#the fearsome four of pain
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#the fearsome four of pain#I guess the sleep one isn’t pain#but I mean#I’ve been painfully eepy before#this is for all those physically disabled slays out there#my body hates me#being in pain all the time makes you hot actually#it’s character development#rise!tmnt#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt meme
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“Persuade Me,” Ascended Astarion tells you, a sub!Astarion, all tied up for you in “The Rogue You Were”
Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.9K persuasive dom/sub bdsm smut
Summary: He’s so terribly stubborn, it will take a lot of persuasion to get him to come around. All tied up, it should be easy, but no matter how *hard* it is, it will be… delicious for you both…
CW: bondage, sub!Astarion, tender confessions, possessive and stubborn Ascended behavior, persuasive bedroom techniques so effective, he tells you the reason he can’t let you out of his sight, why you are not just… some… spawn…
Based on “Just A Drop🩸”
Read on AO3 | Astarion fic Masterlist
How will you persuade him…
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen Lord Astarion all morning,” you give your most convincing look of worry, of concern and confusion. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, painted lips pouting as you close your dressing gown tightly around your body. “Perhaps try the grounds? Everyone knows he enjoys a good stroll in the dawn…”
And with that you shut the door in the poor trembling servants face. A brief flash of relief on their fearful countenance that dismissing them and shutting the door on them was the worst you did. You hear their poor feet skitter away. And then, you turn with a deep, contented breath to view the sight stretched in your bed.
Yours. And his.
He’s waiting. Patiently. Spread wide and tethered to the four posts of your bed frame, and most of all, your mouth waters to see that hardened, twitching, eager cock proudly erect.
Just as you left him.
Only now, his eyes are drawn, half-lidded, his tongue licking his lips.
“They will get suspicious eventually, darling,” he croons, all the tones of confidence as you draw alongside the bed, dropping your thin, little dressing gown to reveal you pale figure again.
“Let them,” you purr right back. “They wouldn’t dare enter without my permission,” you cock your head flirtatiously, “or yours. But since you are… tied up with other matters…”
“Puns, darling,” he groans, face twisting in a sour show of distaste.
“…they will just have to take my word for it.” You laugh slowly, sitting yourself beside his hip, a single finger tracing through the ridges of his stomach. Ignoring his little taunt, savoring his submission as your willing plaything for now.
“Liar,” he croons rolling his body to press against your ass, where you are perched almost out of reach. “You said Lord Astarion isn’t here,” he’s growling. Provoking. Straining against his binds that are restraining both him and his ever-growing magic.
You give him that wide-eyed innocent look, scanning the room, a show of searching, a pantomime that only makes him sneer playfully and shake his head. “All I see is my lover, my Vampire Rogue, who is being rather stubborn about all this,” you sigh as you swiftly roll to brace yourself above him, perched on your hands and knees to hover over his taught form. Tantalizingly close.
He groans, trying to lift himself to touch any part of you. But you are clever, you’ve played enough games on the receiving end of such pleasurable punishments to know just what you wish to do.
“I am allowed to be stubborn when what you ask for is reckless… painful… dangerous…” he’s snarling below you, his chin jutting up to make his shining fangs all the more fearsome.
“It has been months since the end of our adventures,” you reply in calm and steady tones, “months of solidifying our power, of eliminating the traces of our enemies and assuring alliances, even with old friends…” you think of Wyll, new Duke Ravenguard, and the tenuous agreement to turn his literal blind eye on most of what Astarion does. Trusting you to be the one to keep him in check from anything horribly nefarious.
“You think my consort… my queen… should wander the streets of Baldur’s Gate alone? Unguarded? Like some….”
“Adventurer and hero?” you interject.
“I was going to say commoner…” he sniffs, disgruntled.. “You’re so much more than that now, my love. Let me free and I’ll show you just how special you are… how regal and unique…”
You skate your fingers down the hard lines of his stomach, barely ghosting their way towards his straining erection. “Mmmmm my love, you’re always so good at persuading with your body, I’d like to give it a try.”
“You can try, darling…” he swallows his grunt as you finally touch him, just the pads of your fingers tracing up the underside of his cock. “But you’ll find my tongue is better suited to other… pursuits… than merely trying to give you my word.”
“I’ll take my chances,” you simper, you pout, lowering your head to place a gentle kiss at the joint of his hip. “I think all you need is the correct incentive… the sweetest persuasion…”
“What you ask will certainly take a lot to persuade me, darling,” he groans. “If you think I’m about to allow you to go without an escort around the streets of Baldur’s… hngf…”
You suck him hard, taking in as much of his straining, painful erection as you can until it jabs at the back of your throat and makes you gag. But that’s it. You release him with a deafening, sloppy pop. Meeting his eyes, they are glassy, his teeth bared in a grimace of pain. Or pleasure.
“Hells,” he whines, bucking his hips erratically off the bed, even with his legs tethered and spread as they are.
“You want to rethink that assertion, my love?” you preen, crouched beside him, nested in the bedcovers.
“Never,” he growls, a playful smile on his full and pouting lips. “But I’ll join in your game all you want, darling. You’re burning for my cock as much as I am for you and all your deliciousness.”
“Is that so?” You simper, slowly lowering your mouth back down to hover above his aching erection. The closer you get, the more he betrays his anticipation as it twitches. You barely run the tip of your tongue around that ridge of its head. “Just a simple acquiescence to the little thing I ask of you… just to walk beyond our palace…”
“Not without me,” Astarion’s eyes flash, his fangs glinting in the morning light that seeps through the window. “Never alone, my pet…”
You take him in mouth lips again, loose and sloppy, just a bit of wet and warmth to tease him before you dodge away, avoiding the thrust he attempts to make for some relief. “Ah, ah,” you scold with a simpering pout, “we ask first before we start fucking faces, my love.”
“May… I…” he clenches his beautiful white teeth, forcing his words through them, “fuck… you?”
“No, but thank you for asking,” you taunt, running your tongue up that grooved underside, letting it linger along the intricate map of veins that weave around that hard, throbbing length. “Once you agree, then I’ll be more than happy to let you in… somewhere…”
He lets out a ferocious growl, a smile still playing around his lips, eyes craning above his head to inspect your bindings. Even as they tingle with a little magic, a little extra assurance against all his mighty vampiric powers now. “I swear, if I could shift into my newest form…”
“Your cute little bat?” you grin, laughing loudly as you take him deep enough into your throat to feel the vibrations of your throat. Then, you release another strong suck with a pop. “What would you do, make a nest in my hair?”
He laughed at that, low, dark, and rolling. “Tempting,” he hissed back, “nothing short of what you would deserve, darling.”
“To wander without needing to wait for you to be free from your rule… your duties?” you return your attention to that glistening cock with a hungry grin, “I’ll take my chances again.”
He squirms as you barely graze it with your lips again, just little nipples of that smooth, stretched skin up and down its shaft. “Please, darling, please,” his voice grows desperate, edged with need, “give me just a little of your body.”
“And in exchange?” you croon, gracing him with one last lingering suck and swirl around that blunted tip.
“I will take you where you wish to go,” he groans at the continued release, your little reward of rhythmic bobbing over his length as you take him satisfyingly deeper. “To hells with duties, if that is your wish.” Tone softening, he bucks into your mouth, his timing as always impeccable, jamming that slick hardness down your throat as you lower. You sputter and gag, your throat closing around him before you can lift away.
“Naughty,” you chide him gently, frowning with a hint of a smile as you creep to dangle your body over him, all hands and knees and swinging breasts. Breasts he’s licking his lips for as you draw nearer.
“Just a taste, darling,” he flashes those wide, pleading eyes up at you, “I swear I only need a little…”
“Mmmm, I’ve heard such beautiful lies before,” you raise yourself onto your knees, straddling those clenching muscles of his belly. A single one of your finger slips inside your own folds, and you let him hear just how wet you are. It squelches, sloppy and thick as you tease yourself. You ride over his belly, locking your half-closed eyes with his, wide and burning and dilated as they are. “Good rogues get the spoils,” you pant, letting yourself thrust those fingers into your dripping folds harder, faster. You spasm, riding your own hand, feeling his belly rise and fall against your thighs and cunt as you pleasure yourself.
You can hear the bed groaning, the wooden frame creaking loudly as he pulls at every binding. It makes you lick your lips, eyes fluttered shut to savor the way he’s writhing between your thighs, shaking as he comes undone to watch you panting. Always watching as you begin to come, trembling and moaning as you shatter, your arousal pooling over his belly. As you try to catch your breath, you let him look into your gaze, that feral, barely-bridled glow of red in his eyes. You feel his cock throbbing against your ass, twitching as you make the slightest of contact with where his is in deepest agony.
It makes you smile wickedly, leaning forward to proffer your slick and dripping fingers for his lips. You need not say a word, not when he opens, straining against his tethers to suck you clean. Every lap and lick of his tongue, he feasts on your cum, little noises of feeding in his throat, the same he has always made, lips bruising your neck in the wee hours of night.
You tug them roughly from his mouth. “Enough of that from you,” you chide, smiling. Taunting. “I give you a little, and you still have yet to give me my due, my love.”
He grins, licking the corner of his lip. “You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you, my darling… my treasure…? Have you stopped and thought, perhaps, why I won’t let you wander aimlessly into the open, outside of my protection?”
“Because you just can’t bear to be without me…” you tease him, a wicked smile on your face as you place a quick kiss on his insolent lips. He fights for you not to break away, his teeth biting into the swell of your lower lip. “Selfish lover that you are…” you mumble as he tries to devour you all the more.
“Naturally, my little love,” he pants as you raise up, a hand firmly pushed on the base of his throat. “Has it not always been so, darling? Your ferocious rogue always at your side? But now, my sweet consort, have you ever wondered why I can’t resist being just oh.. so… possessive of you?”
You pause, tilting your head, considering. You wait for an answer, but those full, smirking lips of his just press silently together.
“Oh, you wish for me to draw out your answer,” you needle him, an edge of irritation in your voice now.
“Isn’t that the point of your charming, little game?” he presses, tugging at his bonds to make them snap with tension.
“Then let’s play,” you smirk, neck taut as you cock your chin, posturing with all the dominance you can muster.
“Anything to get some wet part of you on my cock, my love…” he arches his body as you slide off his belly. “If you please,” he adds, extra silken temptation in his tone.
“You haven’t been good, but I suppose you require more persuasion,” you hum, “and perhaps you could use a more convincing sight. Until you tell me exactly why you insist on being my constant escort, at least.”
“You’re clever,” he hisses as you begin to turn your back to him, hand gripping that throbbing shaft, his pulse pounding beneath that smooth skin. “If you can defeat the Absolute, the Netherbrain, it should be easy for you to puzzle out why your vampiric lover can’t let his consort out of his sight for a moment…” He groans as you straddle those narrow hips of his, one hand sweeping his cock through your drenched folds. “No matter how powerful… or insolent she may be…” he adds, a deep-throated growl on every word, a snap as he taunts you.
