your letters, he downed the rest of the alcohol, burning his throat. He could not muster anymore tears, not after he laid the roses down on your tombstone. Dio Brando was dead and buried alongside you.

All that was left of him was his hatred.

So close to having everything he wanted, and now it was all gone.

He was so close to even giving up his earlier desires to torture Jonathan, instead content to protect your father’s business and travel with you after he finished getting his degree. But now he had nothing to hope for.

Drunk as he may have been, he found himself thinking like he did when he was a young boy.

Yes… I’ll just kill them all. I’ll ruin them all. I should’ve stuck with that plan originally.

He cursed himself between hiccups, cursing himself for daring to let you in, letting himself feel safe around you, letting himself be vulnerable and able to be torn to shreds by you.

It was his fault. His fault for all of this. If he hadn’t acted a fool and loved you, he could’ve had Jonathan gone, perhaps disowned or dying in a ditch somewhere. He could’ve been the richest, prodigal son of Britain. He would’ve been powerful then. He wouldn’t have had to have you extinguish every ounce of life within him.

He was no longer human. He was now Dio. Only Dio.

Dio, who hated everything. Dio, who had no love for anything but himself. Dio, who wanted everything erased. Dio, who had become exactly like the man he despised most.

He hated it all.

In his anger, he picked up the pictures you had given him and threw them all in the fire. He hacked out his lungs when the smoke billowed from them and surrounded him. A few photos began to melt before his very eyes, but for some reason, one of them caught his eye.

The terracotta, three story mansion from your trip in Cairo. The one you wanted to take him to. The one you two dreamed about going on your honeymoon for. The one you joked about possibly buying and redesigning to make it your home forever.

He gasped and grabbed the photo, blowing out the flame quickly and saving a majority of the picture. The corner was burned off, but the picture still remained. He held it to his chest and let out a shaky breath.

Cairo was something he could never give up. Cairo, the only place that would allow him to be with you. Cairo, the place where you two promised to go.

You promised.

So why…? Why? Why, why, why?

But Cairo would have to wait. He had something he needed to do first. Once he could get rid of Jonathan and George, and everything else that would stand in his way, then he could go there.

I will find you again in Cairo, my (Y/n)...

#x reader #reader insert #jojo #jjba x reader #jjba imagines #jjba #dio brando #dio brando x reader #phantom blood dio x reader #dio x reader

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thot-writes · 2 years

Text

i’ve been watching moriarty the patriot (finally) and first of all eat the rich and second of all i love william. here’s something for my williamheads out there

william james moriarty is sexually attracted to idiots (and you’re the idiot);

at first glance, no one knows how the fuck a refined genius like William and a single-digit IQ buffoon manage to work

you’re vastly different people, after all. while William has enough brainpower to run all of England you have enough brawn to break it down by hand

you’re abnormally strong for your build, you always have been, and you tend to stray away from the law which is what attracted William’s interest in the first place

you became the brute force that would come in and fuck shit up whenever shit required fucking up, and you were more deadly barehanded than most people are equipped, so you became a “personal bodyguard” of sorts.

but holy shit were you dumb.

part of you hated being around william so much, because he’d say things and then someone else would reply with different things and you were always just completely lost

what’s going on? who does this dude want revenge on? how is will gonna get everyone out? who is this guy? how’d he find us? wait, did he find us or did we find him? i need a nap.

once you accompanied william on a train with a murder onboard. also onboard was william’s rival (another man who thought so hard it made your head hurt). and by the end of it you were still confused

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand…” you said, though it was a blatant lie, there were many things you didn’t understand. “Who was the killer?”

you remember the blank-faced stare from will and louis. those judgemental red eyes continue to bore into your soul.

but william found himself distressingly attracted to you anyway. he didn’t know why, but every time you opened your mouth and something stupid came out he was overcome with an urge to rip his suit in twain.

