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#still holding out for arcane
mommymothma · 11 months
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Nothing says pride month more than Netflix pushing all the WLW content they canceled
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myrkkymato · 6 months
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Dirty Little Animals
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That song is so going to be my most listened song this year. It fits both of them so well.
Art nerd alert underneath:
If you like drawing with (waterproof) ink, you can try watering small amounts down. Dried layers don't smudge like aquarelles do but liquid ink behaves like aquarelles on wet surfaces.
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mrbonsaibones · 6 months
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hmmm....thinking about....maybe writing ace/aro caitvi for the first time....might be fun.....might help me figure some stuff out....hmmm......
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goddessofroyalty · 2 years
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well I have quickly become obsessed with O!Silco. Do you ever think Silco told Vander to get him pregnant on purpose? Or just reminiscing about how much he actually enjoyed being pregnant and nursing etc?
(If you want to see some Silco reminiscing about having his own kids there is a bit of it in this Zaun Family fill I did)
So this is one of those things where I could just as easily seeing it as being something that happened (eg Silco actually directly telling Vander to get him pregnant) and also never happening (eg the most Vander getting is Silco more being like 'how about we stop doing the things to prevent it'). Just like I could see it being purely dirty talk with no actual plan for a baby to result or that dirty talk never happening even when they are trying to conceive.
I think it's when there starts being a big gap since his last pregnancy that he starts to miss it and admit he actually enjoyed it. Because his actually feelings about pregnancy is very love-hate - there are bits he loves (knowing his child is safe in him and the bond he feels with them that not even Vander gets because they shared his body) and bits he hates (no alcohol or smoking and the lose of mobility). As more and more time passes he stops thinking about the parts of it he hated and instead focusing on the parts he liked.
His relationship to nursing them is kind of the... least believed denial anyone around him has heard. He will tell them how inconvenient it is, how he's looking forward to them being weaned so Vander can be responsible for feeding them, etc, etc. But he so so clearly likes it (because of very similar reasons to why he liked being pregnant) and everyone knows it.
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amandacanwrite · 3 months
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I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.
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In Battle
He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.
Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?
You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.
When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.
He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.
He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.
In Camp
He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.
“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“
Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.
He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.
“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”
When You’re Alone
It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.
“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”
He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.
Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.
You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.
In Intimate Moments
(Potential NSFW below.)
Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.
“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”
Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.
Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.
“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”
His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.
Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.
You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.
“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”
He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.
Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.
So many cuddles after you’re done.
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see-arcane · 2 months
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I wrote a book!
The Vampyres is the happy horrifying accident born of feverish scribbling in the wake of Dracula season* (*inhaling Dracula Daily and Re: Dracula at the same time May thru November). It features a number of familiar villainous faces from classic supernatural lit, though not everyone is wearing their original name anymore. The story takes place in the 21st century and you can only hold onto those sentimental titles so long in the mayfly mortal world before you start drawing attention.
Not that swapping out pseudonyms has done anything to thwart the new shadow looming over the revenant community…
Description
Something is culling the undead.
Whether they imbibe blood, leech life, or traded mortality away to their devil of choice, the revenants of the world are disappearing. The Vampyre, a possessor of many names and collector of many lives, has been fretting over the phenomenon for some time.
A laughable fear, for he is one of those canny cadaverous few who made a deal for perpetual resurrection. The bitten may crumble, but the bargainer can rise from death after death. So he reminds himself. So he worries is no longer the case.
Not when the boyar in the Carpathians was one of the first to vanish. Still, the monster from the mountains may simply be in hiding, just as the rest of the bargainers must be. The Vampyre convinces himself of this for a single night……before the monster called Quinn Morse makes itself known.
Preview
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Where to Buy
eBook: https://books2read.com/thevampyres
Paperback (Bookshop being a U.S. store search*): https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-vampyres-c-r-kane/21171669?ean=9798218374587
*Available internationally!
To Search by ISBN
eBook ISBN: 9798218374594
Paperback ISBN: 9798218374587
My ocular official site
Goodreads
For those who want to speak their Opinion ™ on the nefarious nonsense in the novella, take a look:
Art Pile
Announcement Post Flyer - Cover Conundrum - Preorder Announcement - Vampyre Valentine
Skull Scratch - Eye in the Sky - Food Chain of the Vampyre - A Long Night In - Red Smile - Prototype Book Cover
BONUS: Fanart Book Cover!
Ko-Fi
If you’d like to donate a buck or commission some art, I have a Ko-Fi here.
Spotify
Tunes to run for your unlife to.
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ramshacklerumble · 4 months
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honestly one of the biggest questions i had in regards to vice housewarden deuce was: so is the hat a vice thing or a trey thing?
and once again consulting my lil circle of friends, i landed on it actually being a cater thing. trey’s whole thing is that he doesn’t like to stand out or be noticed so i thought it was funny that he just walked around with a hat when no one else did. the thought was cater was who suggested trey wore a hat so people could tell he’s was vice, trey objected, but in the very few bets trey has ever lost against cater he winds up wearing the hat.
deuce continues the legacy, believing the hat was just part of the uniform. he doesn’t realize this isn’t the case until the seniors drop back around when the sdc is back and trey has to break it to him. at that point tho, it’s already become a thing, and deuce continues to wear the hat.
that aside, the way deuce became vice was pretty simple. ace asked him to. in regular ace fashion though, he went: well, who ELSE was i gonna ask? it’s not like i gotta lotta options.
but we all know that even if he did, deuce would’ve been his choice anyway.
i mentioned in the tags of the previous post that deuce is constantly on ace’s ass over his housewarden duties— but unlike ruggie and jamil who ran around doing everything for their housewardens— deuce simply enforces. deuce holds him accountable. and this is generally what deuce does in the grand scheme of the dorm as well.
when ace gives an order, deuce ensures this is carried out and he’s rather good at it. it’s something i wanna explore more during his sophomore year as by the time he’s a junior i feel deuce is far more at peace with who he is and how he uses his past experiences, but because deuce is far more empathetic and willing to be more open with others, dorm members find themselves listening to deuce more than they do ace. (i have a trio of triplet ocs who only exclusively listen to deuce, even when riddle was still around, and it’s because deuce had come to accept his hotbloodedness and learned how to use it to connect with others.)
deuce is aware he doesn’t have the sharp wit ace does or the commanding presence riddle did, but his interpersonal skills are leagues beyond.
he’s more at ease with letting his more passionate side come out when he needs to put his foot down and he’s a fantastic motivator. while he might be second in command, i like the idea of junior year really honing his leadership skills that he eventually takes with him when he sets his sights on the arcane response unit. you can pry high ranking a.r.u officer!deuce from my cold dead hands :)
gently tagging @mundaneasphyxia since you asked so nicely lel this wasn’t going to be a subject i dwelled much on as it’s kinda just part of hashing out timelines for my ships and stuff but like hey if anyone else wants to ask bout anything they’re curious about regarding this go right ahead i guess
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genacity · 7 months
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DAY FOUR. LOCKJAW
ft. vi — league of legends / arcane
after coming home from a long day of work, your darling girlfriend vi surprises you with some gourmet chocolate. a sweet affection laced with something she thinks she’ll get away with, little does she know that you know her all too well.
ruling. nsfw — mature content
content warnings. afab! reader, sub! vi, aphrodisiac chocolate, degradation, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, slight overstimulation, vi uses nicknames for the reader (babe, baby, honey, sweetheart)
an. mommy mama oh god. this one is a little short bcs its like kind of vanilla or whatever but oh my god mother vi i would let her #### me til i ###### ngh. also i know i said i didn’t like the word cunt but I HAD TO USE IT I WAS USING PUSSY TOO MANY TIMES IT HAD TO HAPPEN IM SORRY!!!
kinktober 2023 masterlist
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“slow down, y/n, please,” your girlfriend vi whined, hips jolting away from your tongue. “you’re being so rough, baby please.”
today you came home from work a bit tired. so, your beloved decided to surprise you with some chocolate. of course, you couldn’t deny a sweet treat. but a few moments after taking a bite, the world seemed so humid all of a sudden.
after fumbling around hazily for the discarded box, you found out that the chocolate had an aphrodisiac in the strawberry filling. some hormones or something, you don’t remember — not like you could when you were pushing your girlfriend into bed, ready to ravage her like a wild animal.
“sit still.” you instructed, burying your face into her pussy and licking a stripe up to her clit. she flinched and shied away; only to be dragged back down onto your face with your hands digging into her thighs.
vi whimpered, feeling your fingers hold her right in place. “i — baby, i’m sorry, i just wanted to try something out, babe—” she tried to explain, writing and jerking as you ate her out. “don’t apologize,” you murmured. the vibrations of your voice against her clit made her moan quietly. “just sit back and take what i give you, okay?”
she hesitated, but eventually nodded slowly and felt herself lean back into the bed. her thighs clenched around your head as you dove back down, tongue fucking her slowly.
as you kept working at her pussy, your hand made its way over to accompany your tongue. your middle finger was the first to slowly work its way inside of her, causing vi to gasp and writhe against the sheets.