You let him dip slowly inside you, barely taking more than the ridge of his tip between your thighs. Hands gripped on his knees, you feel his legs shaking, trembling to finally find some relief as you fuck him leisurely. A gentle sway, an agonizingly slow riding. And never enough to let him sheath inside you fully.
A mischievous smirk on your lips, you glance over your shoulder. His teeth are grit, his eyes darkened with lust and wide as he cranes to watch your ass, the gradual, rhythmic rise and fall as you pleasure him with total control. “Powerful, am I?” you gloat, taking him just a little deeper.
It makes him hiss, his eyes shutting as sweat begins to dampen his forehead.
“More than you realize,” he gasps, voice grating as he forces his eyes open to drink in the sight of you. “More than I have ever admitted to anyone… to you.”
“Tch,” you suck your teeth in that way he always has, “how sweet, my love. Is that why you keep me here, keep me at your side always? For my power?”
“Don’t forget your beauty that would launch nations into battles for you, my treasure…”
That makes you smile, makes your stomach flutter in expectation, and for your own sake, you take him in, all the way, until you feel the slap of his thighs between your legs.
He roars, pulling on his binds on this hands and feet to make the wood of your bed groan almost as loudly. “Please,” he spits, “do that again, darling.”
“Tell me more reasons, and I just might,” you toss over your shoulder at him, making him feel only the tip of his cock piercing you again.
“Why don’t you think, clever girl?” he hisses, trying to buck into your cunt, to reclaim that little hint of wet and pressure you gave him.
“Because I am your equal?” you grind with every thrust, letting your walls clench as you take him just a bit deeper.
“Yes…” he pants.
“Because you just can’t bear to be so far you can’t smell just how aroused you make me…” you giggle, splaying a hand behind you, over his navel, pressing against those hardened muscles of his belly as you sink all the way down.
“Gods, yes…” he’s groaning, licking his lips as you let him fill you at last.
“Because you’ve given me your power, extended your blessings…” you cant your hips slowly, still drawing him along, but he can only sigh, at last feeling the tightness, the wetness he’s sought for so long now.
“Not just my blessings and power, darling,” he cranes his head back into the bed with a sated sigh as you ride him. Even slowly.
But you pause. Clambering over his hips you spin around to face him, cock still sunk inside you, a hand gripped around the lines of his jaw, his chin, to make him look at you. “What do you mean?” you bite.
“Don’t you recall, clever girl?” He’s laughing under your hold. “That night, your final night… what more did I give you?”
Your mind races, your hips grinding, that need now built inside you too, finally feeling filled to bursting, his cock twitching as it drags right over that perfect, secret spot between your walls.
“Free me, if you please, so I may remind you…” he’s crooning, purring as you fuck him. “Please,” he adds, a little extra seductively, his face twisting in that way that makes your stomach knot as it always has. You spread your hands beside his head, eyes narrowed to see him gloating so smugly under you. His little order sends ripples of anticipation down your spine to pool even hotter where your bodies join.
Your hand shakes, your body now riding him of its own accord, even as you reach for the binding around one wrist to slip it off his pale skin. Instantly, his hand grabs your wrist, pulling it to his mouth as he sinks his fangs into your flesh. You groan, the wave of painful pleasure tearing through you hard enough to make you come. All you feel is his lips drinking you in, his cock throbbing as you spasm and ride him still through the clenches of your orgasm. You’re so full, so taken, so overwhelmed.
And he’s laughing, swirling his tongue over your dripping blood.
“Blood,” you breathe through your climax.
“Not yours,” he growls before biting into his own wrist in the same way. Then, he proffers that flow of his blood for your own lips to taste. “I gave you mine… I made you mine.”
You suck your fill, the tingle of his power, the rush of all that he is, all that he has always been, filling your belly.
“You are not some spawn, darling,” he smirks, that secret dancing over the full pout of his lips. “Your vampire lord gave you his own blood.” His words reach your ear through the euphoria of drinking him in. Suddenly, his hand pulls from your hungry mouth, fingers clawing around your throat. He presses, just enough to make your eyes wide as you swallow under his strength, his hold pulling you down so close to his handsome face. “Even a drop given to you, to turn you, it makes you mine… my consort, my bride, my vampire lover forever, beyond the touch of time itself.”
“Not spawn?” you rasp through his hold on you, a pleased, pleasured smile flickering around your lips as he stares with such longing and adoration up at you.
“No,” he purrs, “but it means I will never let you out of my sight, my power, my protection, so long as we walk this earth. I would rather burn the world to keep you with me forever than risk losing my bride for an instant….” You tremble, you gasp at the ferocity in his gaze as he pulls you down by your throat until your lips crash into his. He feasts on your mouth, groaning at the taste of how your bloods mix and mingle into an intoxicating flavor. Rich. Powerful. United.
Inseparable.
“What a good, good master,” you simper into his kiss. “You shall be rewarded…” You touch the binds again, they all go limp as he shakes them off. He growls his pleasure. He touches you everywhere, fingers sliding from your neck to claw into the hairs at the nape of your neck, nails grabbing for your hips. Legs now liberated, the muscles of his thighs bunch as he starts to fuck hard into you from beneath, feet planted firmly on the bed at last.
“Thank you, my dearest love,” he grins widely, wickedly at you. “I hope I need not persuade you to trust me. Never again forget what it means to be mine…”
“Your bride,” you simper, tasting the title on your tongue, face quirking in a slight and knowing smile. “And that makes you my hus-”
“Your master,” he lifts his head, the weight of his hand at your nape pressing your mouth back down, barely brushing his taunting smirk. “Your lover… your mate or spouse or what have you behind closed doors only.” Then he bites into your neck, fangs piercing like the razors they are. A loud moan slips from your lips as you shiver and shudder in orgasm again from the pain and pleasure. His voice cuts through just as sharply, “And you may only call me husband… three times… for all eternity…” His tongue laps the blood that spills from your veins and down your shoulder now. “Choose wisely, my dearest darling.”
You fight the pull of your pleasure, the need to go limp and just let him fuck you. Not after your hard won victory. So you pull from his mouth, pushing that controlling hand at your neck back down to the bed. “Of course, darling,” you give a naughty smirk, a defiant rake of your brows and flutter of your lips as you press to whisper against his neck instead. “Whatever you say, husband,” you hiss with pure, delightful insolence before you bite him back. Now it’s your mouth that makes him squirm, your control that makes his shudder and hitch as he chases his climax, seeking with reckless abandon the thing that you have kept just tantalizingly out of reach.
“You fuck me like this, my love, and you just might persuade me to get used to it…” he rasps, hands grasped at your hips to keep you steady so he can pummel you mercilessly.
“Ah ah,” you tut your tongue to chide him. “Remember, good masters ask before they come inside their brides,” you gloat, feeling that truth, that connection of your blood and your undead hearts beating all the stronger for it.
“Please,” he begs harshly through gritted teeth, his fucking undeterred as he waits for your word.
He slams up into you with all the more force, his face already screwing and twisting with how close he is.
“Yes, my love,” you acquiesce with a dramatic lilt. It doesn’t take long, not after he watches you smile and feels you clench your walls around him with all your strength. He roars, writhing and spasming as he empties inside you. Buried so deep you feel the tip of his cock twitching against the end of your channel.
You gasp, your sweat dripping down your temple as you watch him begin to still and relax beneath you. But you stay, cock deep and warm inside you, his thighs beneath you soaked with your mingled juices.
“So,” you pant, letting your own body respond with its own basking in the glow of your pleasure, as you slowly lower your body to blanket him. His hand strays absentmindedly through your hair, fingertips softly brushing your cheek with each pass. “You must have lots of ruling to attend to now that you’ve persuaded me,” you murmur, nestled against the hard bone of his jaw, tracing your finger through the pooling of his blood from your bite. You bring that finger to your mouth to suck it clean. “I’ll wait for you before I wish to venture out for the day.”
“Oh,” he grips into your hair, raising your head to look at him again, and your smile widens to see the intensity, the possessive glint in his crimson eyes. “I think all that can wait. Right now, you can choose, venture out and then fuck again until you’re begging me for more? Or fuck first and then venture out into the day, my love?”
You giggle, a grind of your hips to drag over his still hardened cock inside you. “Hmm, a tough choice,” you grin, scoring your own fingers through his hair, “perhaps you need to persuade me this time…”
#ascended astarion x reader#sub!ascended astarion#ascended astarion#astarion smut#bg3 smut#bg3#baldur’s gate astarion#astarion x female reader#astarion x you#astarion x f!reader#astarion x tav#astarion x female tav#astarion x f!tav#baldurs gate astarion#baldur's gate 3 astarion#astarion romance#astarion fic#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#astarion#astarion fanfic#astarion ancunin#baldursgate3#baldur’s gate iii#baldurs gate smut#baldur’s gate 3#baldur's gate#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii
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Demon hunter reader squeezing demon ghost while asleep that it somewhat painful grip having ghost shocked about how fuck did hw manage to go through wtver barrier stopping them from hurting eachother and demon hunter who was clinging out of finding peace and protection with simon in some sort that his pride too strong to admit that he feels afficnated to demon like that
Okay this got my brain worms worming
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It's said what makes a hunter isn't silver or blessed water, but nightmares and blood. You're not a stranger to either, no hunter that's in the industry for something more than stupid pride is intimately familiar with sleepless nights. You know all the ways your mind comes up with to haunt you, and this time you're accosted with the usual frights; cracked claws reaching out to snatch you up, glowing eyes hunting you through twisting corridors of your family home, crooked teeth tearing into your flesh and vomiting your blood back into your mouth until you choke.
Though you are a grown man now, you still whimper like a babe when the nightmares come crawling back. Your body turns on it's own, reaching out and grasping the first thing your fingers touch like a child after a teddy bear. Your grip is iron tight as you pull the warm body closer to you, wrapping all four limbs around Ghost and he's certain he can hear his makeshift bones creak.
Ghost lays motionless, arms by his side, looking straight at the ceiling. Ghost doesn't remember when he last laid in a bed- scratch that. He doesn't even remember when he had laid down at all. Certainly not since he became a demon. And the only reason why he's laying there with his thumb up his ass instead of doing something worthwhile, like finding a way to dissolve this 'marriage', is because you two aren't able to be far away from each other and Ghost would rather get thrown out of Heaven again than lay on the ground like a dog.
At yet another shift of your body he turns his head enough to look at you. He watches your face twist, eyes screwing shut, lips pulling back into a snarl. But the 'fearsome' visage quickly falls and you burrow your face into his neck with a soft whimper, shivering like a puppy. Your arms tighten, blunt nails digging into his arm.
It hurts.
If he had eyebrows on the skull making up his 'face' they would have reached the center of his skull. He can't even begin to think how you're able to hurt him right now. The mere fact that God's pet project, so ugly in your fragility, could hurt him has disgust curling in his stomach.
Ghost has a stray thought to throw you off and acts on it — he's a demon after all, his existence is focused on the suffering of humans. He raises the hand you're not clutching like a lifeline, sharp claws quickly reaching to grab the back of your shirt, trying to summon up the strength to throw you off despite the damned binding.