as you got to know each other better, he found himself seeking your presence whenever he could. you had a lot of stories about your life before you met him, and your comedic timing was impeccable. you seemed to be the only person who could make him laugh — genuinely, that is, not the “weird evil one” you always say he does.

before long you were paramours. there was no official conversation, there didn’t need to be, it was just where your relationship went naturally.

you’d spend as much time together as possible, and you came to notice that whenever you said one of your trademark idiot things that william would fix you with a hungry gaze. it wasn’t perceptible to the average person, but you’d known him so well at that point you could easily tell.

occasionally, whenever privacy permitted, he’d all but jump you once you were alone.

between his fervent kisses you’d ask, “Not that I’m against this—“ he steals your lips again, “but why’re you so excited all of a sudden?”

he pulls away and caresses your cheek, his eyes a mix of lust and adoration. “Darling, would you really prefer to talk when you could just take me?”

that never failed to get you going, which is why he’d say it. he wasn’t really looking forward to confronting that he got insta-hard whenever you acted stupid.

the only time he can hold himself back (other than being in public, that is) is when you’re injured or otherwise unwell. he gets so beside himself with worry that his persona cracks — just a little, but enough to be noticed by his brothers, and certainly more than anyone else can manage.

you stepped into the office one evening with blood pooling into the fabric of your shirt. Louis speaks up first, “You’ve been injured!” he all but yells as he rushes to grab a first aid kit.

you didn’t even seem to notice. you look down and jab at the wound. “Oh yeah, I did get lightly stabbed.”

Moran barks out, “You got stabbed?!”

“Lightly,” you correct him. “That guy William had me nab had a friend with him. I tried to grab him too but I uh… killed him. I didn’t try to snap his neck it just happened. Sorry, boss,” you say, nodding apologetically in William’s direction.

there’s very little to betray his emotions, but as soon as he saw your injury he bit the inside of his cheek. he shakes his head, his smile transfixed but now slightly strained. “Not at all. You did well. Once you get that wound treated you should get some rest, I’ll come see you soon.”

he doesn’t leave your side that night. you insist it’s not a big deal but he can’t bring himself to leave.

part of william hates that he puts you in danger regularly. the logical part knows that you’re near-superhuman with your uncanny strength and constitution, but the emotional part, the part that loves you so dearly it gets anxious when you’re not near, berates him for risking it anyway.

despite you being the one who’s injured, you hold will close and assure him that you’re not going anywhere. “I’d drag my sorry ass up from Hell to come back to you, Will,” you tell him. and you mean it. there’s scarce a force in this world or the next that could stop you.

he smiles a little and relaxes in your arms, inhaling your scent and tracing a finger along your muscles. “I know, my love.”

at first glance, no one knows how the fuck a refined genius like William and a single-digit IQ buffoon manage to work.

at a deeper inspection, it becomes apparent that there’s no one else in the world better suited for each other than you two.

#reader insert #my posts #william james moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot headcanons #moriarty the patriot imagines #william moriarty x reader #william moriarty x you #gender neutral reader #fluff

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georgie-weasley · 2 months

Note

I dont know if you're up for it, but I am reading COS again and I am so frustrated by Lockheart! I was wondering if you could do one where y/n asks George (and Fred) to prank him.

Thanks in advance! Have a nice day! X

This was so fun to write! Thank you for requesting it!

Lilac G.W. x GN!Reader

Warnings: one swear word, reader almost vomits because of Lockhart (not graphic and hardly mentioned and they don't actually throw up)

Word Count: 2.5k

Paring: George Weasley x GN!Reader (they are already in a relationship)

Summary: Lockhart is pissing you off so you and the Weasley twins decide to mess with him

Masterlist Taglist

As soon as the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom opened, the room let out a collective dreamy sigh. In the back of the classroom however, you and the Weasley twins couldn’t help groaning and rolling your eyes. Was he hot? Yeah, he most certainly was. Was he a complete fool that probably didn’t know his left hand from his left foot? Also, yes. It seemed like just about everyone that was attracted to men found his face perfect. You thought he was perfectly punchable.