“baby, oh god…” vi gasped, voice weaving weakly in and out of moans. again her hips tried to shy away from you. you pulled her back down with your free hand onto your lips before using the same hand to smack her thigh, causing her to jolt and whine. her voice left you wet, thoughts racing as you clenched your thighs together.
your finger worked in and out of her, pumping hastily as you pulled her down further onto your face. nose buried against her clit, your tongue worked at her core like a dying man’s first taste of water.
you slipped another finger inside of her, ring finger accompanying the middle. using the hand digging into her flesh to further spread her legs, burying your head in between vi’s thighs as she let out a strained gasp.
she let out another breathy moan. “you’re so fucking good at this, oh my god baby, please…” vi mumbled, voice going hoarse as your fingers sped up. you hummed to show her you were listening, and again the vibrations of your voice against her clit made her groan.
the haze of the aphrodisiac left you with more stamina than usual. your jaw and mouth working fast, tongue only working faster as your fingers struggle to keep up. your lips were sloppy against vi’s cunt. every lick and suck at her core was desperate and almost animalistic. her noises left your own pussy soaking in your underwear.
“babe — baby. baby, i’m gonna cum,” vi’s stomach muscles tensed and un-tensed as her hips began to grind down onto your tongue. “i’m gonna cum. please, love, i’m gonna cum.”
again you hummed, nose pressed against her clit as she came around your tongue with a drawn out gasp. but when you didn’t stop, she jerked up and tried to scramble backwards once more.
you brought your hand down onto vi’s thigh again, continuing to fuck her pussy with your tongue as she let out a strained moan. “babe, honey, ‘s too much,” she began to babble, grabbing at your hair as you kept thrusting your fingers and tongue into her. “i — i just came. sweetheart, i just came!”
“you can cum again.” you muttered in between her legs. she whined, thighs closing in around your head once more. “no. no, i can’t. i — i can’t do it, please, i need a break..”
but you didn’t stop. you wouldn’t unless you heard vi say the one word that would truly put all of this to rest. not even once your jaw began to cramp and lock and your wrist became sore from hitting her sweet spot over and over again.
until then, you’d continue to have your share. of your girlfriend, and the rest of that chocolate.
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mikeysw1fey · 6 months
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penalty shot
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request linked here
pairing: jenna ortega x female reader
warnings: none
a/n: i think i’m also gonna start writing for arcane characters (mostly sevika) , lemme know what u guys want :)
Stress doesn’t even begin to cover the amount of anxiety I feel as I stand under the stadium lights readying myself to kick a penalty goal. My team may be up by one but missing this kick could ruin my chances at moving up the league ladder. Plus it doesn’t help that football fans are never lenient when it comes to penalty goals, miss it and your basically the worst player to ever walk the field.
Taking a deep breathe I glance toward the goalie who stands crouched in the middle of the goal side stepping from side to side ready to dive. With a clench of my jaw and a last glance at my team behind me I manage to calm myself as each member nods their head in encouragement. Finally I begin to run towards the ball, grass kicking up in my wake as I lift my right leg and make contact with the ball.
The stadium is silent, watching as the ball flies through the air looking as if it’s going for top bins. My hopes are quickly squashed however as the goalie manages to get a finger to the ball causing it to fly up and over the goal and straight into first row of the crowd.
An ooh echoes around the stadium as my ball smacks a brown haired woman dead in the middle of her face. Her hands immediately flying up to her nose as she winces in pain. “Shit.” I mumble under my breath seeing the woman on the big screen, my cheeks blushing red as I notice how beautiful she happens to be.
“Dude, you just hit Jenna Ortega in the face.” My teammate Sam whispers, her eyes not leaving the big screen either. “Of course I did. I’ll be right back.” I pat her on the back before heading over towards Jenna who dabs at her nose which runs red blood all down her chin.
“Hey, no you can’t leave the field.” The ref sprints in front of me, an arm extended out before me to prevent me from getting any further. “I just need to see if she’s ok.” I plead gently pushing the refs arm.
“Only time your leaving this field before time is up will be for a red card and if u keep behaving how you are it won’t be far away.” The refs eyes narrow before he picks up his whistle and blows it loudly in my ear.
“Get back on the field.” He seethes, a vein popping on his neck. Holding my hands up in surrender I head back to the field glancing over my shoulder to find Jenna already staring at me. I send her an apologetic smile to which she raises her eyebrows with a tiny smile she tried so hard to hide.
Throughout the rest of the match I can’t help but glance over at the brown haired woman who holds a cloth to her nose yet still cheers loudly. Even with the blood running down her chin and the large cloth covering half her face, her beauty still managed to force the blood to rush to my cheeks.
Finally only two minutes remain with the score now tied. The crowd fades into background noise as I slide across the ground successfully tackling a girl from the opposite team causing her to trip over my foot as it hits the ball from between her legs. Her arms extend as she gasps, glaring at the ref as if trying to force him to give me a yellow card.
Luckily the call never comes allowing me to take the ball that rolls down the field and dribble it towards the goals. Defenders come my way pausing my play as I somehow manage to manoeuvre the ball between their legs until it is just me and the goalie once again.
Kicking hard silence falls over the stadium as my ball flies through the air. Only this time the goalie dives the opposite way allowing the back of the net to catch my ball.
The stadium erupts into cheers and applause, my name echoing across the stadium as the buzzer finally sounds ending the match. I find myself surrounded by my team mates, each one wrapping their arms around me and slapping my back in celebration of our victory but I only have eyes for one person at this time.
“Guys, guys hang on I have to do something. One minute.” I force my way out the group and head towards the crowd once again, only this time no ref stops me as I lean against the barricade where Jenna sits.
“I’m so sorry for hitting you.” I apologise instantly, gently biting my lip as she sticks her tongue out to wet her lips. “You made up for it with that last goal.” She shrugs with a small smile. “Plus it’s not broken so.” Jenna pulls the cloth away from her nose for a second as if to show me her button nose is far from damaged. “Yeah still looks perfect to me.” I flirt holding eye contact with the girl who raises an eyebrow. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” She fakes a pout and I let out a laugh before stepping backwards.
“Well then let me make it up to you.” I pull my jersey over my head leaving me in just a sports bra and shorts. “Got a pen? I can sign it for you too.” I chuckle as Jenna not so subtly eyes my stomach before reaching into her back pocket. “How do you even know I go for your team?” She teases watching me with a grin as I roll my eyes.
“Well the cheering and screaming of my name was a large sign.” I retort leaning my jersey against the barricade so I can write on it.
Signing my name and my number onto the jersey I place it in her hand, ignoring the tingling sensation as her finger graze mine. “Don’t sell it or I’ll have to change my number for the third time.” I playfully threaten. “Ooh I might just have to. Call it revenge.” Jenna chuckles before glancing over my shoulder.
“Looks like people are waiting on you. I’ll text you. Maybe.” She grins. I raise an eyebrow. “I’ll be waiting Miss Ortega. And I promise next time I see you there will be no blood noses involved.” I send her a wink before turning around and heading back to the field.
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sleepyangelkami · 4 months
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NS//FW ALPHABET .vi
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 ☆ WORD COUNT - 5.3K
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VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER
 ☆ WARNINGS - smut, nsf//w themes, much much more but unfortunately i will not be typing them all out because this entire post is around sexual themes, read at your own risk ! intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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AFTERCARE, what they're like after sex vi likes to be a little rough, this is no secret to you or her. but she makes sure to change that as soon as it's over. she'll take the harness off her hips, discarding it before crawling back up to you, placing kisses on your cheek and shoulder. "you okay?" always wanting to know what's going on inside you're head. "was it okay? too rough? no?" of course she likes it rough, so do you, neither of you would have it any other way but she also wants to make sure that you can communicate your limits, even through your fucked out glossy lips. "good girl, that feel better?" she'll already be rubbing cream on the little bruises, whether it was on your hips or across your ass. she doesn't care where it hurts, all she cares is to make it better. "my pretty girl, did so well." she'll make sure to murmur as she cleans your bottom half with a cloth, trying to ignore your broken whimpers as she coos, attempting to shush you. you'll both sleep naked, skin to skin with your arms woven around her neck, hers around your waist and holding you close. 
BODY PART, her favourite body part of hers and also yours it's no secret that you're obsessed with her arms, it made her a little obsessed with them too. she loves her biseps, the way they flex and most importantly, the way you stare at them, all wet-mouthed when they do. she also loves the strength in her arm to keep you pinned against the bed, stopping you from writhing under her or the way they sit at either side of your head, watching you get wide eyed at feeling a little trapped yet awfully flustered. she loves how much you love them. she adores all of you, truly every inch of your body but she'd be lying if she said she didn't love those thighs impossibly more. she loves grabbing at them, pushing your little skirts and dresses up to reveal the skin that she can push and pinch at. she adores nothing more than being inside you, head thrown back yet still, her hands are on those precious thighs, kneading and playing with the plush skin. they're like two stressballs in her hands and you can't help but writhe against her as she does so.
CUM, anything to do with cum really vi can squirt pretty easily, it just comes naturally to her. but what she loves even more than squirting is making you squirt. when you'd looked away, all shy and embarrassed after telling her you'd never been able to squirt before, she just had to take it on as a challenge. and when she was fingering you, pumping her fingers in and out as her mouth sucked on your clit, she couldn't help but grin at the spurts coming from your cunt. "atta girl." she'd coo, pulling her mouth away and pressing a slap to your pussy. "that's it, good girl." all proud of herself for being able to achieve the said impossible.