He's not sure if it's the binding that stops him or the soft sob you let out fucking hope not. His fist relaxes, large paw like hand sliding down your back to slip under your shirt. His hand is warm like dying coals against your sweaty skin, trailing up the curve of your spine and back again in slow even strokes.
It's as if you can feel how shit he is at this, at, -blech- comforting you, your body shifting and starting to squirm away from him. "Enough good hunter." Ghost grunts, voice like grinding glass on sandpaper as he turns on his side, pulling you close with his chest. "You're alright."
The combination of his voice and the heat coming off his body soothes your mind. He feels you melt into his body, all your muscles relaxing, the frantic beating of your heart slowing as you start to take in slow measured breaths. He desperately wants to think of you as a maggot when you burrow your face into his neck, as some disgusting thing when you wrap all your limbs around him. Cute.
He finds he can't. He can't think at all; the sensation of your body against his leaves his mind empty, Tv static buzzing in his core. His chest rumbles with a low and deep growl definitely not a purr, He doesn't purr. You make a noise in return, your grip relaxing but in no way letting him go, mumbling unintelligent words under your breath.
Imagine that, a demon comforting a hunter. Ghost really did lose his mind on the way down.
His hand wraps around your waist and he can feel your sleepy smile against neck.... Holding you a little longer shouldn't hurt.
#gnome correspondence#cod mw2#x reader#male reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x male reader#cod simon ghost riley#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#cod x male reader#Cod demon angel au#cod x reader#call of duty modern warfare 2#simon ghost x reader#gay
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CaughtOffGuard!
ctw: BajixFem!Reader , nsfw/smut , timeskip/college
Disclaimer!: I don’t feel I m very good at writing active smut, so I apologize if this seems off!
It has been one fucking HELL of a day. Baji swore to Chifuyu he could handle opening the pet store all on his own.
Yes, even though he had an exam an hour before the store opened.
Baji had been up and literally running since four in the morning. And now, just after getting off his shift at the shop, head heavy with doubt about just how shitty he probably did on his exam—- he realized he forgot to leave out food for Peke.
“I’m so sorry buddy.” Baji sighed, tenderly petting the scarred cat while he ate. “Kei?~ are you home?” You could be heard just a wall over. “Yeaaah. Forgot to stop by the store after work though. I‘ll run by the corner shop in a sec, you need anything?”
Circling your way into the same room as your long term boyfriend, you took note of his frazzled mannerisms. As though adrenaline was pushing his husk to do everything at once.
“I fed Peke earlier babe,” you swiveled Baji’s moving form from going for his discarded wallet and jacket. “C’mere! Ain’t seen your cute face all day.”
Before he could wrestle his way free from your tangled limbs, you had succeeded in disorienting him into tripping over his own feet to fall back onto the couch:
Step 1: Complete
“Babbbeeeee,” Baji whined deeply, masked as a powerless growl. “Ain’t got time for this right now. I’m meeting Dranken an’ Mikey down at SS Motor in—-!! aah..”
It was painful. Watching the one you love overwork themselves to a point such as this. You gave your fearsome lover a pouting look, while pressing your body against his with just enough pressure to melt his sore muscles into your own.
“Oh, baby, no you’re not.” You looped your hands under Baji’s loose work shirt, grazing your slightly overgrown nails in detailed patterns over the skin of his back.
A relieved moan escaped past Baji’s ego, his eyebrows knitting together as chills ran down his entire body. Fuckk.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, was better than the feeling of you against his body like this.
Not one to object his queen, Baji batted his glazed over, tired eyes. He opened his mouth, seconds passing, but the words seemed to escape him. Too obsessed with the helplessly lost look in Baji Keisuke’s eyes, you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Stay,” you ordered, so, so sweetly.
Taking advantage of his condition, you quickly snaked your kiss into his mouth.
This was the first kiss the two of you had shared in perhaps two days, what with all the late shifts, classes and obligations.
As experienced as you were in kissing Baji for years, your kiss practically emitted steam. Humid in a way that sent the both of you rutting into each-other every way physically possible. Your tongues weld into a mass of muscle and slick, mixing saliva to create an intoxicating cocktail. You only shifted your lips apart enough for the both of you to gasp against each others skin, teeth clattering once by accident but soon felt his bite down against the hollow of your neck. Pressing his canines deeper— until he was sucking your soft skin harshly.
The lazy roll of his tongue teased your thin layer of skin, gently biting you closer. You sighed in content across Keisuke’s ear. Neither of you needed words to understand the other.
Melting even closer against his body, a delicious warmth wrapped tightly across Baji’s hips. Clad only in a pair of shorts, every roll of your hips was genuinely intoxicating. “G-gatta…” Baji made one last pass in protesting against you. To be a responsible adult.
But you purred at his pathetic form, red faced and cross eyed. All for you. You slid your tongue back into Kei’s mouth, swiveling your hips so as to rub your clit as best you can against the outline of his already hardened erection.
“Gotta what, baby?” You asked in an innocent voice, giving his bottom lip a gentle pull in between your teeth. “If you can’t use your words properly, I’ll have to put this mouth to better use,”
And just as quickly, Baji lost all control. He always seemed to lose these damned encounters. Never one to submit, yet never could lift a finger to defy you.
Rubbing gently against him, you slid your hand just far enough under his pants to coat your finger with the bead of precum. Trailing said finger back up and between lips, you moaned softly. You batted your eyelashes down at Baji, kissing him deeply once more. “Let me make you feel better~” you ordered between kisses.
Baji could never deny you.
In skilled strokes, you rid Baji of the clothes on his lower half.
You were guiding Baji’s hands across your body, caressing the skin of your curves with his rough calloused touch, using them like a tool to discard every bit of clothing you had on.
“You’re so beautiful…” Baji breathed gently, never missing your stare. Once your hands let go in guiding his touch, he immediately tangled your hair into his fingers gently, feverishly pulling you down to kiss you deeper.
You may have started this night off with the upper hand, it was simply a fact that Baji was stronger than you. That Baji Keisuke was a true beast that would eventually snap and swallow you whole.
You smiled widely into his bruising kiss, letting your body relax as he took control entirely. “So.. fucking soft.” he bit the opposite side of your neck, allowing the exploration of one hand to gingerly graze over you once more;
from shoulder,
to butterfly bone,
along the rim of your rib cage,
up, to gently brush his thumb over your budded nipple.
“So perfect.” He smiles when looking into your increasingly lustful gaze.
Without further distraction, the tips of his fingers honed straight for your slick sex. “Just so excited to see me, weren’t you?”
He was soon answered by the feeling of your pulsating clit, eager to be touched. Baji chuckled, circling the bud quickly against his middle finger. “You know just how to build me back up again doll,” he moaned, the leaking juices you produced slowly began dripping on his neglected length.
“How bout I fill you up as thanks?”
Baji smirked when you practically cried. “Please?” You pleaded, softly kissing him one more time.
“Anything for you.”
God, and he did not waste any time in doing so. Swirling what juices he had coating his fingers across his leaking tip, he made quick work sinking you down onto it.
It was just the tip, yet neither of you could suppress the overwhelming feeling of finally being with one another. It was so easy to get drunk off of eachother. Impatiently, you pulled him deeper into you.
“Shitshitshit— c-calm down..! You’re gonna make me-“ Baji’s eyes rolled back at the feeling. How long had it been? Since you fucked him like this?
“You’re always running around these days… can’t be mad at me for wanting you all to myself.”
Well, he couldn’t argue that. Still, at this pace, sinking himself to the deepest part of you he could in one slow motion… it was too much. A shiver ran down his spine when the seal of your pussy lips met the juncture of his navel. Locking him inside of you for only a few seconds.
“I’ll take care of you, so try to relax for me, ‘Kay?” You breathed hard. It always took a few seconds for your to adjust to his size, but the added intensity helped. Drunk from it all, he finally let himself become dominated. Baji rested his head against the back of the couch, and laid his hands flat against your thighs, allowing them to do their will.
“Fuck,” he moaned, feeling you clench down on him in praise. “You win.”
“Good boy.” You whispered in his ear, pulling your hips up slowly, and sinking back down at an agonizingly slow pace.
You wanted him to feel everything. Feel his veins trace your insides. How your muscles contracted against his tip. The warmth of your insides stroking him in perfect stride. Everything.
Knowing you could only bare this pace for a few more strokes, you began humping faster. It was instinctive. You craved the act of taking what was yours for so long now, it became impossible to hold back.
“Kei…” only part of his name escaped your lips, begging so sweetly.
Both of you starred down, enthralled by the sight below. Faster, til you couldn’t anymore.
It was harder than it looked. Your legs began to shake, maybe from pleasure, but definitely because it was tiresome work.
Yet still you prevailed. Letting your legs rest at last, you sat in his lap with added weight. The deepest he could possibly be, given the position.
Just as he had thought you were ready to call it quits, your hips began go swivel quickly.
“Oh fuck-“ he gasped. This was it, the pleasure he had been building up this entire time was beginning to unravel.
And you knew it. You smirked at Baji’s agape expression, his eyes rolling back once more.
“Such a good boy,” now clenching your abdomen repeatedly, it was only a matter of seconds. Devilish, he thought. He didn’t need to warn you of his oncoming release, you already knew. You could feel him twitching inside you.
Pairing the intoxicating swirl of your hips and clench of your muscles, with the last bit of strength your thighs could muster, you teased Baji’s dick into pulling out and sinking back into you impossibly fast.
With this amount of work, you knew you wouldn’t finish, but he would, and ultimately that was your goal in all this.
And finally, finally, the tension he’d been trying to prolong finally snapped. With a deep, guttural moan, Baji let himself be heard as you pumped him for all he was worth.
His hands couldn’t stop his rougher hands from forcing your hips closer, furthering himself into you deeply. He clenched his own hips upwards in reply, shuddering as his cum began filling you up.
He didn’t intend to, but it was impossible not to have. The overwhelming urge to be burried inside you was too great. Especially after not participating for so long, this was heaven.
Baji breathed heavily. He didn’t do much work, but he was spent. Resting back into the couch below, he slowly began regaining eyesight.
Your face was front view, beautiful and equally as spent. “Submission looks good on you,” you commented cheerily.
Baji laughed. “Don’t get used to it,” he slapped your ass, harsh, warning a loud yip from you. “You’re mine now.”
#been in my drafts forever#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev#tokyo revengers x reader#Tokyo revengers smut#baji keisuke#baji#baji x reader#tokyo rev x y/n#keisuke baji x reader smut#baji x reader smut#baji x female reader
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< PREVIOUS PART
"Diana, you have exhausted valuable resources and the skills of our healers for one woman. To what end? She will die anyway. Maybe not today or tomorrow. Maybe not a year from now or ten but she will die. You're just delaying the inevitable."
Diana had few moments in her life where she could truthfully say she was angry with her mother. But in that moment she almost hated her. The Amazons were supposed to be messengers of peace and truth and justice. What happened to her mother while she was away? What happened to the fearsome woman who raised and taught her to stand for what was right? This wasn't the first time they'd had this argument and as your life hung in the balance, Diana doubted it would be the last.