Lockhart busied himself passing out essays, spending only a few seconds to congratulate some of the students on their fantastic work. However, when he came to the back of the room with yours and the twins' essays, he frowned. “Really I’m quite disappointed in you three. Honestly it’s like you didn’t even bother to read Voyages with Vampires. My book had all the information you needed to write the essay. It’s a shame just how poorly this will affect your grades. After all, you failed your tests on my autobiography.”

He set the essays on your table and went back to the front of the class, giving a dramatic reenactment of a scene from his book. You grabbed your essay and frowned as you saw the bright purple ‘D’ for dreadful. That grade was completely undeserved; you had spent weeks in the library researching vampires to make sure your essay had all the correct information. Apparently you didn’t need to be correct, you just needed to agree with whatever Lockhart said.

Looking to your left and right, you saw Fred and George had matching grades. They had been in the library with you most of the time. They deserved a better grade as well.

“Are we sure he’s qualified to teach?” You mumbled, shoving your essay in your bag.

George and Fred snorted. “Not at all,” they said at the same time.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. “If I had wanted to learn nonsense I would have asked the Giant Squid to teach me about vampires, though I’m sure she’s probably smarter than Lockhart is.”

George took your hand in his, entangling your fingers. “Maybe by the end of the year Dumbledore will realize he hired a buffoon and none of these grades will count.”

You smiled a little at his attempt to comfort you, thankful he cared so much. George had been your boyfriend for the past couple of months and he was the best. He was always trying to help and constantly trying to find a way to touch you such as holding your hand in class. “I appreciate your attempts to make this better George. Maybe you’re right but it doesn’t solve anything right now. He’s just so smug, acting like he’s a gift to the wizarding world when he’s just a scumbag. I want to do something now.”

Fred looked at you with a wild smirk. “Am I hearing this incorrectly or does our lovely Y/N here want to mess with Lockhart?”

George looked down at you, mischief in his eyes. Would messing with Lockhart make up for all the terrible grades he had given you? No, but it would bring you some much needed joy. “Let’s do it. I want to make a grown man cry.”

---

During lunch, you and George met up in the transfiguration classroom. “Alright we need to be fast. We just need 20 minutes to make the potion and then it can sit in the vial until later.” You said as you set up the small potion making kit on one of the desks. McGonagall wouldn’t be gone for too long and you needed enough time to pack up the miniature cauldron as well.

George nodded, kissed your cheek, and started grabbing ingredients out of your bag. “I’ll start crushing the beetles and you can start preparing the flobberworm mucus.”

Taking the thick liquid, you dumped it in the cauldron. With a quick spell, you lit the fire beneath the cauldron and watched it start to bubble. George leaned over to check on the potion and deeming it ready, he added the beetles and began stirring the potion clockwise.

You and George worked perfectly together for the next ten minutes, adding different ingredients until you only had one left. With a wild smirk, George grabbed the lilacs and began grinding them until they started to form a paste. “I can’t wait to see his face once he sees what we’ve done to him.”

Before you could answer, the classroom door opened and McGonagall scowled at you both. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

George glanced at you before looking at the almost complete potion. “Professor, we were just trying to make a potion.”

“And what is the reason for the potion, pray tell?” She said with an exasperated sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We want to screw with Professor Lockhart. He needs to be knocked down a peg and we can do it with the potion.” As soon as you spoke, George looked at you with wide eyes. This could easily be the worst idea you ever had but judging by the way the other teachers looked at Lockhart behind his back (and to his face occasionally), they had to dislike him as much as you did.

She walked over to you and looked at the potion over your shoulder. She narrowed her eyes, clearly judging the ugly brown color it was and the smell rolling off of it. “And you’re finished?”