DIRTY SECRET, a dirty secret of hers vi wouldn't call herself a criminal. sure, she spent her fair share inside stillwater though she thought those circumstances were sort of unnecessary. she thought once she got out, she'd left her thief days behind her. not that she'd call it stealing, she always said she was just doing what she needed to survive. but if that were true, your white cotton panties wouldn't be hidden in her drawer or your lacy pink ones wouldn't be sitting in her back pocket. she was so discrete about it, waiting until you'd turned away or even walked away for a second before slipping them between her fingers and into the back of her pants, right in the pocket. she was good at being sly about it, after all, she'd had practice. you'd come back, looking through your laundry basket or the folded clothes on your bed, brows knit together all confused. "something wrong, cupcake?" she'd question, pretending not to be interested as her eyes studied the comic book that had been sitting on your bed or something or other. "jus' looking for something." you'd mumble distractedly, fishing through your clothes once more, you'd think you'd gone insane. but vi then turned her attention on you, feigning confusion. "what're you looking for?" she'd smirk at the way you'd flush then, turning away. "n-nothing."
EXPERIENCE, how experienced is she? does she know what she's doing? you know, most people think vi doesn't have much experience seeing as she was in prison for a couple years but i BEG TO DIFFER. you cannot tell me this girl wasn't getting around behind those bars. every lunch, every dinner, every time she got out, she was eyeing up someone knew. she didn't care whether they were desperate or played hard to get, she had no preferences when it came to that prison, not that she had a lot to work with anyway. but aside from that, she was pretty much open to just about anything. she didn't care who it was, if they were willing to give, she was willing to take. though, it was often in the most uncomfortable places in the world. in the janitors closet or some other remote area where she wouldn't get caught. times could get tough inside prison and sometimes all you needed was to blow off some steam and get that anger out which is exactly what she did. i think vi would be very experienced in that department which is why it was so different when it came to you. both in a soft bed, no pressure, no need for stress relief. it came calm to her, like she didn't have to rush unlike the people in the prison where if the quickie didn't hurry up, they'd be getting caught by enforcers. which is probably not what one would want to see as they... you know, finish?
FAVOURITE POSITION, self explanatory I think vi likes having you in missionary. there's something about her holding you close, one hand coming beneath your chin to force your head up. "look at me when you take it, 'kay baby?" her voice filled with little whimpers here and there because as much as she tried to stay strong, she couldn't help the way you made her feel. she wants you to keep eye contact all the time, forcing you to look at her whenever your eyes drift away or shut closed. when you're mumbling about being close and she can feel your cunt tightening around the strap, she can't help but grab your face roughly again. "look at me when you cum." it's not a suggestion nor question, it's an order.
GOOFY, is she humorous in the moment? does she make jokes? during sex, vi is usually serious. she's not serious in a scary way that would make you rigid but she doesn't often bring in goofiness to the situation either, unless, of course, you'd asked her to. she wouldn't mind if you'd asked her for something more lighthearted but when vi has sex, her usual instincts take over. she becomes a much more serious person, her entire mind switching to one thing, pleasuring you. the whole point was to make sure you felt good and the last thing she wanted to do was make you insecure in any way. with that being said, she might murmur a couple things with a humorous chuckle. "yeah? you like that cupcake?" when she does something slightly out of your guys' normality. but of course, she knows you like it by the way your back is arching and moans fall freely. but she can't help it but tease.
HAIR, how is she groomed? does the carpet match the drapes? i'd imagine that vi shaves pretty regularly. something about being in prison for so long and not exactly having the option to. now, she has a sense of freedom about it and seeing as she can have longer showers and such i can imagine that she'd be in there for over an hour, shaving too. it also probably makes her feel a little cleaner after being in the prison (not that it's dirty not to shave some people just find it makes them feel cleaner afterwards) but when it comes to you, she really doesn't care. she'd probably prefer you to be a little shaved but i don't think she'd care to the extreme that you'd have to be bald or anything like that. she'd just prefer you to trim, at least, otherwise, you're good! as long as it's not too much.
INTIMACY, how is she in the moment through romantic aspect? vi prefers it intimate. even if she's degrading you, perhaps she's praising you, either way, she's worshipping your body completely. being in the prison, she's had so much meaningless sex that this is so important for her, you're important to her. and having sex is one of the most vulnerable things you can do. she wants not only you to be comfortable but herself to be too. she's not big on 'fucking around and getting it over with' not anymore, at least. with you, she likes to take things slow, even if it's teasing. but don't get me wrong, you can still take things slow to a intimate level and still make sure you're covered in bruises and looking up at her with big watery eyes. she supposes it's just the aspect of caring. there's a difference between degrading some random girl in the janitors closet than degrading you, her beautiful cupcake, even if she's calling you a pathetic slut. even her praises are laced with love, strangely enough.
JACK OFF, anything to do with masturbation vi doesn't masturbate a whole bunch. she's done it many times before, of course, as everyone has but she's not the biggest fan of it. she prefers to feel someone else. before, when she was in the prison, she could have any girl she wanted at her fingertips so she didn't need to. but now that it's just you and her, she has you in her clutch almost always. but of course, as every relationship, there are times when you guys can't be together. and if she's horny then, she has no problem trailing her hand down her own pants, rubbing one out to the thought of you. even if you're not there, you're still the only thing plaguing her mind. she'll think of your whimpers and moans while trying to keep her own at bay. her head stuck in your pillow.
KINK, a kink of hers don't get me wrong, you're one hundred and ten percent vi's pillow princess, she just loves having her fingers burried inside you and her mouth on your weeping cunt. she's just not always sweet about it. vi will edge you until you can't take it anymore. she loves the way she feels you clamping around her fingers, mumbling all needily about how you're close, so so close and it's as if one more pump of her fingers could do it for you. but before you finish, her hand is leaving your body, slapping down on your pussy gently before kissing your shoulders. she loves the way you cry out for her, tears filling your eyes and she has no problem mocking you afterwards. "awh, baby, were you close?" and you'll nod, all sniffly. all you needed was the sweet relief she'd promised you beforehand and yet it was the only thing she wasn't sticking to. it felt good, definitely, amazing even but you just needed to reach the edge and she was denying you of that. "poor thing." she'll push her hand down again, pleasuring and pleasing you until you're seeing stars. and just as you're ready to cum once more, that familiar knot inside your stomach, her hands leave you again. "stop whining." she'll murmur, slapping your cunt again. "or else you won't cum at all."
LOCATION, where is her favourite place to do it vi prefers your bedroom. you have a big upcity house in piltover so the girl could live in your bed if she wanted. it was surely big enough. and with your massive house, walls so thick, she didn't have to worry about anyone hearing you both. there's a difference between you and the other girls she was with, she wanted to take her time with you, make sure you were as comfortable as she would so she could touch you in all the places that she wanted to. vi thought that being comfortable was important and for her, she didn't think she'd be so comfortable doing the things she wanted to you in a public bathroom or a friends house. she loves having you in your bed, the scent of you filling the room, everything was so unique and fit to your personality. she loves being surrounded by your sheets when you finish or having your music player in the corner of the room, one of your favourite songs a low murmur as you whimper and whine into her shoulder, trying to keep your noises down but as always, she didn't like that. "don't do that, wanna hear you." because you had the power to be as loud as you pleased seeing as you were home and comfortable.
MOTIVATION, what turns her on and gets her going vi isn't someone that would get mega turned on easily although it's seemingly always in the back of her head to try and turn you on. she's done it so much that she now does it subconsciously. she doesn't mean to talk to you in that tone at the worst possible moments but when she does, she can see it on your face what she's done. that is what gets her going. she loves when you suddenly get all flustered, a little bashful, especially in front of people. perhaps you're trying to talk to cait when she puts a hand around your waist, touching you a little too much for it to mean nothing. she loves seeing the way your cheeks heat up and you suddenly stumble on your words. she just loves putting you into your place, watching you get all subby and dumb for her so quickly. the way you'll look at her to finish your words for you, or stand a little closer, almost behind her. she loves the way you lean on her mentally, making it seem as though you were incapable of doing anything without the help of your vi. then, at least, everyone would be able to grasp the fact that you were off limits.
NO, something she wouldn't do, turn offs pick this as you please, there's no kink shaming on this blog ! 🩷
ORAL, preference in giving or receiving, skill, ect vi's a giver. and she's good at what she does. she knows this, you know this, it appears as though everyone does. and this makes her awfully confident. she loves having her strong bisep holding down your hips as she licks you out, lapping you up like a dog without any shame. she loves the sound of squelching that you both unintentionally make and she relishes in it. she watches your back arch off the bed and smirks against you, her tongue embedding itself in your hole. however, if you did want to give, she wouldn't exactly have a problem with it. she'd have you lying on your back, looking up at her through your lashes as she sits herself on your face. "look so pretty under me." she'll murmur as she gets herself off on your face, her hips rolling as you did everything in your power to make her feel good, licking and lapping at her with your little kitten licks. she was so good to you, it was only fair that you gave her the same feeling back in return.