You hadn't uttered more than a few sentences since arriving on the sandy shores of Themyscira and that was two weeks ago. You'd been in and out of consciousness every since. Never awake longer than a second or two and no one could tell Diana why. The healers had done all they could. The rest was up to you.
Diana gritted her teeth and rose from your bedside. "You and I are not having this conversation again, mama. Y/N is staying here until she wakes up. The healers will attend her for as long as she requires their attention and that is final. You gave me your word and you will stand by it."
"Perhaps I gave it too hastily."
Fire and hatred burned in Diana's eyes but the Queen of the Amazons did not--would not--falter. "I know you've formed something of an…attachment…to this girl--"
Diana laughed, tearfully. Attachment. What a paltry word to describe what she felt for you. This all-consuming yearning and devotion that kept her up nights and drove her to kneel at your bedside for hours with no regard to her own hunger and comfort. "Attachment," Diana repeated, laughing again.
"She is not like us, my daughter" the queen continued. "She is not like you--"
"She doesn't have to be! I don't need her to be like me. I don't need her to do anything but live, mama!"
"I do not mean to be cruel but if this is what her ailing has done to you…I don't want to know what would become of you if she perished."
Diana for the first time since coming home was inclined to agree with her mother. She opened her mouth to speak, some of her earlier anger dissipating, when a sharp breath stole away her words.
Diana whirled.
You rubbed sleep from your eyes, wincing as you struggled to get comfortable in the narrow cot on which you lay.
Diana stumbled to your bedside and fell to her knees.
You gave her a weak smile, bleary-eyed smile. Your hair was a bird's nest atop your head and yet to Diana, you'd never looked more beautiful.
You hit the ground hard not for the first time today.
"Dammit," you hissed.
Diana leaned into your line of sight with an apologetic smile. "Are you alright?"
"No I'm not alright!" you snapped. "A toddler could have blocked that kick and I just…I just," you screwed your eyes shut and breathed through the pain, the embarrassment, and frustration. "I'm not the same, D. My body…it's not the same."
She dropped to her knees and gently straddled your waist. Taking your face in her hands, she kissed your lids again and again until you opened them. "It's only been a week, my love. It could take months even years to remind your body of what your mind never forgot. Give it time."
It had been four months since you woke up in Themyscira's infirmary. Four long grueling months spent trying to remember how to walk and care for yourself. Fighting off pain and infection with strange herbs and medicinal techniques you'd never heard of and you were tired. So, so tired of being weak and fragile on an island surrounded by women who were the very definition of everything you used to be.
"But I don't want it to take months or years!" tears of frustration filled your eyes.
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice." Diana carefully rolled off of you and into the grass.
"Someone did this to me, Diana. I could have died."
"I know… And when you are well my love, we will find them and you will have your justice. But whether you like it or not it will take time. And if you will have me, I will be here with you. For every step of the way. And every step after that."
REQUESTED! | REQUESTS: OPEN | REBLOG DON’T REPOST | GIF?
#requested by anon#requested#dc imagine#imagine dc#diana x reader#diana prince x reader#wonder woman#wonder woman x reader#the justice league#imagine the justice league#justice leauge imagine#justice league x reader#dc x reader#dc reader insert#wonder woman imagine#wonder woman imagines#wonder woman fanfiction#wonder woman fanfic#fem reader#female reader#x reader#reader insert
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To add to anons Haarlep request, could I request a scene where Raphael forces reader to take his ascended cock. It’s at that moment where Haarlep realizes they actually do have feelings for tav
I love angsty shit like this!!! I hope you enjoy it babes!!! I’m trying to keep Haarlep in character as best as possible!! I wrote this while eating at shake shack LMAO I hope it turned out okay!!!
Haarlep - Ascended Raphael - NSFW - Noncon - Hurt/ Comfort - (Click Here For Haarlep Request)
Haarlep holds you tightly in their arms, attempting to offer some semblance of comfort before the impending pain. Their hand caresses your head gently as they whisper in your ear, "The more you resist, the longer he will prolong it." The cold ground beneath you provides no solace for what is about to unfold.
Opening your eyes, you gaze upon the transformation that Raphael has undergone. His once simple horns have morphed into a complex crown of infernal bone, framing his snouted face. Additional faces protrude from either side of his cheekbones, granting him a total of four fiery orange eyes. His entire being radiates with infernal flame, and fearsome tusks emerge from each of his mouths. Trembling, you find your arms instinctively reaching out to grasp Haarlep's, desperately pleading, "Haarlep, please... I-I won't be able to endure this..." Tears well up in your eyes.
As for Haarlep, they were powerless. They have already tried to sway Raphael, his brat of a devil. But in Raphael's eyes, both of you have crossed the boundaries one too many times. And now, he plans to utterly ruin you, to push you beyond the point of no return. He seeks to starve Haarlep of their desires, and what better way than to take the very flesh that brings them the most pleasure.
Haarlep rests their head against yours, silently promising to bring you relief in the healing bath afterward, it would be your only saving grace. Raphael, however, pays no heed to your pleas, his focus solely on the cruel act that is about to unfold. He positions himself at your entrance, his monstrously large cock ready to invade your trembling core.
A scream escapes your lips as your pussy strains to accommodate the colossal pillar of cock that invades you. It feels as if you are being torn in two, both your stomach and cunt stretching to accommodate the immense member. Your nails dig into Haarlep's arms, their grip on you tightening as they reassure, "It will be over soon, little dove." The ridges on Raphael's cock only added to the discomfort, scraping against your sensitive inner walls. A strained whimper escapes you as he shows no mercy, thrusting into you with relentless force, plunging deep into your womb. The brutal pace leaves you gasping for air, with no respite in sight. "N-no... No more, pl-please... Har-Haarlep…" you groan, your head hanging limply. Haarlep lifts your head gently, planting a tender kiss upon your forehead.
Another scream erupts from your lips as you throw your head back against Haarlep's chest. Raphael is determined to breach your cervix, to claim your womb as his own. He desires to impregnate you, to mark you as his possession.
Without wasting a moment, Raphael releases a torrent of his cum inside you, causing your once flat belly to swell with his seed. Tears stream down your face, you realize the gravity of the situation, the knowledge that you will carry his offspring, a physical manifestation of his dominance over you. There’s no way you aren’t pregnant after all this…
As Raphael reverts to his human form, a smirk of satisfaction plays on his lips. Your stretched and gaping cunt leaks his seed, an endless stream that seems to mock your vulnerability. "I wonder," he taunts, his voice dripping with sadistic delight, "if my child will bear resemblance to my ascended form. Will it tear your insides as it emerges, breathing new life into this world? Only time will tell." With a snap of his fingers, he disappears, leaving you and Haarlep on the floor, your consciousness barely intact.
Haarlep takes a moment to collect themselves, their emotions a twisted mix of dread? And, love? They gather you in their arms, carrying you over their shoulders to the healing bath, Raphael's cum still oozing from your ravaged cunt. As they enter the bath, Haarlep carefully places you in the water, the warmth offering a brief respite from the pain and torment that has consumed you.
In the past, Haarlep had reveled in your suffering, laughing in your face before taking you for themselves, ravishing your cunt just as their master had done. But now, after all this time spent together and witnessing your unwavering loyalty, Haarlep found themselves contemplating the concept of love. The dread in their chest prompts them to ponder these unfamiliar emotions. The desire to protect and keep you safe, to claim you as their own, grows within them. Haarlep has always despised Raphael, but with every passing second that you remain under his clutches, the yearning for his demise intensifies. Perhaps it is time to send word to your old companions…
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate#raphael bg3#bg3 raphael#tav#Haarlep#haarlep x tav#raphael x reader#ascended raphael#ascended Raphael x tav#haarlep x reader#bg3 Raphael x tav#bg3 raphael x reader#tw.noncon
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Arkham Asylum is a terrible and unethical place that treats its patients like sub-humans. Not only do the doctors and guards in the Asylum treat them like that but the police and the Batman most of the time do as well. Despite the fact that the city sends them to get mental health care, everyone has already given up on the idea of them ever getting better. Having said that can you imagine how lonely that must be for the Rogues, to have no one advocate for you when your treated badly, to instead have the people meant to help you hate you instead? To look so different and behave oddly, how lonely it must be to have no one on your side. No one except each other of course.
They’re kept in the same cell block together, away from all the other patients. They can hear each other all the time, see each other pacing or panicking or breaking down. It’s Riddler who watches a bruised Scarecrow get dragged back from his ‘Therapy Session’ barely concussion and he’s the one who sits next to the cell glass and shows him how to put his arm back into place. He’s also the one distracting him from the pain with an endless supply of riddles and questions about Scarecrows work. It’s the fearsome Scarecrow who sits with his back to his cell wall and spends hour quietly reciting poetry back and forth with the Mad Hatter, till he calms down from his panic attacks. His therapist makes no progress in pulling out Killer Crocs humanity but he does calm down when the Mad Hatter waste away the hours telling him stories through the pipes.
Killer Croc is the only one who can touch Ivy during her freak outs. The poison in her skin burns his scales and her thorns dig into his arms but he holds her until her rage dies down and she wilts in his arms. Ivy has a specialty cell meant to keep the light out, Mr. Freeze also has a specialty cell next to hers for his body temperature meaning they are even further isolated from the others. They keep each other sane, Ivy listening for hours as Freeze reminisces about Nora and when he gets tired she fills the silence with talk of flowers and gardening tips.
Freeze speaks loudly with his stories so his voice will carry to one of the isolation cells, Arkham has a habit of echoing. Victor Zsasz listens to the stories and calms his breathing down as he tries to imagine life outside of the four foam walls he’s been trapped in for, a while. It’s easy to loose track of time in these cells as nothing ever changes. It’s Zsasz who claws up some of the foam so he can tap the wall between his cell and the one next door. He sends messages in Morse code to the other solitary confinement cell belonging to the Clown Prince of Crime himself. Joker clings to messages sent between the wall as it’s the only contact he gets outside of the guards coming into his cell. The message is the same one they all tell each other, in their worst moments.
Be strong, I’m still here.
#arkham asylum#Rogue Family Au#batman#edward nygma#riddler#jonathan crane#scarecrow#jervis tetch#mad hatter#waylone jones#killer croc#pamela lillian isley#poison ivy#victor fries#mr freeze#victor zsasz#joker
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Worthy Of You-Sara Kujou X Reader
Something a bit self-indulgent, I've been in a mood to write some Genshin and decided to go for my favorite girl.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The Tengu General stumbled through her door, her body screaming at her in pain and rage from the day’s efforts.
Or more accurately, the last several day’s efforts, this was the first time in a week she had been back home.
Oh, Archon’s, you were going to be furious with her…
She remembered the last time she came home like this after the business with that Fatui woman.
Being locked inside her home, while extremely good for her health, meant she had to contend with a fearsome opponent capable of defeating with only a word, no matter how much she steeled her will.
“Sara.” her fearsome opponent's voice said with a harsh and disappointed tone.
The proud Tengu hung her head and winced at the voice.
“Shogun give me strength.” Sara prayed to her Archon
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sara groaned pleasurably as she slid into the bath you ran for her.