You shook your head and gestured to the lilac paste in George’s hands. “We just have one last ingredient to add. Please, let us finish and then you can take as many house points as you want.”

“Well,” George mumbled. “Maybe not as many as you want. You still want Gryffindor to win the house cup right?”

The corner of McGonagall’s mouth twitched upward, a smile threatening to break through her stoic expression. “Ten points from each of you for misuse of my classroom. I’ll give you each five back if this potion is as successful as you claim it will be.”

She turned on her heel and walked back toward the door. “Make sure you clean up after yourselves or you’ll lose another ten points. The potion smells horrid.” She spoke over her shoulder before she closed the door behind her.

George looked at you, his mouth hanging open in shock. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“I can.” You laughed, taking the lilacs from George. “McGonagall has always been cool.”

---

That evening before dinner, the three of you were huddled in a small alcove by Lockhart’s bedroom. Students were strictly forbidden from entering the area of the castle dedicated to bedrooms for the staff but of course that wasn’t going to stop the Weasley twins. “So here’s the plan,” you whispered as you held the Marauder’s Map in front of you. Luckily the boys had found this in first year as it was extremely handy. “Lockhart should be coming out soon to go to dinner. When he comes out, I’ll distract him and keep him busy talking as we walk to the Great Hall. Fred,” you turned to the boy on your right, “you stand watch and keep checking the map. If anyone is coming, you give George the signal.”

Fred paled. “Right, the signal.”

“Have you discussed what that was going to be?”

Fred rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I was thinking I could oink like a pig.”

A moment of silence passed before George spoke. “You idiot. There are no pigs in Hogwarts. You think someone will think it’s normal?”

Fred sighed and looked at his feet in shame. “It was my first idea alright.” He shoved his brother who started to laugh. “Shut up George. I’ll think of a signal alright. Please move on Y/N.”

With less confidence than you had before, you moved on to George. “Fine. George, while you’re in there you’re gonna use the potion and put it in Lockhart’s shampoo. Then get out of there. Don’t hang around because I don’t know how long I can listen to Lockhart talk about himself.”

George nodded and lightly punched your shoulder. “We got this. In and out and if all goes well, tomorrow Lockhart will cry.”

Leaving the twins, you waited for the blonde professor in the hallway. It wasn’t too long before he appeared. “Professor Lockhart! Could I ask you a question please?” You ran over to him, walking in step with him.

“Why of course…” He looked at you, eyebrows furrowing.

“Y/N.” You reminded him of your name, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yes, of course Y/N. Just testing to make sure my starpower didn’t make you forget your name.” He flashed you a fabulous smile.

Ignoring the bile rising in your throat, you smiled. “I was reading Voyages with Vampires after my poor grade I received and I must say, I am in awe of your abilities.” Lockhart smiled, absolutely beaming at your praise. “What else have you done? I’m sure there’s more you haven’t written about.”

“It’s true. If I wrote every single one of my accomplishments I would have hundreds of books. Let me tell you about the time I saved a town from a dragon.”

Back in the teacher wing, George was in Lockhart’s bathroom. Luckily for everyone, Lockhart was so obsessed with himself, his room was covered in pictures of himself so there was no denying this was his room. The pictures of Lockhart looked at George, absolutely gobsmacked to see him there. George quickly slipped into the bathroom before the paintings and pictures could look at him closely enough to remember what he looked like. He did not need a painting telling Lockhart it was him who was in there.

As soon as he entered the bathroom the overwhelming smell of lilac punched him in the face. The man was not only obsessed with himself but with lilacs as well. He loved the color and it made George chuckle to himself as he looked at the potion in his hand. After sitting for most of the afternoon, the color changed from brown to lilac and it had the smell to match. Lockhart would never know it didn’t belong here.