PACE, is she fast, slow, stamina, ect vi has stamina like you've never seen before. when she has her strap embedded deep inside you, it's like she can't stop. she's rough with her hands grasping your hips and thighs, squeezing the plush as she fucks herself into you over and over. vi loves edging as we know, but the night usually ends with overstimulation. and between both that and the roughness or her hands on your body, you're so fucked out and subby by the end of it that you're practically putty in her hands. vi can go many rounds all while holding her fast pace without so much of a stutter of her hips, she can withstand much more than you can with her high stamina so if you're willing to let her, she'll use you like her little toy for as long as she pleases once you're fucked out and crying into the mattress. 
QUICKIES, her opinion on them? how often? ect not the biggest fan. don't get me wrong, of course you turn vi on. sometimes, she's sitting in a restaurant with her legs folded over themselves, squeezing them together as she tries to stop thinking about it. she fails, of course. every little thing that you do, looking at her with your doe eyes, your bottom lip between your teeth, even your grabby hands at her biceps, you make her go crazy sometimes. but as badly as she wants to bend you over the bathroom counter and take you then and there, she won't. this way, she won't get to spend all her time using you, won't get to take her time when dragging your panties down your legs or edging then overstimulating you until you can't walk. but that doesn't mean she won't tease. and boy, does this girl love to tease. she'll put her hands all over your body, squeezing at your thigh or pushing them around your waist. she speaks to you in the very tone that has your face hot as rocks and whispers things in your ear. but she won't take you then and there. she'll wait, until she thinks the time is right. then, she'll make a steady exit with you in her arms, bringing you right on home. as soon as you reach home, she's making her move. and as you moan with your eyes rolled back as her hand reaches your puffy clit, she can't help but grin. "this what you wanted, hm? got you all pent up, huh? so mean." she'll mutter, ready to finally put you where she wants you.
RISK, is she game to experiment? does she take risks? usually, vi isn't one to take risks, she likes having you inside your big bedroom, everything so you as she fucks the stars out of your head. with that being said, you did still live with your parents. and sure, your walls were thick enough but sometimes, just sometimes, there may be a couple... complications. if vi is fucking you, she's not stopping. it's her rule. so, if your mother is at the door, twisting the knob and asking why your door is locked, you're trying to respond in the steadiest voice you can. "'m j-jus'- nngh- exercising, mom!" worst excuse ever but it's all you could come up with as her fingers are stuffed in your hole. "are you alright?" she'll ask hearing the noise you'd tried to keep at bay. you mentally cursed yourself. "think i-i hurt my leg, 'm fine!" she'd ask if you needed help to which you'd instant tell her no. with a strange expression, she'd walk away from your door. "such a peculiar child." or, if someone was calling you, you'd ignore it. vi though, she'd always answer her phone, no matter the situation. "yes?" her voice wil ring through the phone, despite the fact that her fingers are still pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. when the person at the other side of the phone would ask what the sound was at one of your particular whimpers, vi would smirk. "i got a dog." she'd almost laugh. "a dog?" they'd question, in confusion. "yeah, a cute little bitch." you though, were too fucked out to care.
STAMINA, how many rounds can she go for? how long does she last? like i said before, you'd never met someone with the stamina that vi had. it was truly unearthly, you thought it was slightly concerning, actually. vi threw you around like a rag dog, her big arms allowing her to do so as she fucked her strap into you, strings of curses and moans falling from her lips. it would get to the part of the night where you're just too fucked out to even say anything, babbling though you were sure they weren't even real words, the only thing you could say was one particularly short word, vi's name. it was exactly how vi wanted it, she wished for the only thing to be running through your head to be her and that pretty pink strap in your hole. vi can last long too, it's almost incredible how she can fuck at least two orgasms out of you before cumming herself. however, when she does eventually finish, she likes to make sure that you're right on the edge too so you can do it together, there's something so intimate about having her hands enveloping yours, both of you seeing nothing but white at the exact same time, your climax enveloping you.
TOYS, does she own toys? does she use them? nothing is better than coming home and having you either bouncing on her cock or laying down as she pumped it into you, getting rid of every nerve in her body. though, as much as vi adored her strap, she'd be lying if she said it were her favourite thing to use on you. vi own's a vibrator and boy does she put it to good use. she doesn't care how you take it but if that vibrator is on your clit, she's going insane. it's one of the ones with the big wand so she'll force your legs up, holding it down to your clit and cooing as your back arches. "awh, feels good, sweets?" and you'll barely be able to respond, so wrapped up in your own thoughts and pleasure as the wand vibrates against you, sending shocks through your entire body. or perhaps she's using it on you both. she's done it before where she's hovered over you, rubbing her clit against yours and just before she gets close, she decides to add a little more fun to the mix. she'll place the vibrator between you two, watching as your clit is vibrated against it, her own doing the same as she holds back her noises, her juices mixing with your own. her favourite thing about scissoring is how messy it gets so when she's given the option to put a vibrator between you two, knowing it'll only get impossibly messier, she can't not take the opportunity.
UNFAIR, how much does she like to tease? sometimes it seems as though vi knows you better than anyone else in the world, she likes to throw this around every now and then. like when your eyes flutter closed and your hole tightens against her fingers. she knows you so well, she knows that face and those strings of moans. "you close, baby?" she'll murmur against you and when you nod with a whimper, she'll take her fingers straight out of you, tongue coming down to lick the juices from it. you'll whine at the sudden loss of contact, feeling cold and empty without her long fingers to fill you up. but when she asks what's wrong, you simply can't speak, all nervous and hot. she loves this side of you and uses it to her advantage multiple times. she likes when you're shy, but she makes sure you know it won't slide with her. "what is it you want, sweetheart? gotta say it or else you won't get it." but when you're merely whining, her hand will come down to press a slap on the outer fat of your thigh. "you have words." she'll remind you while grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at her even through your glossy eyes. "use them." and when you do, you get your way as promised. as soon as you're babbling out the words about needing her fingers, her mouth, her strap, whatever it is you desire in that moment, she's pressing little kisses onto your skin. "see? wasn't so hard was it, pretty girl?"
VOLUME, how loud is she? what sounds does she make? whimpers. what? she can't help it. poor girl just wants to please you by slamming her 'cock' into your cunt over and over, repeatedly hitting exactly where you need it. but the way the base of the strap hits against her so good, she can't help the whimpers that fall from her mouth. "hmmph, cupcake, y'feel so good." she'll mumble, too fucked out to degrade you. that's when you know it's gotten her, when you know she's close. when she's too wrapped up in her own mind, dizzy and seeing stars. she's not able to get the words out to call you her filthy slut so instead, the words tumbling out of her mouth are like praises, sweet nothings even. and when she knows you're getting close too, her mouth is like a waterfall that simply refuses to stop. she'll utter and mumble things to keep herself grounded, trying to focus the attention on you and not her flaming cheeks. "so g-good f'me, angel, always so good- huuh~" trying to utter the words before being stopped with a gasp, one that shows she's just as close as you are. the spurting feeling follows soon after.
WILD CARD, random head cannon talking about herself in third person is something vi often does. whether she's alone, telling herself that everything will be fine she just has to fix it or she has you wrapped around her little finger, loving the sounds you make. your head will be looking down to her own face, sitting between your thighs, eyes trailing over the tattoo on her cheek. you'll be a whining mess, just wanting her to touch you so you can get your sweet release. her biceps will pin you down, holding you against the bed. "shh, baby, vi will make you feel good." talking about herself as if she isn't in her own body. though you have to be honest, she did hold that promise up as her head dipped further between your thighs, tongue flat against your clit and tasting you. or perhaps she has your face in the mattress, your ass up in the air as her strap fucks into you. you're whining as you squirt again and she just cant get enough of the juices flowing out of you. but you? you're mumbling and babbling incoherently about how you're making a mess. you'll be so worried about the juices falling all over your sheets and now it's getting so messy that you can't think of anything else. vi, though, to soothe your worries, merely fucks the strap so deep inside you that you can't think of anything other than her, soothing down the skin of your hips. "shh, sweetheart, vi'll clean up the mess either." reassuring you like the sweet girl she is.
X-RAY, what's going on underneath them clothes? a bright pink strap. she loves the strap as it goes with her outfits, and her hair and everything else belonging to you. she loves having you bounce on it, whining about how you can't take it anymore but vi won't let you get out that easily. she's telling you to keep going or if she can truly see the exhaustion in your eyes, her hands are finding way to your hips, bouncing you up and down so you don't have to do any of the work. the last thing she needs is her princess getting too tired before she can finish with her. you also go slightly feral over her boobs. perhaps she's laying on her side, your legs propped up with rope she's bound against your body and you're just writhing. she has the vibrator sat pretty against your puffy clit. you're whining and whimpering, not able to keep still and before you know it, your lips are on her boobs. she's trying to contain her sounds, trying to hold the vibrator upright while your tongue swirls around her nipples. you can't get enough, just needing your mouth on something and the way her boobs feel snug between your lips, your warm drool falling all over the milky skin. you just can't contain yourself as you feel yourself approaching yet another orgasm. but this time, vi's too focused on the way your lips feel against her boobs to have any power left in her to tell you not to come.