“You need to take better care of yourself, General.” you told the purple haired woman as you placed your hands on her shoulders and began to knead your thumbs into the muscle, drawing a moan out of her.
“General.” Sara thought to herself.
You really were that angry with her.
Sara sighed in her head.
“There’s nothing for it then… I just have to make sure I don’t disappoint you again.” Sara thought to herself as she looked at you.
“Why did the shogun bless me with you?” she asked herself aloud.
“Maybe because the Shogun didn’t want one of her most loyal subjects to work herself into an early grave.” You told the Tengu as you placed your head on hers.
“No, I must have done something particularly worthy to be with you. Something more than just being loyal.” Sara responded as she leaned into you.
“Well, either way I’m just glad you are here Sara” You told her, allowing your disappointment in the Tengu to wane ever so slightly as you removed your hands from her shoulders and reached for the only materials in all of Teyvat suited for such a rare beauty as Sara.
A gentle shampoo and conditioner, a body wash that would forever be the smell of Sara in your mind, and the most important tool, a brush suitable for feathers.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sara looked at your sleeping form with curiosity.
When she asked why the Shogun blessed her with you she was being quite serious.
There is no reason for her to have been rewarded so, Sara owes her life to the Shogun.
But she had you?
Why?
Sara pulled herself closer to you.
“Maybe I should stop asking questions like that and ask you a much more important question?” she quietly whispered to your sleeping form.
A moment later, Sara mouthed a question. Four words that she dare not speak. Not yet at least.
She wanted to make sure that she was someone worthy of you before that.
She wanted to be worthy of someone whose very presence soothed her.
Worthy of someone she loved so dearly.
Worthy of you.
#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#sara x reader#kujou x reader#kujou sara
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31 Days of Derek Hale
Day 21: Centaur
Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21
“Fuck!” Derek roared as he stormed into the yard, hands clenched into tight fists.
The werewolf was irritated over having nearly lost control of his inner wolf, and nearly wolfing out in public. Derek and Stiles had been out on a simple dinner date, when stupid Jackson had to show up and be his usual douchey self. Normally, Derek was able to keep his lupine instincts in check; however, the second that stupid Jackson had placed his hand on a clearly annoyed Stiles’s shoulder, Derek had seen red. He’d shot out of his seat and had unleashed a fearsome snarl, even baring his massive werewolf fangs in the jerk’s direction.
It had managed to get Jackson to cut his crap, but the action had also accidentally caught the attention of other patrons in the restaurant, who’d only stared awkwardly/fearfully in Derek’s direction. The ceaseless staring had totally ruined the night, and Derek had dragged Stiles out of there early, much to his chagrin.
“Der!” Stiles called out after the stomping werewolf. “It’s fine, really!”
Derek was still seething. Sure he was irritated with Jackson, yet he was more so angry with himself and how his lack of self-control had ruined his date with Stiles. Thinking about it more only served to bring out an onslaught of more anger-inducing memories about how being a werewolf was a pain in Derek’s ass.
His jaw clenched, Derek just huffed in annoyance. “It’s not fine,” he pouted. “And this whole werewolf bullshit is something that’s just going to keep causing us trouble.”
Stiles frowned and placed a tender hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Sometimes,” Derek huffed, “I wish I wasn’t a werewolf.”
On cue, a streak of light flickered through the night sky as a shooting star bolted across.
Immediately, Derek flinched as he felt a warm travel throughout his body. The first thing he noticed was that his pants were starting to grow uncomfortably tight.
“What the hell…?” Derek wondered aloud as he looked down at himself. HIs eyes went wide as saucers when he saw his altered bulge in the front of his pants.
His normally proportional six inches had somehow elongated, creating what looked like Derek was stuffing a ripe grapefruit in his boxers. It was obscenely large, and between his thick thighs, Derek felt balls that had to be the size of lemons. Worse was that back of his pants felt as if they’s burst at any moment.
Looking over his broad shoulder, Derek gasped at the caricature of a butt that was attached to him. His perky cheeks had somehow managed to balloon out to a crazy size, pushing further out with each second.
In his panic, Derek ripped off his pants, his breath getting caught in his throat at what he saw.
Never being one lost for words, Stiles gasped out, “Holy crap, Der! You’ve got a horse cock!”
Derek’s cock had grown to at least fifteen inches, and it was nearly as thick of his beefy wrist. His balls had swollen up to resemble baseballs. The werewolf didn’t have time to focus on that as he felt his weight being yanked back due to the increasing size of his booty.
His legs stretched out longer, causing Derek to sprout up at least two more feet in height. All he could do was stare in disbelief at his changing body, his heart beat loudly in his muscled chest as he wondered what was happening to him. His throat went dry as he witnessed his toes fusing together, his nails hardening to form hooves.
His butt grew so big that Derek stumble back and almost fell, but he was caught by something.
Stiles’s wordless gasp mirrored his own as he looked back and saw that he’d grown an extra set of legs to offset his elongated backside. Derek blushed at how he must’ve looked, having his regular-looking torso sitting atop a lower half that was stretched out with four legs needed to keep it upright.
Derek’s altered lower half began to itch as thick, black fur sprouted all over it, covering every inch. It was glossy and looked shiny underneath the moonlight. As a final touch, Derek winced when he felt his distended backside tingle as he sprouted a long tail that swished back and forth.
The warmth finally dissipated, and Derek also felt an odd calm inside of his head, like his inner wolf was finally silenced.
“What the fuck just happened?!” Derek panicked, taking an awkward step forward in his new body, his hooves clacking loudly on the ground as he struggled to get used to walking. As he moved, his huge cock dangled around freely, making his face crimson.
Stiles’s mouth was agape as he looked over his changed boyfriend. Derek’s long legs were thick with muscle, which flexed with animalistic power with every heavy step he took. “Der,” he gasped, “you’re a centaur!”
“A what?” Derek groaned, pinching his nose in irritation. “When I said that I didn’t want to be a werewolf anymore, that didn’t mean that I’d rather be a centaur instead! How the fuck am I supposed to hide this thing!?” He gestured at his horse ass and cock, which were humongous and definitely would prove to be difficult to keep from prying eyes.
Derek stopped and sniffed at the air, still maintaining a keen sense of smell. And a curious aroma was wafting off of Stiles in waves.
“R-really?” Derek asked incredulously.
Stiles bit down on his lower lip and shrugged. “I played a lot of fantasy RPGs, and always liked the centaur characters… like, a lot.”
Derek felt his shock slowly fade, and he couldn’t help but grin coyly at his boyfriend.”C’mere, I’ll give you a ride,” he chuckled.
Stiles eagerly took his hand and hopped up onto Derek’s new back, wrapping his arms around Derek’s human torso.
Derek marveled at how weightless Stiles felt as he carried him, and he began to trot towards the house… his swaying horse cock getting harder and harder. He just hoped that Stiles knew some special stretching techniques.
#31 days of derek hale#Derek Hale#tyler hoechlin#dylan o'brien#Teen Wolf#Sterek#stiles stilinski#Cockgrowth#Muscle#Centaur#Centaur TF#Magical TF#Wish gone wrong
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Your heart is pounding and it can't be stopped
The red queen is dead! Unfortunately, her Overblot is an even more fearsome foe.
(Twst au where Overblots are apocalyptic events)
Riddle Rosehearts was dead.
Yuko had not seen the body, but she knew this to be true.
Would there even be a body? What had Crowley once told them about Overblots? They would drain the Host of power, like a soda can that would inevitably be discarded. Does that mean that the body would be tossed aside, that maybe one day they could go back and bury the poor boy? Would it simply disappear the moment there was no more mana, nothing left of the boy except for a rampaging monster? Or would the body stay there, attached to the front of it, until it decayed naturally?
Did it even matter, anymore?
A high scream met their ears.
They didn’t stop to let themselves wonder whether they recognized the voice.
Her breathing came in short, aborted gasps. Deuce’s hand, wrapped around her own, was gripping her so tightly that it was starting to hurt. Blot hung heavy in the air, thick blobs of inky blackness threatening to choke them. Her feet stumbled over cobbled streets. Ace’s collar glinted in the red-tinted sun as he struggled to tug it over his head with a newfound fervor. The trees creaked and groaned as they were ripped out of the ground one by one by the queen on a hunt. Flames spilled from Grim’s mouth as he followed at their heels, painting the world behind them in flames in hopes of slowing it. People cried out as they were found. First in surprise, then terror, then anguish and then pain and then –.
Their little group of four stumbled through the mirror.
It was as if they had stepped into another world.
The ripping, tearing sounds they had been listening to for the better part of an hour came to a halt all at once. No one was running, no one was screaming. Their peers sent their group strange looks, all hopelessly unaware of the monster that was now in their midst.
For just a moment, their group of four lingered there, a heap of teens, breathing heavy in a way that was either just regular overexertion or the beginnings of a panic attack. So shaken by the sudden change they almost forgot what was going on in the sheer strangeness of it all.
“You guys look like you’ve seen a ghost,” a Savanaclaw second-year student commented, teasing.
“No,” Ace said, his laugh bordering on manic as it spilled from his lips. “Those are in Ramshackle, not Heartslabyul, idiot!”
Yuko wanted to join him. Laughing seemed like much more fun than whatever it was she was doing, planning and trying to figure out a way to defeat a monster that was so much more powerful than she could even dream to be.
Then she glanced back, at the mirror.
Cater held his hands up, yelling something that was inaudible to those not in the Heartslabyul pocket dimension, winking at something they couldn’t see.
A tree speared him through the chest. He choked on his usual smile. He coughed, blood speckling the untainted trunk in front of him.
The clone dissolved into nothing.
A distraction, perhaps, so people could run to find safer places to hide for the moment.
She had the sinking feeling that the plan was actually to lead the Overblot to the mirror. That he wanted to use the rest of the school as bait, just so he could live.
She turned to the innocent bystanders.
“Rosehearts-senpai has Overblotted,” she said, her voice surprisingly calm despite the way her heart thudded in her chest in time to the deceptively cheery kids song that was Painting the roses red.“He is coming. Believe me. Or don't, I couldn't care less. But we all need to run.”
It wasn’t hard to believe her.
The Overblot approached the place where the clone had fallen, the ink sloshing over the top of its jar with every lumbering step, painting the cobbled stone path black. It knelt to scoop up the tree, gently cradling it in its fingers for a moment. Blood rubbed off on its white gloves.
Dully, Yuko thought that, at least, Riddle’s ghost could at least be glad that those damn roses were finally red.
It turned to look at them them. Without a Riddle hanging on the front, screaming and crying, it was strangely eerie, to look at a faceless being, and yet know that its eyes are locked solely on you.
With intent.
It hefted the tree in its hand, preparing to throw it.
They didn’t wait to see whether or not the tree would be able to make it through the mirror.
Shoes skidded on tile as they took off running again.
People scrambled in every direction. Towards the safety of their own dorms. Trying to find a way out. A place to hide. Anything that might save them. The more they spread out, the more of them that would survive. They knew this all intrinsically.