He added the potion to the shampoo bottle and gave it a good shake, mixing the two liquids. As he was setting the bottle back down, he heard oinking from the hallway. “Ah shit.” He groaned and dashed out of Lockhart’s room, crashing into Fred in the hallway. The twins landed in a pile on the floor, George trapped under his brother. At the end of the hall you were following Lockhart, almost begging him to keep talking about himself but he insisted he had to leave since he forgot something in his room.

George pushed Fred off of him and they ran the opposite way, putting as much distance between them and the room as possible. Seeing the boys leave, you gave up on Lockhart, letting him leave.

When you caught up with the boys during dinner, George assured you that everything was fine and he added the potion just in time. Hearing his confidence, you relaxed a little and the three of you agreed to sneak back to the teacher's wing first thing in the morning.

---

Before the sun had even risen, the three of you sat on the floor in the hallway, watching the map. It was a little creepy to stare at Lockhart’s dot on the map as much as you were but you didn’t want to miss anything. The dot started to move and you and the twins perked up, watching as it moved to the bathroom.

An hour later, a scream came from the direction of Lockhart’s room. Teacher’s quickly emerged from their rooms, searching for the source of the scream. McGonagall came out of her room, her hair down and looking like she just woke up. She quickly spotted you and the twins and raised an eyebrow. You waved a little and turned your attention back to the door, watching as the doorknob turned and out stepped Lockhart, his blonde hair now a delightful lilac color. His hair perfectly matched his lilac robes.

McGonagall covered her mouth, stifling her laughter as Lockhart looked around wildly for the culprit. His gaze landed on the three of you and he scowled, stomping over to you, yelling with tears in his eyes as he did. “What have you done to me? You ruined my hair! You are going to fix this right now you horrid little gremlins!”

“Gilderoy, that is no way to speak to students.” McGonagall stood next to you, glaring at Lockhart. “Especially when you don’t know if they were the ones that did this.”

“My paintings said a redheaded boy came into my room last night! Here we have two redheaded boys at the scene of the crime!”

McGonagall sighed, glancing at George out of the corner of her eye. “Gilderoy, are you aware just how many Weasleys there are? Let alone how many ginger students we have? It is impossible to assume either of these young boys were in your room last night.”

Lockhart crossed his arms over his chest, pouting like a child. “And you can prove they weren’t here last night? You can guarantee they weren’t out here waiting to see the result of their attack on me?”

McGonagall nodded, no longer hiding her smile. “In fact, they were serving detention with me last night and I requested they all meet me here this morning to discuss the rest of their detention. I’m sure Y/N was just dropping them off.” Lockhart opened his mouth to argue more but he was quickly cut off. “I suggest you visit Severus before breakfast, Gilderoy. He would be your best bet at removing this effect on your hair.”

She led the three of you away and down the hall, leaving a flustered and lilac Lockhart standing alone. In the other hallway, McGonagall shook her head, still smiling. “Fantastic job you three. Next time, don’t let the paintings catch you or wait directly outside of the crime scene.”

“Next time?” You all asked at the same time.

“Yes, because I am certain this will not be the last time something like this happens. After all, we are only in November and Lockhart will be here until June. Five points for each of you for bringing me more joy than I’ve had in a long time.” McGonagall gave you all one last smile and headed back to her room.

“I can’t believe how well this worked out.” Fred chuckled. “I’d better go tell Ron to lay low so Lockhart doesn’t try to pin this on him.”

Fred left, leaving you and George alone in the hallway. He turned and smiled, throwing an arm around you and tugging you into his side. “Feel better?”

“Oh yeah. Seeing Lockhart seconds from crying over his hair will bring me happiness for the rest of my life.”

“How long until the potion wears off?”

“By my calculations… three days.” You smirked, causing George to laugh.

“Merlin, I love you.” He smiled and gave you a kiss but was interrupted by his stomach grumbling. “I suppose we should get some breakfast.”

You took his hand in yours and started walking to the Great Hall. “Yes, we don’t want to miss Lockhart’s grand reveal.”

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