YEARNING, how high is her sex drive? sometimes, vi can't take the way you are around her. especially in public. the way you're grabbing at her or standing close yet a little behind her when interacting with other people. she just loves it so much that she's sure she could dick you down then and there. but, as said before, she lets the tension build up until you both break. but that doesn't mean she doesn't get horny quickly. my god, this girl cannot for the life of herself go through one day without feeling a wet splotch form in her boxers. then, she blames you. perhaps it was because you'd bent over once to pick something up or you had your hands behind your back and she'd imagined tying them that way. you'd always just stare up at her and ask her when she'd take accountability for merely being horny. she'd shrug her shoulders, telling you never. and you'd believe it.
ZZZ, how quickly does she fall asleep afterwards? vi just has unlimited energy, it seems. when you guys are finished, she wants to make sure that you know you're safe, at home, with her. the sheets will be slightly messy but oh well, that's a tomorrow problem. Her main goal is to make sure you're okay. she'll place the wet rag where you need it, washing you off with the energy that she still has. then, you finally find yourself in her arms, her skin hot against your skin but thankfully the cold sheets offer a little relief. vi will talk to you while she's still awake, about anything and everything. just because she knows you like falling asleep to the sound of her voice and god knows she has enough energy to keep talking. "really?" you'll babble, all tired as your eyes are screwed shut. she's telling you random facts and stories that you've probably already heard before. yet every time, you seemed more impressed. "really, baby." and she'll only stop talking when she asks if you're still listening and receives no response. she knows you're sleeping so she tries to stay as still as she can while playing with your hair strands between her fingers, smiling softly at how good you were for her. she still has energy so she'll lay awake for a while but she won't leave, fearing you'll wake up and she wont be there. she wants you to know that she will be there, always. 
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main masterlist/vi's masterlist
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etoilesvv · 6 months
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vi arcane x fem!reader (nsfw 18+)
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“just like that, baby.”
violet murmured against your ear, her breath brushing against your neck. her hands gripped your hips, calloused fingers digging into the flesh. thighs on either side of her waist, you straddled her as she was laid back on your shared bed, propped up on her elbows.
“i-i can’t…i can’t…” you panted out, brows furrowed in pleasure. your cunt slid down her strap, leaving a thick white ring as you rode her cock.
“can’t what, baby?” vi cooed, a strong juxtaposition to the obscene act you two were engaging in. she jolted her hips up into you as she spoke, just to see the way your eyes rolled back when she hit that perfect spot.
“can’t take it—mngh…” a whine escaped your lips and you threw your head back, mouth agape in an ‘o’. it felt so good. too good. your bounces became sloppy, legs becoming weaker.
“yes, you can. i know you can.” vi muttered, before her hands gripped a tighter hold on your hips. she lifted you up, then slammed you back down on her dick. you let out a scream of a moan, and could’ve sworn her tip kissed your cervix.
vi met you halfway with her own thrusts, fucking up into you like a ragdoll. the pain in your legs faded so all you could focus on was the familiar coiling in your stomach.
your increase in drawn-out moans and arching of your back didn’t go unnoticed by your partner. she knew your body inside and out. that’s why she moved one of her hands off your hip and to your clit. her thumb rubbed rough circles on your sensitive nub, the veins popping in her tattooed forearms.
“v-vi, i’m gonna—” you began, getting cut off when your orgasm hit you like a train. your legs trembled as your back arched as far as it could, crying out ‘violet’.
“be a good girl and— yeah, that’s it, cum on my dick, beautiful.” was growled in your ear as your juices ran down the thick shaft of the strap.
you came down from your high and panted in exhaustion, body going limp on top of vi. she ran a hand through your hair, still inside you, with no complaints, though.
she kissed your earlobe before whispering, “wanna go again?” you could hear the grin clear in her voice.
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janearts · 2 months
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TL;DR: Roisia still doesn't think of any gods outside of Kelemvor. If she holds any other gods in contempt, it's a fleeting feeling because her thoughts of other gods are just as impermanent. More detailed analysis under the read-more.
***
Roisia's role as her mother's successor (and therefore a future Cleric of Kelemvor) meant that she was devoted to Kelemvor from a young age. So although Roisia wasn't ignorant of the other gods in the Faerûnian pantheon, she didn't spare them a second thought. Why would she? Kelemvor was front and centre to everything she was, everything she wanted to be.
I'm not sure if I've ever talked about the way that Roisia has some degree of emotional and cognitive dissonance when it comes to her faith and her career as a Necromancer. When Roisia raised her father from the dead and then doubled down on her pursuit of Necromancy, she effectively broke from Kelemvor, destroyed her Clerical future, and became godless. But she's still someone who prays to Kelemvor like he'll have an ear out for her. There's still something that remains comforting about the habit of worshipping Kelemvor, even though, when she thinks about it, she knows that her god would despise her for what she does and continues to do with abandon (raise the dead and bend the rules around death).
Roisia is effectively godless—a dangerous thing to be in this dangerous world when she knows that Kelemvor, the god whose tenets she broke, judges souls. But Roisia has had a hard time committing to another god in the pantheon. It somehow, still feels wrong to her. Much like picking a life partner, , Roisia just can't seem to select one and commit.
If she were, like she did for her "#4"s, write down her options, it would look something like this:
Bane: Talked to her. Said she was already of his ilk. A possibility.
Deneir: Scholarly and arcane. But what if she didn't want to just record knowledge, but practise it?
Jergal: If desperate. [FYI: Not 100% sure Roisia would've puzzled Withers out. Roisia would likely believe them to be a high-ranking priest of Jergal.]
Leira: Possibly, provided one has a sense of humour. (After all, in a sense, much of Roisia's life is a lie!)
Myrkul: Probably the most sensible choice of the lot. Still wants to cremate his bones for funsies for snubbing her.
Mystra: Also a practical choice, although considering Gale's history with the goddess, not Roisia's first choice.
Tymora: Again, if one has a sense of humour. (Because Roisia is, in a sense, gambling with her very soul.)
Waukeen: Once more, if one has a sense of humour, because Roisia still wants to have a thriving funerary business while also raising the dead in her own backyard graveyard.
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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months
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I’ve been stuck on this idea. Jinx reader with the batfam…I know you had it in your master list and I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Maybe when the reader was little, they doodled and made little trinkets like powder. So I’m thinking that the reader doodled on batmans tools. Kinda like how powder/jinx made their weapons with faces on them.
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So maybe Batman and the rest of the boys were gone and reader snuck into the bar cave and started doodling on their masks and weapons.
And just another thought 😅
When reader is older, they become a vigilante, causing chaos for the fun of it but also doing it for good. They also move out when they were a kid, because maybe Batman called then a jinx (I’m really going for the arcane storyline 😭😭😭)
Maybe the batfam tries to bring her back, but she just kinda runs away laughing while throwing glitter bombs 😭😭😭
Just something I thought of
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I don’t usually write reader as childhood friends with the guys here unless it’s cat villain (which is more like childhood rivals) so this is quite the change.
In my og storyline which i have semi spoiled and will spoil some more here : Jason and Jinx! Reader were part of a found family and Jason having a massive crush on reader gave them tools to make explosives they really shouldnt have. Which is kind of poetic knowing how he ‘dies’.
I’m not sure if this ask is platonic or romantic so I’ll just go with my preference, the latter.
this is just a little snippet since i started working on jinx reader again huhu wanna save the juicy stuff for that one
Jinx! Reader was known as the runt of the litter among Bruce’s adopted children. Physically weak, above average in smarts but nothing compared to the rest. The only thing they had going for them was their skill with firearms which Bruce heavily discouraged and admonished the practice of.
Jason and you bonded with rebelling against him. He’d often bring you out to abandoned arcades that you two would repair from scraps you found in the Batcave. Dude was down atrocious. He kept bringing you to missions purely because he couldn’t resist your face. Sure he was snarky at times, but your common upbringing made him more soft around you. (Sometimes he purposely puts you in situations where you’d get caught just so he can ‘save’ you. The way you hold unto him for dear life is…simply exhilarating)
But try as he might, he could never fill the hole you had in your heart. Your desire for a complete family. For validation. For Bruce to finally acknowledge your worth. For Damian to stop calling you a fucking waste of space.
You ended up screwing a mission so badly that you indirectly killed dozens of Gotham citizens.
Usually you would just compromise their positions during patrols but this was… this was something irreversible. Something that affected friends, families, actual living breathing people.
Bruce had a tight cap on his emotions, but he just couldn’t stop himself from taking out his anger, grief and frustration out on you.
Dick and Jason managed to pull him back before he could hurt you beyond a punch to the face, but the psychological damage had already been cemented.
You run away, running into Harley Quinn.
But instead of following the path my og jinx reader did, Joker wasn’t there to fuck with your head even further. So you sought to repay for your sins.
Still, the screams. The way Bruce called you useless, a jinx. The memories of being neglected and inferior.
Sometimes chaos was the only way to make it shut up.
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magicalgoblinz · 8 months
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One Thing
Summary: You did it. Cazador's dead and now... Astarion is finding himself working through some big emotions. Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Word Count: 3.5 k Warnings: General angst, eluding to physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. Possibly ooc Astarion. Quickly edited. Song Recommendation: Never Let Me Go + Florence and the Machine Author's Note: First thing I've ever written for Astarion but I get the feeling it won't be the last. I really genuinely just wanted to get this idea out of my brain even if it's a bit strange and not all that amazing haha.