They also knew that those who got caught would die alone.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Ace said, leading their group through the halls with ease. Despite how little time they had spent at the school so far, he knew the layout like the back of his hand. “We need to get out of here.”
“Come up with that plan on your own?” Deuce snarked.
“I’m fucking sorry do you have a better one?”
Yuko groaned. “Not the time, guys.”
They grumbled and fell silent, instead focusing on getting out the doors.
Crowds of people, heading about their days like normal, seemed confused by the group of teens that were set on getting out of the building without paying any mind to the people they might end up trampling along the way. Maybe they thought they were running from Riddle’s punishments. They wouldn’t be entirely wrong, if that was what they were guessing, but they didn’t know the full extent of things.
She should tell them the full extent.
Ace met her eyes and, briefly, in a motion so small it was almost lost in the steady bounce of pounding footsteps, shook his head.
Her voice died in her throat.
They both knew that the more people the Overblot encountered, the more it would be distracted from chasing them. That the more people they warned, the harder it would be to push through crowds, to stick together, to get away and be sure that everyone else had escaped, too.
They stepped out onto the grounds without uttering a word of warning.
Mud squished beneath their feet as they ran. It had rained earlier that morning, but now the sky was sunny. Deceptively, it was a nice day out. It felt wrong.
It was hot. The sun beat down on them relentlessly.
They were out in the open.
Others rushed into the woods, hoping to find comfort and safety with the trees as cover, but they had forgotten the dangerous wildlife and poisonous and venomous plants that would prove to be just as fatal as the Overblot. No, they had to leave, that was the only chance they had of making it out of this alive.
It would just require them running across an open field in broad daylight. It wasn’t a short sprint, either.
In the back of their minds, they knew that their school was on an island, so they probably wouldn’t be able to get away in the long run even if they did, by some stroke of luck, make it off campus. But they didn’t care. They just wanted more time.
Time they didn’t seem to have.
“AaaaAaaaCe TrrrRaaaappolA!” the creature roared from somewhere within the castle. Blot spilled from a tower window, which was helpful for trying to figure out where it had gone, but unsettling in that it was heading up the Astronomy tower, a place with an open roof and a view of the entire campus grounds. It was getting the high ground, trying to spot them. Even when lost to the blot, nothing that was formed from Riddle Rosehearts could be entirely stupid.
They were going to be found.
Ace turned a few shades more pale.
“What do you guys think are the chances we all misheard that?” he tried.
“Nonexistent,” said Grim.
Ace gave another laugh. It was bitter, unsettling, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. It was at this very moment that she remembered that the Queen of Roses was said to be a tyrant, yes, but that her subjects were also said to be mad.
She grabbed his hand, pulling him to a stop, and he looked at her with wide, imploring eyes.
Their friends slowed as well, though they looked no happier.
“We can’t, we can’t stop,” Grim said. As a fire monster, he couldn’t cry, but it sounded like he was getting as close to it as was possible for him.
She ignored him. She knelt and grabbed two handfuls of mud, and then dumped them over Ace’s head.
He shrieked, indignant and disgusted as brown ran down the back of his neck, seeping under his collar. “Wh – what are you –?”
“Hair’s recognizable. Need to cover it.”
His eyes widened and he practically dove into the ground, rolling in the mud. Dirtying his hair and collar. If there was one thing she could respect about the boy, it was that he was surprisingly quick on the uptake, when he wanted to be.
Next, she shoved brown into Deuce’s hands.
“Do you even know what mud is –?” he started to ask.
“No, and I couldn’t care less.”
He grimaced, but started combing his fingers through his hair to dye it.
She briefly pressed her hands to the back of her own neck, allowing the excess, cool mud to bring her down before she could overheat.
That dealt with, she knelt beside Grim, who was shaking like a leaf despite the heat and exhaustion. Carefully, she ran her fingers through his fur. He complained about the mud, but ultimately leaned into her touch regardless.
She pressed a kiss to the top of her familiar’s head.
He leapt into her arms, and she shouldn’t have had enough strength to carry him, and yet she did. The monster looped his arms around her neck, hugging her close, and he half-sobbed into her shoulder.
“We’ll make it out of this,” she promised. “And we’ll tell everyone that you, the Great Lord Grim defeated the nasty Overblot, and you’ll be the greatest mage in the world at age, like, one and a half.”
Grim, for once, didn’t take the opportunity to spout off about his greatness.
He trembled in her arms.
She thought he was falling apart at the seams.
She thought she felt the same.
But she didn’t have time for any of that. She was the smart one, the one who had figured out what to do at the mines, and she would figure out what to do here, too. Her parents had named her Yuko – helpful child – and she was going to help her friends get out of this damned school. And then she was going to figure out how to make a portal back to her own world, and drag these three idiots along with her so they wouldn’t have to experience anything as dangerous as this ever again.
It was what they deserved.
(It was a pipe dream and she knew it.)
Only once they got what they deserved would she allow herself to finally break down.
For now, she had problems to solve.
Eventually, finally, the pair of mages she called her friends were entirely average-looking, unrecognizable.
Just in time, too, because the Overblot finally reached the top of the Astronomy tower. It stood upon the precipice, leaning over, spilling black down the sides.
Yuko covered Grim with her school uniform jacket, hiding his flaming ears and electric blue eyes from view.
The Overblot peered over the grounds. For a moment, its gaze landed on them.
It continued on.
It didn’t find what it was looking for.
It screamed, frustrated, and leapt directly from the tower. The ground, already unsteady and muddy beneath their feet, shook.
It paid their shouts of surprise (and horror as it sunk in just how large the thing was) no mind. Instead, it turned and ran into the forest, bowling over trees as it went.
For just a moment, none of them even dared to breathe.
They looked at each other, wondering if they had all imagined it. Whether the stress had broken their minds already.
Surely, they couldn’t actually be escaping.
Deuce grinned widely, too widely, it didn’t fit his face at all.
He grabbed her by the shoulder and jerked her to her feet, pulling her back into a run. Grim curled tighter in her arms, trying to make himself more aerodynamic since they were not risking stopping even if just for a few seconds so she could put him down. Ace followed after them, hot on their heels.
The gates came into view.
A breathless laugh escaped her. She almost couldn’t believe it.
She shouldn’t have.
They couldn’t even get within three meters of the gates.
A forcefield no one had ever noticed before – no one had ever been this desperate to leave before – glimmered purple as they bounced off of it, the four of them tumbling back into the grass.
It was deathly silent.
They were… stuck.
In here.
With the monster that was actively calling for one of their heads.
They rushed forward, fists pounding against the forcefield, desperate wails spilling from their throats, begging that somehow someone would pass by and hear and be able to help.
No one came.
Yuko sunk to her knees.
“We’re doomed,” she breathed.
“No. Nonono! Yuko, don’t say that! You have to have a plan!” Deuce almost begged. “You always have a plan.”
She stared at the wrought iron in front of her. At the trees they could see through the bars, at the safety that was so close and yet so far.
“I – I don’t know.”
#twisted wonderland#fanfic#twst#listen. idk if horror is popular in this fandom. if you want more you gotta tell me#also i totally didnt forget to post on tumblr hahahaha shut up#ace trappola#deuce spade#cater diamond#riddle rosehearts#heartslabyul#twst yuu#grim twst#name comes from that one fnaf song#its a vibe listen to it
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Who is in the forget-me-nots?
FORGET-ME-NOT ROLL CALL!
First member is Bluestar of ThunderClan herself! Her friends are there for her as the makes the hardest descisions of her life. War and ambition drives a wedge between them, but they share a bond that lasts long beyond themselves.
(Also I'm just gonna make her old name Bluemoon because it is thematically appropriate tbh. She's got a wolf motif. There's no such thing as a lone wolf, she loves and was loved!)
Then there's Hoprunner and Ashfoot of WindClan, couple friends.
Ashfoot is a wise, methodical cat with a penchant for laying out all your options and considering the future.
Hoprunner is an ambitious, talented hunter with his eyes on deputyship. To do that, he also needs to also become a fearsome fighter. He likes to push the boundaries and take risks. Later, he earns the honor title Deadfoot, after inventing a battle move including using his foot gauntlet called "deadfooting."
(He has a brace to help with wrist pain which eventually evolves into a war gauntlet. It is unofficially called The Bonker)
Then there's Oakheart of RiverClan!
Oakheart is uplifting and optimistic. He has a great way of calming you down and making the group work together as a unit. He's a simple and honest cat, the heart of the Forget-me-Nots.
He names the group and suggests the flowers that come to define them. A plant that grows in all four territories.
Next up is Lizardstripe of ShadowClan!
Sarcastic and cynical, she needs the love of her friends in her wild youth, something to get her through. She says truths her kind friends would prefer not to voice, and creates plots and schemes to help them through.
She is changed significantly from her canon role! Later, Lizardstripe is the cat who acts as Bluestar's StarClan defense attorney, hatching a plan to get her best friend into heaven and reveal the Thistle Law cats for the venomous snakes they really are.
And last but certainly not least is Mr. Barley Senior himself, of none other than BloodClan!
He always seems to know exactly what's wrong, and how to preempt problems before they appear. More realistic than Oakheart but less fatalistic than Lizardstripe, he always hops in with a quip at just the right moment.
It's Barley who usually organizes these meetings. He's a great host and knows exactly how to hide them so they won't be caught. He's got a sort of mysterious air about him, like there's a lot more going on in his head than he lets on.
He is a BloodClan Solver, a role about figuring out problems. He does not wear the collar of a BloodClan Problem, the soldier role.
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Chapter 6 - Black Knight
AO3 Link
Fandom: Ensemble Stars
Series: Alte Liebe Rostet Nicht
Characters:Ritsu Sakuma, Anja-Sophia 'Ann' Wolff (OC), Izumi Sena (mentioned), Nyeli (OC by @watersofcamelot) (mentioned)
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Some things are more shocking than others. Apparently a picture Nyeli had drawn was one of them yet Ann did not get the fuss surrounding it. They had this conversation with Ritsu several times before and they would not back down from this at any given moment. In their mind the answer was as clear as day, the most obvious answer one could come across. No one had to be a genius to figure this out. A blind person could tell! It wasn’t that hard! So they really didn’t understand why Ritsu insisted on bringing this up time and time again! It was a little nerve wracking. Besides, having to even think about that guy when they didn’t have to… It was frustrating, to say the least. If it were up to them they would not waste a thought on him if they could help it, if he wasn’t present. But alas, that's not how things worked apparently. Because now something was up with Nyeli and Ritsu brought it up time and time again, wasting more energy on an Arschloch than they liked. This was getting repetitive. But at least the conversations were cut short… That was until this day, that one day which would force them to think… Even if they didn’t really want to do so…
Honestly, the sight at first confused them… That Nyeli was capable of doing something like this, let alone would waste his hobby and time drawing this of all things. While the drawing brimmed with child–like naivety one could easily make out what this ‘random scribbling’ supposed to be. A man in black armor, surrounded by darkness all around. A heavy sword in one of his hands, his expression grim yet pained all the same. He seemed cold, though at the same time seemed to clutch onto dear life, trying so hard to not fall into the brink of insanity. The colors were all a mere black or gray, even his hair. This made his blue eyes stand out even more however, the only amount of color found in this image. Everything else was a dark mess, to say the least. The image of a ‘black knight’, or so one could suggest from Nyeli’s drawing. And while it might seem random to some it was way too obvious who this was supposed to be – Izumi Sena himself. But the question was… Why?