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It had been a long day. Perhaps one of the longest you and your party had endured yet, or... at least it felt that way. It wasn't hard on your body like the goblin fight had been, nor had it been arcanely exhaustive like chasing that damned hag was. No, standing in the halls of Cazador's palace brought a different type of exhaustion. Passing through the spaces that your lover had once stalked attempting to go unseen by his master, seeing the sights of the spaces he was kept, smelling the decay, the putridness that no doubt lingered in the meals he was forced to partake in.
Every sight, smell, and sound you had come across weighed heavily on you. Even now as you sat in the plush comfort that was Elfsong Inn, freshly washed, the scents lingered in your nose and left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You pushed around the hastily prepared hash in your bowl, frown bared for everyone to see. Your thoughts were only for him. Every second of silence you could hear his sobs in that moment. The cries pulled from his very core, the kind of cries you could imagine he had dreamed of releasing for so long through every moment of torture he was subjected to. There was no way to imagine all of the atrocities he had suffered, yet somehow being left with nothing made every idea that flitted past your mind's eye so much worse.
You for so long had wished to weep for him. Weep for the time he had lost. Weep for the pain he must have felt in having to stand on the outside wondering if his family and friends ever thought of him again after he passed on. Weep for the crushed hopes for the future he had at one time had.
But what good would your tears do him now?
Cazador was dead.
And more importantly... Astarion was free.
So why did it all still feel so... excruciatingly heavy?
"Ts'ka --- eat and do not play. You need your strength for tomorrow." Lae'zel pushed from her lounging position on the floor.
"Have some heart, Lae'zel. It’s been a very difficult day." Wyll was quick to defend upon seeing the way your expression soured at the thought of eating. "Y/n, had to assist our resident vampire through some very hard things today. Including walking through where he had been kept prisoner. Imagine having to do the same with your lover." He said with a gesture towards Lae'zel.
"If I had a lover they would be able to care for themselves; it would be the first thing I looked for in a mate. A prowess to stay alive in battle like my own is the only thing that is truly attractive." Lae'zel said with a lifted chin.
Wyll's lips parted as if to say something more but began to shake his head, there was no fighting with La'zel. She didn't dig her heels in when it came to opinions, no her entire feet were buried. "Speaking of Astarion, where is he?" He eventually asked, changing the focus of the conversation.
"I believe he went for a bath." Shadowheart interjected, "He said something about not being able to stand having his beauty mired... you know how he is." She said, not lifting her eyes from her bowl with a small wave of her spoon that was held in delicate fingers.
Her saying this seemed to pull your eyes towards the door of the wash room. It had been a while since he left now that you thought about it. Your brows lowered a bit in thought; Astarion deserved his space right now, but you still couldn't help but want to hold his hand and not let it go after everything that had happened today. Maybe he wouldn't want that though, not with what you did today.
That look in his eyes...
Now that he had the time to actually think about what you did, what you talked him into doing; would he feel betrayed?
You had promised him you'd help him get that power he so desired, but when that chance came you changed your mind.
The idea of Astarion no longer trusting you hurt more than imagining him ending whatever it was the two of you had. The worries made your expression sullen even more, looking down at your bowl with a deeper pit growing in your stomach. Did you really want to find out?
Out of the blue, there is a light nudge to your arm. The little touch is enough to pull you back up from your descent into grieving something you hadn't even lost yet. With a glance to your right you find Karlach with a bottle outstretched to you. "I think we could all use a little drink tonight... but especially Astarion." She said warmly, "Perhaps you should see if he wants some?" She continued with a little jerk of her head towards the closed doors. Her tone made it all to clear that your inner turmoil was written out on your face for everyone to see.
A sigh escaped your throat as you debated on whether or not that was a good idea but the way Karlach began to lazily swing the bottle back and forth with her hand triggered something in your mind that made you reach out and take it in one smooth movement.
It couldn't hurt to check in on him?
Could it?
Astarion's head was rested back, hanging over the edge of the bath he sat in. The water had lost the majority of its warmth, and his hand had pruned but he made no movements to get out. Eyes transfixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace at the side of the room. Every twist of orange and lift of a spark made his mind lurch through another memory; they all seemed to be coming back to him now, one by one. His mind shuddered from the thought of a blade pressed into his skin, carving, etching, his skin becoming the canvas for a dastardly design that he wouldn't understand for years.
Funnily, the recollection of pain wasn't what bothered him. It was having to recall his own voice struggling not to escape his lips throughout the entire gut-wrenching experience that made his hand ball into a fist.
With a pop and crackle of the wood Astarion's memories would carry on to something else.
His ears ringing, echoing the silence of that tomb. Gods above that tomb. That year spent in silence. Those months spent starving. The way his hands bled from trying ever so desperately to escape. Over what...? A boy that he couldn't bear to steal the life away from.
Astarion took in a sharp breath as he tried to shake away the thought, as he sat up.
But still the memories continued to bleed through. The faces of all those people he had brought to Cazador, he could see them in his mind's eye. The memories of bedding some of them, cycling through his head in a complete sequence even though they were spread across centuries. A flash of a young human woman who excitedly spun in a brand new red dress that she was ever so excited to show off. The pale blue of a nervous elf man's eyes as they darted around the room the second Astarion approached. Seeing the tattoos and the scars spread across the back of a dwarven sailor who stretched after returning to the mainland after a long voyage. The shine of a coy tiefling woman's smile as she attempted to steal his coin purse from his pocket. So many lives, so many people. At what point did he begin to stop caring? Who was it that he pulled by the wrist back to a dreary room that made him start drifting away any time he had to become intimate? Or was it any of them at all?
His features twisted into an expression of disgust the second his mind started going down that path. There was no amount of Cazador being dead that made those memories better. In a snap his balled up hands lifted to rub his eyes in annoyance. If only Astarion could wash out his eyes and his mind and start anew. If only.
And to think... he had wanted this for so long.
He had dreamt about the day he'd be able to have the cathartic feeling of stabbing Cazador, again, and again, and again. And now that it had come and gone... he wished he could have kept going forever. Fuck, he wished he had. After everything Cazador had done to him, the bastard deserved so much worse than to bleed out on that cold floor. He deserved to suffer just as much as Astarion had, if not more.
Astarion couldn't help but wish that he had ignored everyone and continued the ritual as a perfect slap in the face to Cazador. Continued that ritual, so for the first time in all these years... he'd be safe. Entirely safe. And the loss of that made his chest ache, he was so close to crying all over again.
But then...
Tap, tap, tap
"Astarion," Your voice started from just beyond the doors. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just um... wanted to check in. Karlach thought you might need a drink."
There was you.
Astarion's head lifted from his hands as he took in a deep breath. He tried to shove all those emotions back down again, to put the cork back in the bottle before they could really bleed out into him properly. His gaze lingering on the door, lips unmoving.
"Didn't you hear him? If you complete the ritual, you'll be consumed, Astarion." You had said with a look of sincere terror in your eyes. The look wasn't foreign to him... but perhaps different? People had been scared of him before, oh people had been terrified once they realized what he was. But just how many people had been scared for him? That... he didn't know.
He couldn't remember his exact words in reply now, the tension and adrenaline leaving them in a silent part of his mind but what he did recall was the way you looked at him. It stung. It stung so much more than the little voice in the back of his mind screaming that you were breaking your promise.
You promised to help him ascend. You swore you would help him ascend. You said---
Gods that look. Astarion couldn’t shake it.
The way your eyes seemed to plead with him before you had even opened your mouth. Begging him to reconsider. "I know you think this will set you free, but it won't." Your voice was so gentle, but still so desperate. "This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador. Is that really what you want?"
You were right, as much as he hated it. You were always right.
But more than that. As he thought about it now, he recognized something that he hadn't in that moment...
Just outside the door you stood listening, hoping to hear something, anything. Your thumb fumbled with the cork of the bottle nervously. This was a bad idea wasn't it? He needed more time. This was too soon to try and come see him. Gods... what if he really did hate you for what you did. You started to shake your head, "...I'm going to take that as a no. I'll um..." you started lightly, trying not to have your worry show through in your words. "I'm sorry again for interrupting. I'll see you when you're finished, my darling."
Once more. You wanted to call him that one more time before he had a chance to break things off.
"Come in."
Your eyes couldn't help but widen ever so slightly, hand moving to the handle before cautiously pushing the door open and poking your head in. From this angle you could see Astarion's side profile, the good majority of the grime and blood from the day having been washed away, though his clothes that sat off to the side on a bench, were stained a deep red that would take ages to remove, if it ever came out at all. His eyes soon looked your way tiredly. As an instinct you quickly held up the bottle you had brought him, no words coming to follow it, they all seemed to have gone into hiding the second his eyes landed on you.
"Are you planning on bringing the bottle here my sweet, or to just... swing it around like an idiot?" He asked in a long drawn out way, a tone that felt like he was trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for you, but at this point in your adventure together the look in his eyes was more than enough to tell you that he was working through something.
You were entirely taken aback by the gentle name used, a little bit of relief seeping into your chest. "Y-you want me to come in?"
"Was that not what I said?"
Your lips parted, deciding not to speak just yet and instead closing the door behind you. "I'm sorry... I just didn't want to overstep with you, you know… washing and all." You said slowly, acting as if you weren’t both adults – who had on more than occasion – slept together.
Even now, even after seeing him at his lowest today, you were still trying to respect whatever boundaries he had. The thought made Astarion close his eyes and let out a soft laugh, "Darling, you've seen me naked before, it's fine." He assured, "Now...please, for the love of gore and everything soaked in blood, can you bring me that bottle."
There was no reluctance now, carrying yourself to his side with ease. As you approached you couldn't help but notice that his hair was still matted thick with blood in places. All this time he clearly had just been lost in his thoughts as much as you expected really. His hand reached up the second you drew near, taking the bottle from your hands greedily, popping the cork and taking a decidedly long drink. Not minding you at all as you reluctantly found a seat on the bench his clothes were rested upon.
The sight of his nose scrunching a bit from the taste of the wine made an ever so small smile tug at the corner of your mouth. It was hard not to recall him making that same face at the tiefling party not so long ago. Vinegar for wine. Would there be a day when the wine you brought him didn't elicit that involuntary response?
Astarion glanced at you from the corner of his eye, "You'd have made an excellent vampire, you know." He said with an amused little grin, all happy to see the confusion cover your features.
"Why is that?"
"Asking to come in, obviously." He joked loosely,
A small laugh left your lips as your eyes drifted to the floor, "I didn't realize that respecting people's privacy was so vampiresque."
"It's not, we're atrociously nosey by nature and well... it's just another fun hindrance to go against that nature I suppose." Astarion spoke in his normal moseying draw. 
"I see..."
There was a breadth of silence between the two of you. A silence that carried the heaviness of the day's events. You knew it needed to be said, but it didn't make it any easier to consider what the exact words were that needed saying. How to broach it? What if he didn’t want to talk about it at all and you misread the situation entirely? You kept glancing his way hoping to have it all come together in your mind like some sort of epiphany, yet he beat you to it.
"I'm not upset with you, darling. You don't have to keep looking at me like that." Astarion spoke suddenly with all the ease in the world.
"You're not?"
"Well,  perhaps I was a little at first. You did go back on your word, after all." Astarion pointed out, eyes now fixed on the bottle in his hand. “I think anyone might be a bit… sour after something like that.”
There was the guilt again. "Astarion... I'm sorry, I---"
"I don't want your apologies." He cut in sharply, finally turning his gaze to look your way.  Despite what his tone may have indicated, his eyes weren't as stern as they normally appeared when he was upset. No, they were instead ever so full of sadness.  "...I-I'm not angry with you. I swear it. But what I don't understand is why I don't feel any fucking better." Astarion said as his voice suddenly sounded so much more fragile. "I... I killed him. I got the revenge I've dreamed about for two-hundred fucking years. The same revenge I begged for the whole year I was locked in that horrid tomb." He hissed, "I took back my life and yet I... I feel like I didn't do enough."
He was cracking. That much you could see.
"I can't help but wonder if I had completed the ceremony if that would have been enough. Enough to rub it in his Gods damned face that I did it." Astarion admitted sternly, lifting his chin as his eyes stayed focused on the bottle still, "Watch this worm take away everything from him like he took everything from me." He mumbled out, the heat leaving his voice for a brief second as all that he was left with was glassy eyes.
"...I-I would have never had to fear anyone or anything ever again..." Astarion uttered through clenched teeth, tears finally breaking free and running down his cheeks one at a time. "...and now it's gone."
Wordlessly you got to your feet, taking a few steps forward to close the gap between you both, leaning down to wrap your arms around his neck in the most comforting hug you could possibly muster. His hand immediately finds your arm, holding it tight as for the second time in your journey, he begins to cry.
Silence seems to be what Astarion needed from you, wailing into the open air as everything he has stuffed away into that bottle comes pouring back out. No apologies. No consoling words. Just for you to hold him, to give him time. His head rests against yours almost as if to ensure that even now, after everything you both had been through, you couldn't see him cry. Perhaps the idea of you seeing it happen twice in a day was too much for him. Or perhaps there was still a festering feeling of weakness that would bubble up if he let you see him cry.
"Oh my sweet, sweet, Astarion." You mumbled holding him tighter than before, listening as his sobs grew softer over the passing moments. 
Waiting. Listening.
Once his frame had stopped shaking you finally raised your voice once more . "...if I could Astarion, I would take away all of the hurt in an instant... but I can't. And I wish you knew just how much it pains me to not be able to." You speak, parting your lips to continue on but pause as you feel a familiar shudder resonate through your mind. He was peering in, confirming the statement for himself it seemed. "The most I can do is promise you something..." you continued on, pretending like you weren't aware of poking around, you had nothing to hide for one key reason…
Gently you pulled back, running your hand from his neck to his chin to tilt his head up. Eyes looking over his tear stained cheeks and then to meet his own shimmering red eyes. "I promise you that, as long as I'm here you will never have to fear anything... or anyone again." You assured, thumbs brushing over his cheeks as you wipe away his remaining tears. “Because Astarion… I love you and… I will never let you go.”
The look that fills Astarion's eyes is something that you had only seen once before when you decided to hug him for the first time back in the Shadowlands. It was a look that spoke numbers towards just how frightening the unknown was for him. How terrifying it could be to have someone love you so truly and want nothing in return for the first time in his life.
You feel a rush of surprise followed by so overwhelming, your lips curl into the same smile you gave him then as you had reached out to wrap your arms around him to hold him tight…
You know the feeling even if he can’t say it yet.
Love.
Because that was the thing. Astarion had realized before this that you… well, you were the only good thing that he’s ever had. That he’d do just about anything to keep you safe and ensure that no one dare take you away from him. Yet, strangely he never once considered…
That he might mean just that much to you.
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End Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I'd really love to start writing for Astarion more so if you have any ideas send them over <3
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grapenamjams · 6 months
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Better Than A Dream
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Genre: NSFW
Characters: Muriel from the arcane & Reader
Contains: soft mdom, mention of wet dream, oral m. Receiving, Dirty talk, cock warming,
A/n: welcome to grape’s annual Muriel smut one shot post. Will there be one next year? The world may never know!
You feel the bed shift more than once in the span of a few minutes stirring you awake. With half eyes open you notice the sliver of moonlight passing through the curtains. letting you know that it was a little pass midnight.
It was the sigh that made you fully turn towards a clearly vexed Muriel beside you, running a hand down his face. His exposed chest goes up and down in shaky breaths , his skin flushed. “Muriel?” he starts at the sound of your voice in the quite room. You apologies noticing his reaction. “Are you alright?” You ask softly. You don’t move closer even when you want to, not knowing if it’s okay to touch him, wanting to give him space.
He nodes but he dosnt look at you. “I’m sorry that I woke you. ” you shake your head, “it’s alright” You wish you could say that waking up to Muriel tossing and turning at night was rare but unfortunately this was the case ever so often. Memories of the past thought to be forgotten resurfacing, playing out in his dreams where he is supposed to be the safest. Causing him to stir like this, hold you closer to him or at times leaving the bed completely until you go find him when you feel his abesnace.
“Was it a nightmare again?” You watch his face as he sucks in a breath, eyes landing on one of the hanging crystals by the wall catching the moonlight. After a moment he shakes his head. You feel a slight relief, reaching a hand towards him rubbing his arm. He clears his throat “It was- it was nothing.” He turns to his side towards you but his eyes are still not meeting yours. “It’s late you should go back to sleep” you frown at his dismissal even though he can’t see it. Clearly something is bothering him.
“are you sure? you were tossing and turning for awhile” your fingers brush through his dark hair. Shifting closer to him, your hand continuing the motion hoping to relax him. Although you couldn’t have seen his throat bob and hear his heartbeat quicken.
“I’m sure.” He states. However when he takes in a breath, breathing in your familiar scent. words escape him in a groan like whisper. “Just a selfish dream”
You don’t miss the lowered words. “A selfish dream?” You questioned. Muriel only nodes his head after a moment,closing his eyes hoping for You to follow his lead into returning to sleep. but Your curiosity still Persists. “Was it good or bad?” Muriel’s hand reaches out to your waist, letting out a breath. You would have taken it a sign to stop after he was quiet for a moment but to your amusement he replied. “Good…really good” his thumb rubs your side.
Good? You think, confused Then why doesn’t he want to- his hand pulls you closer. Oh… all other thoughts fade at the feel of his body against yours.
You bite your lip suppressing a smile. “Muriel?” You say, hand pushing back hair that had fallen forward.
“Hm?” He breathes You again unknowingly where your brain has wondered too.
Sensing his reaction you lean away from his face. “Did you have a wet dream?” His eyes fly open and the blush is blooming on his face just as quickly. “What? N-no I…that’s…” his eyes go over your face. “why do you think that?” He stammers. you move your hips into him feeling him very presently against you.
You are unsure how he is able to get redder especially with the limited visibility that the moon provides. Muriel groans, rolling onto his back and places an arm over his eyes trying to cover himself wishing for the bed to swallow him into the covers.