Now, it was not unusual for Nyeli to draw those he considered family in a different setting, in different scenarios. He usually picked his favorite, the time of maidens and knights, inspired by medieval Europe, like the ones he had been exposed to when Ann had still considered themselves to be a ‘young girl’. Both would just browse through the picture books to no end, usually to Nyeli’s amusement and he would not let go of it ever since. So him drawing those close to was not odd: Four of the Knights portrayed as actual knights: The Papa as the ‘brave and fearless one’, Arashi being the ‘lady knight’, Leo being a ‘knightly king’ and Tsukasa being the youngest of said knights, the aspiring rookie. He even had included his current art teacher at a point as a medieval artist yet mentor figure to the tiny knight in question, Nyeli himself. His Sisnya was the Princess who needed saving from the ‘evil fearsome dragon’, portrayed by the pet cat of the Wolffs. They were featured in several images, even one which showed them all.
However, what they saw was something they had not seen before, ever, and Nyeli had not presented this drawing to anyone it seems. Otherwise Ritsu would have not stormed in and not had the urgency to present it to them. In fact, Ann couldn’t believe it even after seeing it… Nyeli had bothered to draw an image of Izumi in this setting. Sure, it was only one, but one is not none. This would shift the perspective drastically, to say the least, and left Ann in some type of disbelief. It was just so sudden… Very sudden, it hit them like a truck. Literally. This image existed. It was real, and it had been right in their view.
Ritsu was glaring at them as a result, a little narrowed, which was a bit unusual perhaps. They were used to his soft expressions from beginning to end. Never had they seen such a sharp glare from him which meant that he means business. No talking out of this now, this was proof. ‘Told you so’, that was what his face had been saying at that very moment. Yeah, he did. He brought up his gut feeling and it seemed that he had the evidence now.
When did he find this? While cleaning up, Nyeli has scattered his papers all over before leaving to ‘who knows where’ for some time, probably to explore. And from the report he had also been in massive disbelief when seeing this. This drawing was the least colorful of all. Even the ‘epic battles between the knights, the hero and the dragon’ were so colorful, right to the brim. One could feel the joy coming from them, how much the kitty must have loved drawing them, seeing his family at such a place… But when it comes to this drawing, it was anything but. It existed in isolation, one portrayal. Nothing more. And it was darker than the rest. It lacked the usual energy the others had which was almost terrifying. Yet even then, it had been drawn… So that means some twisted fate… Somehow, much to Ann’s own dismay…
“Nyeli doesn’t hate him?” Was their first reaction with wide eyes. But why? Why!? That A rsch was not kind to Nyeli at all! Why would this drawing exist!? There were plenty of reasons to hate this guy! This made no sense in their head! What was the meaning of this!?
“Well, not yet.” Ritsu responded, in an oddly calm voice. It was how he usually talked however, so it may have been just that. “I think we both are more than aware.”
A black knight thought… One at the brink of insanity though… The portrayal was not very flattering. Truth to be told, they had to think about this closely. Though they did not wish to do so. They wanted to say the same thing. ‘ Verdient ’, basically saying Izumi deserved it. This was their reaction and they wished they could have kept it at that. But the male in front of them didn’t make it easy, far from it. He practically shoved it right into their face, as if saying ‘You know what this means! You work with symbolisms everyday! You can read between the lines!’
Why would they know though? Hah, because they love writing. Symbolism and imagery were two basics to master. So yes, they were familiar with this. And even then, they didn’t need those qualities to understand the basic message delivered: There was no hatred, at least not yet. Instead this image of Nyeli was anything but filled with malicious intentions. It was… Odd… Perhaps sad to look at? Ugh, just the thought of feeling anything but hate for this guy twisted their stomach. They didn’t understand. They just didn’t. Were they that blinded by their rage? Perhaps. But could one blame them? This guy wasn’t exactly trying to hide his criticisms, his complaints, ever since the day the two met… There was an immense amount of tension between them. No one could change that. They tried to keep an open mind but it was literally impossible.
Ah this was just a record talking in their mind… Their opinion of him would never change! They were almost certain of it! And Nyeli should have been on the same page… But… Judging from this… Agh, too much of a headache to be honest!
So with all of this in mind they nodded after some time, things having been an utter mess in Ann’s mind. They… Had to give in, to say the least. But that didn’t make things any less confusing. Izumi the Black Knight… Not ‘Izumi The Maniac’...
A conclusion on that day… There was none, even after Ritsu’s endless scolding. After all, no one could answer their confusion on this day… Not at that moment at least.
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#Nimue's Lake#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#ensemble stars#enstars#ensemble stars fanfiction#ensemble stars fanfic#ensemble stars fic#enstars fanfiction#enstars fanfic#enstars fic#self ship fanfiction#enstars yume#enstars self ship#self ship fanfic#self ship fic#selfship fanfiction#selfship fanfic#selfship fic#izumi sena#sena izumi#enstars izumi#izuann#selfship community#Ironic Blue#Izuann
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Here is my version of Dumah/Azrael!
Dumevoziah is a hybrid between a chalkydri and a destroying angel that shows an uncompromising resolve and cold-hearted aloofness to almost everyone around him. He’s able to endure pain and personal hardships without showing his true emotions and complaining. He’s strict in his conformity with what’s morally upright, and has a good reputation due to his honest and fair actions that are worthy of respect. He possesses an unforgiving nature towards sinful people and shows a strong desire to seek revenge for those who have been unjustly wronged. Despite his uncaring and fearsome nature, he’s capable of sympathy and providing generous assistance to those who need help. He likes to safely guide souls to their respective afterlifes and provide solace towards those suffering from the loss of a loved one. He’s disturbingly fierce towards those who don't feel remorse for their wrongdoings, going as far to heavily mutilate them and forcibly take their souls to Nifjazroghetus. Whenever he receives physical affection and verbal praise, it sexually turns him on for some reason he doesn’t understand and begins to act all flirty and adorable. Dumevoziah has a strategic and life-appreciating mindset, and is sardonic, extremely patient, and surprisingly chill.
Dumevoziah’s height is close to 8’ 2” (248.92 cm) and he has a mesomorphic body type with a trapezoidal figure, a semi-gaunt torso, an average musculature, and broad shoulders. He has ashen skin with chapped lips, black claws and talons that are partially rounded, and sickly bluish and purplish blushing on his joints. He has twelve red kite wings, a lion’s tail, and two heads; that of an ethereal human male (right) and a smooth-fronted caiman (left). His human head has long shimmering creamy white hair with messy waves and clementine eyes with Persian green pupils, flecks of metallic blue, and purplish-black sclera. He dons a dragging, slightly tattered, long-sleeved cloak of dark purple feathers with a dull yellow-orange sheen. He wears a cuirass of white porcelain with fancy lavender foliage patterning, silver edging, and raven feathers protruding from underneath the bottom and arm holes. He wears a medium-sleeved metallic orange tunic that has blood stains and a mid-calf sirwal of royal blue cotton. He also has a partially moth-eaten waistband of green gold velvet and a pair of slip-on, cork-soled wolfskin shoes. He’s armed with a 12 ft (365.76 cm) fiery rod covered in a thousand pitch black eyes and it has a jagged scythe blade of pure tungsten. Dumevoziah carries an old papyrus scroll concerning the fate of mortals, recording and erasing their names at birth and death.
People have described his true form as being so terrifyingly awful that a mere sight of it can cause instant madness and swift, anguishing death to humans, Ufrajozlens, low-ranking demons, and weaker monsters. Those who caught a glimpse of his form and weren’t driven mad say that he’s shrouded in misty darkness. He’s a blue-coloured ram with an immense size and four charcoal-skinned humanoid faces that are unmoving and cold. He also has four thousand red kite wings, twisted coppery horns, and eyes and tongues for every mortal alive in the multiverse.
He can manipulate the essence of death, the souls of the newly deceased, silence, the threads of fate, vindication, and retribution. He can give the righteous a swift and painless death to ease their mortal suffering, while giving sinners an agonising and slow death. He has absolute knowledge over life and death, astral dream-walking, psychokinesis, necropresence, and transcendent mastery over swordsmanship. Dumevoziah can transport souls to their respective afterlifes through portals of cleansing fire and trails of golden or withered wheat. He possesses omnilegence over the names and fates of mortal beings, and supernatural durability, endurance, intelligence, strength, stamina, and senses. He can transform into a being of living rainbow energy and aid in running the Sun’s course around the Earth to bring heat and dew.
FAMILY:
Unknown
ALIASES/NICKNAMES:
Dumah
Azrael
Angel of Stillness and Vindication
King of Atrocious Skulls
FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION:
He’s heteroromantic
As an Æylphitus, his name means “silence”.
He’s the avatar of a vengeful death god
Tens of thousands of destroyers serve under him
Through the use of his unique vision, he can easily identify who’s either righteous (circled in soft light) or sinful (circled in harsh darkness).
He has a loud, solemn, and terrible voice
He secretly finds grief and physical pain to be unnerving
He often hangs out underneath an ash tree that has leaves bearing the names of each mortal or on a razor-sharp bridge of rose gold and silver located in Saturn of The Contemplatives.
He likes to make simple clay people and animals during his free time
He finds a lot of comfort and amusement when hanging out with Usraphoniel, Uyrenolahi, and Gubaszoriel. However, he’s terrified to be around Mikhazorsvel because of his extreme aggression and clinginess to Gubaszoriel.
His favourite flowers are geranium, goldenrod, heather, honeysuckle, hyssop, thistle, and lady’s slipper orchid.
#writerscorner#creative writing#writing#original character#personality#physical appearance#outfit#abilities#power#angel#chalkydri#destroying angel#destroyer#vindication#death#stillness#dumah#azrael#fun facts#extra information
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you mentioned two more opla ocs on the discord, now im putting u on the spot! i wanna hear about em!! or whatever details/ideas you have currently ✨🩵 — @xoteajays
Ahhh, thank you so much for asking about my newest pirate show babies, TJ!! I definitely don’t mind being put on the spot if it’s for them <3. And I’m also gonna tag the One Piece gang @auxiliarydetective, @oneirataxia-girl, @starcrossedjedis, @supermarine-silvally, and @endless-oc-creations!!
Now, first we have Morvant Bellatrix! She’s a former assassin, basically born and raised to kill (she was orphaned as a baby and the people who took her in were Not Great), and while she was doing this work she was one of the most feared people in the East Blue. This was mostly because of her incredible fighting skills and talent with almost every weapon you could think of, but it was also because she’d eaten a Devil Fruit as a child (the exact name of which is still pending) that granted her the ability to inflict pain on someone just by singing a specific song. Think a very twisted version of Rapunzel’s healing song from Tangled, that’s basically what she can do. Eventually, though, she got tired of killing all the time and decided to do the only thing she could think of to get out of it: she went back and killed the couple who had raised her (turns out they’d trained her a little too well) and eventually went on to become the captain of the Fatale Pirates, an all-female crew of fearsome pirates who sail on the ship Belladonna.