You find it adorable and enjoyable that the man beside you, no matter how many times he takes you making each other feel all sorts of pleasures. Still gets easily flustered when it comes to talking about desires and intimacy. And because of that, you loved to tease him.
“I-I’m sorry…I don’t know why-“ Muriel started to apologize for the predicament he put you in. But you cut him off before his brain runs off with an idea that is untrue.
“Tell me was it about me?” You say, resting your head on your hand being able to look down at him.
Muriel starts, taken aback at what you said as if he could not believe you would hold the idea that he would be able to think of another person that was not you. “What? Of course it was.. who else…” his eyes narrow and look away from you “you’re teasing me, arnt you?”
You let out a giggle “just a bit, I can’t help it.” He grumbles rolling his eyes at you. You give him a kiss feeling his flushed cheek. “What was I doing in your dream?” You continued. your own body warmed with the ideas forming in your head.
His eyes look back at you, taking in your face as if he thought he didn’t hear you right. “Y-you want to know?” You give him a playful smile and node. this was a first for Muriel and as much as you protected his comfortability you always liked nudging him out of his comfort zone. His Adam able bobs “uh…you…” his gaze shifts away from You again.
You hum, “was I kissing you? Like this” your lips run along his jaw and down the side of his neck. “Y-yes” he sighs. You shift your body placing a arm on the other side of his face. Giving you more access to his neck. Kissing the hollow of his neck “Say it” your words land on his skin. he lets out a breath. “You were kissing me…my neck- just like that” his voice hitches as you suck on his sweet spot. Again your lips go over his neck and throat until you pull away looking down at him waiting for his next words. “my mouth” his eyes open to meet yours above him. A shy smile tilts at his lips and you never want to forget the image of him smiling up at you like this.
his largehand cups your face guiding you towards him until your lips meet. Muriel breathes you in. his lips greeting yours gently as he always does making you feel loved and cared for. But as always there is a point where his kisses become deeper and hungrier. Moans escaping each other.
bodies pressed and slightly moving against each other. You’re breathless when you ask “what else?” The forest color of his eyes were just rimming the edges of his darkened eyes. A contrast to his flushed face. “my body” he lets out and you were not needed to be told twice. Your mouth already leaving lingering kisses on his chest. His breathes becoming quicker his voice breathy each time he instructs you to go lower and lower. Kissing each scar knowing where they are on him. Leaving marks on His toned stomach.
When you reach the band of his undergarments. His need was visibly pressed against the fabric and you felt your own need pulse through your body. You kissed his thigh and looked up at him. His gaze landed on yours and he nodded. You take his signal and remove the covering. He was painfully hard, precum already dripping down the vein. Muriel sucks in a breath finally being free of his constraints. Making your mouth water.
You rub his hip and kiss next to the base and ever so lightly pressing your lips up his cock. “What did I do next?” You ask teasingly looking up at him. Muriel’s hand surprisingly lands on the back of your head. His gaze looking at you between his legs having him suppress a moan at the sight but his dick twitches giving him away. Yet his voice comes out deep and clear, traces of his shyness gone. “you used that teasing mouth to suck me off” his words land on your ears before Muriel guides your mouth to take him.
He curses above you as you moan around his head,licking around it. sending shocks through him which makes his hips buck the last of him into your mouth. you hollow your cheeks as you let him move your head to a pace he wanted which was still mindful of you even in his pleasured state. As your own hand worked on the rest of him. “Yes, just like that” he groans.
You worked on him as best as you could as he moved you to his pleasure. Flattening your tongue having his clock glide in and out against. The your tongue rubbing that sensitive spot under the tip. All of this has his head digging deeper into the pillow and the grip on your hair tightening . “This is” he groans looking down at the sight before him. “much better than a dream” your eyes land on his and it makes his body tighten with more arousal then he thought he could have. The sight that you had also made you throb, a coat of sweat on his skin and his heaving chest caused you to moan wanting to see him come undone. he continues to follow his pleasure.
Yeses and praises falling from his mumbled lips. Just when you thought he was close to going over the edge, his hand stops and gently pulls you away from him. Giving him a sight of you as a drooling mess. Making The words “turn over on your hands and knees” not get out fast enough. His desire reaching that point where he needed to be inside of you, to feel all of you. Smiling you do as told not being able to form a reply because along with Muriel you just needed him inside you as fast as possible.
“A good listener” his deep voice sends a jolt down your spine as his large frame covers you. Earning him a moan “Muriel please, i need you” His lips kiss your exposed neck and shoulder while his hands remove your underwear. “I’m yours” he states wasting no time he starts pushing himself into you causing you both to moan at the sensation that never ceases to consume you both “all yours” he groans when he fully sinks into you. Giving you time to adjust to him, your walls stretch around the thickness of him. Your head lands on the mattress. Hips moving back with a whine, having Muriel take it as sign that he can began thrusting.
His movements begin slow till he almost pulls out fully and thrusts back in, wanting to feel the real you not his imagination, not how you feel in a dream. every inch, clench, throb and the warmth of you. One hand lands on your hip while the other one goes down your back keeping you with your head down. His pace picks up until you both are lost in pleasure and your sounds fill up the dark room. Every thrust sends jolts through you as he hits the spot that sends you closer to the edge each time.
After a moment your on your hands again and his chest is pressed against your back, covering you with his body. Your only thought his of him, everything about him consumes you as he keeps thrusting into you and pants next to your ear. Making you clench around him. The sensation pooling in your core increases when Muriel bites your shoulder muffling his moan against you.
He straightens up again hands on your hips, his breath increasing. “I’m gonna-“ he curses again “me too” You gasp Your hips move back against him and he lets you fuck yourself against him. “You’re perfect…. so so perfect” he says breathlessly “let go, please I want to feel you come around me” in a voice deep and pleading that causes you to go over the edge for him each time. With his name on your lips. he stills your hips against him, and you feel his hot release inside you. His own hips resuming his sloppy thrusts, Ridding both of your highs with moans and breaths becoming tangled. “take all of it” he moans.
After a moment when your hearts have calmed down. He slips out of you, both feeling the absence of the other. He pecks your back and cheek. “Come here” he coaxes.
Turning, you see him lay down head on his pillow. He then positions you, so you were to straddling him. Looking up at you with a blissed look that You have committed to memeory and often appears in your own dreams. “Are you okay?” He never fails to ask, pushing some of your hair back behind your ears. you node. “Always” you say kissing him. He sighs into you. You pull away with a playful grin.
“I do have to say, Your dream was quite an eventful one” as if on cue pink blooms across his already flushed face. Making you laugh.
His gaze meets yours again before looking down your body. Following your curves up again, humming. “It’s not over yet” you tilt your head questioning his words. It’s now Muriel that has a grin on his face. Lifting you up slightly he slips himself inside you again with a moan. His hands glide over your thighs, hips and waist continuing dragging his hands up your sides taking off your shirt. Forest Eyes taking you in fully under the moonlight. Making you feel loved, desired, admired, protected all at once. His hands don’t stop until they reached your face drawing you in for a gentle kiss keeping himself inside you having every inch of you against him, keeping him warm. “There. My dream is now complete.”
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chaoskid-deer · 8 months
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today’s episode has so many GREAT (heartbreaking) moments but one thing that really struck me was how Seward is doing. He uses a lot of clinical language that could easily be interpreted as him being more emotionally removed but jonny sims’ performance makes me think how much of that is a coping mechanism to try desperately to keep it together so he can do his job as Lucy’s doctor, as well as how much he is straight up UNABLE to process his own feelings.
Especially during the part where he’s comforting Arthur, and talking a lot about Masculine Grief, it doesn’t feel like someone trying to assert how tough and manly they are, it feels more like he’s grasping at straws trying to figure out how to comfort his friend and trying to justify that him mostly just standing there holding Arthur was Ok and A Good Job. Arthur is telling him that he doesn’t know what he has to live for, and as we know from Seward’s opening lines, Seward doesn’t know either!!! He’s basically standing there wanting to die listening to the strongest, best man he knows ask him how he’s supposed to go on and has NOTHING to give Arthur. But for some reason just holding him and crying together seemed ok? So maybe he did something right? Must have been because Arthur is so Manly and Perfect that he didn’t need a lot of comfort to pull through. (Oh Seward, it’s because you’re his BEST FRIEND and you’ve been there for him at great personal cost this whole time, give yourself some credit)
This ties in to a lot of @see-arcane ‘s excellent analysis of how Seward likes to hold up his friends as Better People than him, and take cues about how to act from them, and uses performing masculinity and clinical distance as a crutch because he thinks there’s something inherently wrong with him that he’s afraid of.
And right now, he doesn’t even have the time to process his own feelings. Lucy has died, and on top of grieving the woman he loves, he also feels as though he’s failed her as her doctor. But Arthur need support and is busy with his fathers death, Lucy has no nearby relatives, van helsing is busy with his own mysterious quest, and all of the administrative work of death still needs to be handled by someone.
Arthur gets to lay his head against the sofa and pray. Van Helsing gets to beat his palms and sob. But for Seward, there is work to be done, and he won’t let himself break down until it’s done. And his work is never done.
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