Bellatrix first meets the Straw Hats at Baratie, where her crew just happens to stop for some food at the same time they do, and takes an instant liking to all of them (even if she does persist in calling Zoro Green Bean after he sasses her). She makes a silent promise to protect them, and after their whole fight with Arlong and the other fishmen when Luffy finally gets a bounty placed on him, she does her best to use her terrifying reputation (which even if she isn’t an assassin anymore she still has due to her Devil Fruit power and penchant for ruthlessness in battles with other pirates) to keep bounty hunters and other, crueler pirates off the Straw Hats’ tails. It doesn’t always work, because you can’t ever fully control pirates, but she does her best because damn it, those are her children (that she’s adopted only in her head after exactly five minutes of knowing them).
She’s also a Mihawk ship! The two of them have known each other since Bellatrix’s assassin days, and Mihawk has even been asked by Garp to “neutralize” Bellatrix a time or two (which he’s never done and would never even try to do, because he both respects her too much and is just a tiny bit afraid of her). The two of them have never really officially gotten together or even put a label on their relationship, but they’ve spent a lot of nights together and you don’t have to know very much about either Mihawk or Bellatrix to know that they both have a weakness for the other. (Although if anyone ever tries to hurt Bellatrix in an attempt to get to Mihawk, they will find out just how dangerous she can be on her own.)
And then we have Yami Corvo, my Shanks ship! Like Bellatrix, they also have assassin experience, but they’re currently participating in the art of killing, and one of the most feared killers in all four Blues. They’re also a Devil Fruit eater, and their power includes being able to manipulate their own blood and be able to solidify it into weapons (I’m pretty sure you mentioned you’ve seen Gen V, TJ, so just basically imagine Marie’s powers). Unlike Bellatrix, they were raised as an assassin or fed their Devil Fruit, they ate theirs by accident, but the powers it gave them made them such an outcast and lead even their own parents to believe they were a monster, so eventually they just decided that they might as well give in to what they saw as their “true nature” at that point, running away from their small village and seeking out various other assassins to teach them how to kill, and honing their powers so that it would be even easier for them.
And unlike a lot of other assassins, who might refuse to kill older people or poor people, Corvo has no such moral code; if you can pay the price they charge, they’ll go after anyone you want them too. Killing isn’t even really something they enjoy, but again, they see it as just being what they’re supposed to be, what those around them when they were a child always told them they were: a rabid dog, a monster to be unleashed. At some point, they just stop caring, growing completely numb and almost wishing that one of their targets would fight back and kill them so they could stop… which is probably why they accept money from an angry former pirate captain whose ship was destroyed by Mihawk to kill the dangerous War Lord.
They completely fail, of course, because there’s almost no one who can beat Mihawk in a fight no matter what kind of cool powers you have - but Mihawk, seeing an opportunity to have someone incredibly dangerous and powerful on his side, spares Corvo’s life and offers to bring them along with him on his travels. Originally Corvo is furious that Mihawk didn’t just kill them, but despite how awfully they think of themself they’re still absolutely desperate for companionship and anything at all like a friend, so they accept his offer and the two of them set off together, carrying out Mihawk’s little escapades and occasionally doing the bidding of the Marines - which is how Corvo finally meets Shanks, when Mihawk shows up to show him Luffy’s new wanted poster.
Honestly, they and Shanks are such an amazing and sweet couple; Shanks becomes interested in Corvo roughly five seconds after meeting them, and after realizing how terrible their self-esteem is and how much of a monster they think they are makes it his mission to get to know them and help them see that they really aren’t as bad as they believe themself to be. It takes them a good while to actually get together, because Corvo has to find who they actually are outside of killing and their Devil Fruit power and realize that they aren’t going to wind up killing anyone they dare to care about (and because Mihawk has actually become kind of a protective bestie over them and gives Shank several very intense shovel talks), but they’re amazing once they actually do get together and Luffy pretty much immediately sees Corvo as a stepparent when he and Shanks finally see each other again.
Anyways, thanks again for asking about my new babies!! Hope you’re doing well, love. <3 <3
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MONSTER MONTHLY: MARCH
Monster Monthly is where, for each chapter of release, information about a creature and or monster shall be revealed and talked about. As Well as what they represent within the story. This will be featured by Demon, F-24. For this issue, today we’ll be talking about the fearsome and dreaded Fire Demon Bloodhound!
Fire Demon Bloodhounds have existed since the age of gods and the creation of men. Bloodhounds, in a sense, are guard dogs and herders. Bloodhounds herd and chase the humans that have forsaken the gods and sent them to hell for eternity. Humans that attempt to escape Hell, Tartarus, and or the Underworld, have bloodhounds sent after them and dragged back for even further punishment.
Fire Demon Bloodhounds were all once human and turned into a hound for punishment and suffering. Forever stuck within the shape of an enormous wolf-like animal. Unlike the other monsters and creatures, they do not have the ability to shapeshift, and must instead borrow and change an already-formed human body to fit their needs. Most human bodies last only for a few hours before another body must be found. Due to a bloodhound’s abnormally high temperature, they constantly melt the flesh of the body they borrow and stick to their animal form.
Bloodhounds range from personality to being hot-headed or calm and collected. Though most are sadistic and loyal to their owners. As long as you treat them right, they are sure to listen.
Demon hounds act as wolves do, they operate in packs. Though there is no pack hierarchy, there are no alphas nor omegas. There are levels of respect, which are defined by the color of a bloodhound’s flames.
White & Black~ Highest Colors one can produce in flames
Blue ~ 2nd Highest
Red, Orange, & Yellow ~ 3rd Highest
Green, Pink, & Purple ~ Avg Flame Color
Grey ~ Weak Flame Color/Underdeveloped Flames
The higher the flame color and intensity, the more respect a bloodhound gains. Now let’s talk about owning BloodHound Tips!
DIET:
When owning and having a bloodhound, one must always remember they are carnivorous hunters. They eat meat only, fresh raw meat is always best. Due to their high heat, the meat is cooked within their stomachs and makes digestion easier.
EXERCISE:
Daily walks and chases. They are canines and require a lot of exercise to keep their body temperature low. The more stressed, hungry, and annoyed a bloodhound is, the hotter the surrounding temperatures become and could cause an uncontrollable fire. Until the hound gets what it needs.
BUILD:
Bloodhounds in natural form are quite big. Ranging from 6ft tall on all fours and with a length of 6ft. They take up a lot of space and are the size of most large cars and require a big space. If you don’t have space for a large wolf in your home, then the next option is to get a human body. Yes, it can be inhumane, but the fresher the body, the better. Allow your bloodhound to pick and mold to their liking. After a few minutes, their new body is ready. Make sure that there are no others around, for humans, it can be quite painful.
AND FACTS WITH OUR GUEST
Fact One:
F-24: Feline Type Monsters/Creatures are Bloodhounds’ mortal enemies. Some say it has to do with the ties both bloodhounds have with Tartarus and the god, Hades. Bloodhounds are also believed to have to share the blood of the Guard Dog Cerberus. While felines align with punishing evil and demons and come from the Egyptian Mythos. Bloodhounds are inherently evil. Felines are inherently good.
Fact Two:
F-24: The ability to take another human's body was seen as a gift and curse. That even though bloodhounds broke divine rules, they could still experience life. Though since earliest times, bloodhounds have used this ability to lure and trap humans. To grow their population since the age of gods has fallen.
WELP! That is all for the Monster Monthly Issue! Make sure to sign on for Next Month as we discuss Angel Harpies!
ISSUED BY H.E.A.V.E.N FACILITY, DISTRICT 48
#t.manor.basement.monster.monthly#horror interactive fic#interactive fic#interactive fiction#interactive fiction demos#interactive fiction twine#itchio games#itchio interactive fic#twine games#twine interactive fiction#oc stuff#wolf oc#dire wolf#dating sim characters#dating sim
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My cousin recently came by the house with the ‘72 GMC pickup truck that he’d found at a storage yard auction. Turns out the previous owner put it there, presumably intending to get around to finishing it, and then stopped paying the bills for whatever reason. Over the years, the indebted truck began to sublet its space to a group of rodents, and then eventually the yard owner decided he would rather be renting that space to someone who could pay.
The hammer decided that my cousin would get it for five hundred smackaroos (an audaciously large number; he works in technology) and then, after a couple bug bombs in the interior, he drove it home. Everything was decrepit and poorly-maintained, with a variety of parts-store wiring hijinks on full display inside the cabin. One valve cover – and only one – had been replaced with some gaudy chrome bullshit, which wasn’t even bolted down properly and was seeping oil. There was no way any reasonable mechanic would rate the vaguely banana-shaped frame, which gave the truck a depressing lopsided angle to the cab, as “extant,” let alone street-legal. I was in love.
Of course, he wouldn’t let me have it that easily. In my family, we were raised to do things the hard way, and that didn’t include cutting deals for slack-assed cousins who already have a shitload of unfinished, non-running Mopars stuffing their yard and neighbourhood and never call Grandma Switch to talk about spaghetti sauce anymore. We decided that we would instead call upon our other family tradition, the Christmas Day heads-up, no-prep drag race for pinks.
I hustled out whatever I could get to run. This time, my fearsome steed was a ‘70 Scamp with half of its grille missing, and the other half hole-sawed to make room for a 63-millimeter ball-bearing turbocharger that probably used to live on a Komatsu heavy excavator. Somewhere inside the engine bay was the world’s angriest four-cylinder engine, whose make and model I could no longer remember after having driven over the shattered crankshaft of so many on my way to a thirteen-second quarter mile and subsequent ejection from the venue because I couldn’t bother to even put in a chintzy bolt-in roll cage.
You might think that a stock ‘72 GMC pickup (horsepower: not much) does not have a snowball’s chance in Hell against the screaming ferocity of Chryco’s finest feature-lightened sedan for the impoverished. And you’d be right, especially after I had a friend slink over to his truck in the parking lot and cut two of the spark plug wires. Sure, my cousin’d blame the packrats in the yard, and maybe even his own lack of attention to the vehicle’s integrity, but ultimately the truck would stay within the family, ensconced within a protective radius of broken cars in my back forty. I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing, betraying a family member for a small monetary gain and all.
Friends: hubris has its cost. You might remember earlier that I mentioned this took place on Christmas Day. Well, it turns out that when you spin a little bit on ice, and rev the whatever-it-is engine to the moon as a result, all that spicy air from the turbocharger really wants to escape out the oilpan. On the plus side, the momentum from the horsepower generated up until that explosion, and the reduced friction from my 17-year-old all-seasons drinking up the oil cascading from the shattered wreckage of the engine, carried me at least an eighth of a mile to victory. At least until the violently misfiring truck passed me at a snail’s pace, slowly plodding its way to the end of the block.
My cousin even gave me a ride home after, which he went to special pains to point out was actually my gift for this year. Nothing like family.
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